Morning, ladies, We have had so many wonderful days of clouds and even some rain. And with the leaks on Anchored In Hope being so little, we are finally at a place where we can say—let winter come and the rain begin. There is something beautiful about being able to welcome a season, knowing you are prepared for it.
I feel like I just picked my head up, and suddenly, the first three months of 2025 have flown by. And with that realization comes a quiet commitment in my heart—this year, I have to slow down. I want to breathe in the beauty of the days God has given me, to enjoy the changing weather, and to truly live in the moments He has so graciously placed before me.
In the midst of everything, I’ve been doing some deep work—walking with a few women who are just beginning their journey of healing. One day, when they are ready, I pray that they will have the courage to share their own stories. But what this journey has stirred in me is a powerful reminder of where I once was and how far God has brought me.
It is humbling to look back at the depth of pain I once carried and to realize how completely God has healed me. The weight of what once crushed me is gone. The things that felt impossible to release no longer have a hold on me. But I also know that healing is not just for me. What God has done in my life, He wants to do for others. And sometimes, He allows our past wounds to become the very catalyst that helps another woman find her way to freedom.
This season has reminded me that pain may mark us, but it does not define us. And when we surrender it to God, it can become a testimony that leads others to healing.
I have known the pain of brokenness. I have felt the weight of wounds too deep for words, the kind that make you question if you will ever be whole again. But I also know the healing power of Jesus. I know what it is to be set free, to no longer live as a captive to my past. My healing came years ago, but I have learned that freedom is not just for me—it is meant to be given away.
“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” —Psalm 34:18
I remember what it was like in the beginning. The battle between wanting healing and clinging to pain because pain was all I knew. The temptation to fall back into familiar suffering instead of stepping into the unknown of restoration. Choosing healing is one of the hardest battles we will ever fight. Not because we don’t want it, but because it requires us to lay down what has defined us for so long.
“Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” —Isaiah 43:19
I have heard their cries—the questions that once echoed in my own heart from so many others walking in the same pain:
“Where was God?”
“Why did He allow this?”
“Why do I have to be the one to forgive?”
What we sometimes need is to be shown the road to finally becoming free and the only way!!!! Is the path to the Father through Jesus Christ.
Healing is not instant. It is not easy. Sometimes, it takes a hundred miles of uphill mountains and deep oceans of tears before we can finally say, ‘I am ready to forgive.’
Forgiving the one who shattered us.
Forgiving ourselves for the ways we coped.
Forgiving those who should have protected us but didn’t.
And sometimes, even whispering through our pain, God, I don’t understand, but I will trust You anyway.
“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” —Matthew 11:28-30
I have seen so many women begin to rise.
In their pain, in their fear, in the middle of their “what-ifs”—they stood up.
They took the heavy yoke of this world and laid it at Jesus’ feet.
And they put on His yoke—the one that is light, the one that is freedom.
The chains of suffering—broken.
The chains of fear—broken.
The chains of self-loathing—broken.
Healing is possible.
Freedom is real.
And it is worth fighting for.
“So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.” —John 8:36
Ladies, we are not meant to stay in the places that once broke us. Healing is not just a possibility—it is a promise from the Father who loves us beyond measure. I have seen it in my own life, and now I see it unfolding in the lives of the women I walk with.
Maybe today, you are still in the struggle. Maybe you’re taking that first shaky step, wondering if true healing is even possible. Let me tell you—it is.
“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” —Psalm 147:3
God is not just watching from a distance—He is here, in the middle of your pain, ready to lift you out of the darkness. You don’t have to carry the weight alone. The same Jesus who set me free will set you free. The same hands that held me will hold you.
So today, let’s take hold of the promise that we are no longer captives—we are daughters of the King. And in Him, we are whole, we are redeemed, and we are free.
“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a future and a hope.” —Jeremiah 29:11
Let’s step into that hope. Let’s walk in that freedom. And let’s never stop sharing the goodness of the God who saves.
Heavenly Father,
Thank You for being the God who heals, restores, and sets us free. You see every broken place, every wound we have carried, and every tear we have cried. You were there in the moments we thought we would never make it through, and You are here now, calling us into the fullness of Your love.
Lord, I lift up every woman who is still in the battle—who feels stuck in the pain, unsure if healing is truly for her. Remind her that You are near. That You have not abandoned her. That You are reaching for her even now. Give her the courage to take the next step, to cry out to You, and to trust that Your hands are strong enough to carry her through.
Jesus, You have walked this road with us—through valleys we never thought we’d survive, through storms that should have destroyed us. But here we are, still standing. Not because of our strength, but because of Yours. And today, I declare over every woman reading this: the past does not define her, the pain does not own her, and the chains that once held her are breaking in Jesus’ name.
Father, for those of us who have already found healing, let us never forget where You brought us from. May our lives be a testimony that shines Your light into the darkest places, leading others to the same freedom we have found in You. Use us, Lord. Make us vessels of Your grace, Your truth, and Your love.
We surrender our stories to You, knowing that nothing is wasted in Your hands. Let our wounds become a witness to the power of Jesus Christ, our Savior and Redeemer.
In Your mighty and precious name, we pray,
Amen.
