One act of defiance snowballed into a habit I couldn't explain. While the adults around me lectured on "trust" and "choices," I was navigating a world of fear. I remember the cold silence of the courtroom and the desperate promise I made to the judge to "fully participate"—not because I understood the gravity of the law, but because I was terrified of being defined by my mistakes.

Our body really holds the trauma we face even at a cellular level!

This sounds like the beginning of a Netflix documentary you’d immediately turn off. Writing in the third person is the only way I can grasp that this four-year-old—locked in a dark bathroom and scavenging for food—is actually me. Today, I’m stepping back into the 'Desert of Neglect' to honor the little girl who survived, and to find the Grace that was sitting with her in the dark.

My most anxious series yet 👁️👄👁️

I used to envy people who could quote Scripture verbatim. For me, reading the Bible feels like writing on an Etch-a-Sketch—one distraction and the whole thing is wiped clean. I found myself asking God: 'You made this ADHD brain, so why are You getting on to me for how I am?' But then I realized: The soil isn't my identity; it's just my environment. Here is how I’m learning to farm a 'weedy' mind at 3:00 in the morning!