but this is ~not~ the end.

IMG_1618I have not shared my thoughts here for two months.

Not because I haven’t had them

but because I’ve had so many

that I can hardly keep them straight

because I’m afraid that my voice

doesn’t matter anyway

and is just another sound

echoing in this noisy place.

The thoughts that keep me up at night

fear of disease

fear of war

fear of political powers

fear of injustices

fear of persecution

fear that I cannot help.

I’m so tired.

But this is not the end.

My fear is sin

birthed out of a need

to control it all

fix it all

save them all.

I deleted my instagram

because I was tired of the voices-

voices that reprimanded me

believing that posting photos

of my white children during

a social justice uprising

was an act of White Supremacy,

voices that said funny memes

were displeasing to God,

voices that were offended

by my messy home,

my vulnerability,

voices that said my privilege

made me blind

(but all this time

I thought the love of Jesus

has always

been the thing that

made me see

people more clearly:

beautiful, unique,

made in God’s image).

I deleted my tiktok

because surely someone like me

ought to be more serious-

the voices I’m hearing tell me so,

thus the “wasteful entertainment”

needed to go.

It is now a privilege

for people to peek into my life

to see pictures of my children

to hear my thoughts and opinions

because I fear the judgement

the sneers

the negative comments

the exploitation.


WHY do I care about the voices

that aren’t from Him?

I should not. I cannot.

I cannot please each

and every living soul.

I cannot even try

or I will unravel.

The news of children

being used

and abused

for the perverse

sexual pleasure

of grown men

sickens my very soul.

The thought of someone’s

precious baby being stripped

of their innocence against their will

It makes me want to scream

to punch a wall

to weep at the injustice of it all.

Two months I’ve taken

to think

to stop

to be still

to listen

to the only one who matters.


I have been so tired.

And what He has told me

is that this is not the end.

My children daily ask

“when will covid go away?”

their silenced voices muffled

under the coverage

of their suffocating masks.

No school

no friends with whom they can play.

Trying to do homework

from home

every day.

Mom and Dad are little help

as we sit in front of our computers

trying to provide

but really, aren’t we just becoming

slaves to the screens we sit behind?

We are tired.

But this is not the end.

People are dying all around us

cities are burning

people are hating one another

turning against one another

and suddenly the entirety of your character

is judged upon whether

you vote red or blue.

The media doesn’t even bother

to hide their bias anymore.

I can believe nothing

I can believe no one.

Everything is upside down.

You can end the life of your unborn baby

but you cannot send your children to school

you can gamble in casinos

but you cannot go to church

you cannot hug your neighbor

you cannot smile at a stranger

you cannot high-five a friend

you cannot shake hands with a new acquaintance

and also, stand far enough way from me

that you can hardly hear my voice

or hardly see the expression on my face.

No wonder we don’t trust each other anymore.

I am tired.

But this is not the end.

I find myself asking God

“what about my dreams?

what about my passions?

what about the future of my children?

why does it seem that everything

including my joy

has been taken away?

Is this the end?”

This is not a list of complaints

but the desperate groanings

of a woman surrendering

to the fact that she

is simply


at best

a servant of God

a tool for His glory

a child set apart

for His use

to bring people to salvation

to bring light to the darkness

to bring healing to the broken

to bring strength to weary.

Oh, Lord, I am tired!

I am broken!

But I believe your Word

and this is just the beginning

of what you have planned

of what you will do

of who you will save

of how you will use me!

Oh Lord, I am weary!

But you have told me

and I believe you,










  1. Ah, if only more believers could be this honest and vulnerable, what a difference the Church would make in this world.


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