The Unknown Current
When the world feels still enough to listen, have you noticed grace moving through you — not as emotion to feel, but as alignment already happening within?
Living Intentionally For Evolving L.I.F.E.
Wisdom is how you live.
Month October 2025
Changed by the World
I’m not trying to change the world. I’ve just chosen to be completely changed by it.
Grace Doesn’t Need Fillers
We train our children to avoid ah and um, yet fill our own silence with noise.
Maybe grace doesn’t live in the words we speak, but in the space between them—
where sparks enter, and presence begins.
The Scenery of Want and Need
A reflection on how inherited protection becomes conditioning — and how presence restores the balance between prosperity and pain, want and need.
Human Polarity: Privilege or Poverty
Privilege and poverty are not opposites—they’re proof we’ve drifted from union. This reflection traces how ritual, reward, and rhetoric sustain distance, how religion turns doctrine into a ledger, and how the Christ of Proximity restores presence: not gold or gray, but sky returned to breath.
When Logic Reaches Its Limits
Logic builds systems. Trust sustains them.
When logic reaches its limits, it doesn’t collapse — it transforms into trust.
Because the moment you stop needing to understand everything, you start belonging to it.
Thine Own Way
Sometimes the songs we sing badly stay with us the longest. “Have Thine Own Way, Lord” was one of those for me—a melody I once mumbled through, now a prayer that shapes the way I live. What I missed in tune, I’ve learned in time: that grace doesn’t need perfection to be heard. It only asks that we stay soft enough to be shaped.
Turning a New Leaf
Parenthood has a way of changing how you understand love. The strength I once measured by how high I could stand is now measured by how gently I can stay. My children have taught me what my mother’s faith began — that love doesn’t always reach upward; sometimes it sends roots downward. And in that quiet turning, Christ meets me again — not in the sky, but in the soil, where breath becomes belonging.