For the first time in my life, I truly experienced God’s love—not just as an idea, but as a reality that carried me through something devastating. I came to understand the Gospel in a deeper, more personal way: that beauty really can come from ashes, and that God’s presence doesn’t always show up as rescue, but as provision, peace, and people.

When everything stable was stripped away—especially my financial security, which I unknowingly leaned on for comfort—I had no choice but to trust Him. And He provided… to the absolute penny. Every need was met.

I also watched my friends and family step up in ways I’ll never forget. Their love showed me God’s heart all over again.

I think I’m a better mom now. A more grounded person. I see others differently, especially women walking through abusive relationships. I no longer ask, “Why doesn’t she leave?” because now I understand. And from that understanding, I’ve gained a deeper compassion for people in general.

I’m still growing. Still healing. Still learning.

But for the first time, what I believe had to hold up when it mattered most,

and it did.

This season of life was so heavy for my son and I, we would often lay in bed and just pray through our thoughts and feelings. BUT you know what? My son on his own, in my SUV confessed with his own lips, in his own way, in his own time that He believes in Jesus. So, if nothing else from this season comes out, this is enough.