This week started off really hard but ended up being so incredibly fruitful. The first few days were rough, but once again, Jesus showed Himself to be my comfort and my healer.
I lost a relationship that meant a lot to me, and processing that has not been easy. When I came on the Race, I expected change; I was determined to leave these countries more in love with the Lord than when I came. In that mindset, I think I often neglected the pain of letting go of things that were holding me back from the fullness of what God has wanted to do in me.
I’ve been preparing to speak at our next Beauty for Ashes event about identity, and in the process, God has been gently showing me how blind I’ve been to the truths He’s spoken over me. As I wrote out my teaching, I realized how often I’ve placed my identity in things outside of Him: in words spoken over me, in friendships, in relationships. I’ve elevated them, almost idolized them, making them more important than God Himself.
Something He’s been teaching me in this season is that when Jesus died on the cross, He didn’t just die to save us from sin, He died to restore our name. I am no longer called rejected, unloved, or unworthy. I am no longer defined by the state of my relationships. I am called daughter. I am beloved. I am redeemed. I am defined only by the unchanging love and character of my Father. And how humbling it is to realize how I’ve compared the love of humans to the love and glory of the living God.
On Wednesday morning, I sat down for quiet time, undone and broken, and I just asked God for anything. I didn’t care if it was a person walking by, a simple breeze, or a verse; I just wanted to hear Him. Then I thought of Psalm 34 and came across verse 18: “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; He rescues those whose spirits are crushed.”
That verse was one of the first that ever stuck with me when I started following Jesus. I read it before getting baptized, and it’s carried me through so many hard moments in my faith. Reading it again felt like the kindest gesture from God, a small but powerful nudge to look up and to focus on Him.
In that moment, everything shifted. My heartbreak didn’t disappear, but it no longer consumed me. I realized that pain is part of the journey, but it’s not the purpose. I can grieve yet still carry the joy of Jesus. I can mourn yet still walk in His authority. I refuse to let things of this world steal the privilege and joy of serving my God to the fullest.
That truth helped me release bitterness and see through His eyes. How lucky am I to mourn something that was worth saying goodbye to. How merciful of God to give me an experience that could grow me. How beautiful that I get to become someone stronger and more like Jesus because of loss, someone being prepared for a love that looks like Him.
In this same season, He’s been reminding me that I can do absolutely nothing in my own strength. Since Monday, I’ve been sitting in Psalm 73:26: “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”
Doing ministry 24/7 has made it painfully clear that on my own, I’m incapable of much. I can’t love people well. I can’t be endlessly joyful. I can’t keep going on my own energy. Our human capacities are limited and often falter under the weight of life. But even when I reach the end of my own strength, God remains my strength and my portion forever.
That truth has been slowly reshaping me. It reminds me that I can’t rely on my own resources but on the infinite power of God, who sustains me through every circumstance. Embracing God as my portion means daily surrender, seeking His presence and strength in everything. It means finding true contentment in Him alone, recognizing that He is my greatest reward, my truest fulfillment.
When God is my strength, I can move forward with confidence, not because I am capable, but because I am empowered by the One who never fails. Reflecting on all of this has completely transformed how I see my trials. I’m learning to embrace the Lord as my strength, my portion, and my source of joy and I can see the difference in every part of my life.
Thank You, Jesus, for transformation. I am not the same woman I was before training camp, and I have never been more thankful for the way You pursue my whole heart and life.
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