Anchored in Peace

As this year comes to a close, I have been sitting with what it taught me and where peace met me along the way.

Some people may wonder how I stopped blogging after June and did not post for the rest of the year. That was not the plan. I had ideas mapped out and moments I wanted to share. I was especially looking forward to the fall, conversations, possibilities, and what felt like the beginning of a new chapter I had been praying for.

But somewhere along the way, life slowed me down.

Not in a dramatic way. Not in chaos. Just enough to make me pause.

There were things that did not unfold the way I imagined. Plans shifted. Some doors closed quietly. And in November, news came that I did not expect. For a moment, I tried to make sense of it all. But what surprised me most was not the uncertainty. It was the peace that followed.

I did not feel frantic. I did not feel abandoned. I felt held.

“For unto us a child is born and His name shall be called Prince of Peace.”
Isaiah 9:6

Isaiah spoke these words to a people living in uncertainty, divided, anxious, unsure of what was coming next. God’s response was not force or urgency. It was peace wrapped in promise. A reminder that calm does not come from control. It comes from trust.

And that is what this season has been teaching me.

Peace does not mean everything is figured out. It means I am not rushing ahead of God. It means I can sit in the unknown without fear. It means I trust that what is being rearranged is being handled by Someone greater than me.

I have had moments of disappointment, yes. But I have not lost my footing. Because when things stopped making sense, God did not stop being present. Jesus became what Isaiah promised, not just Wonderful Counselor or Mighty God, but Prince of Peace.

The kind of peace that does not demand answers.
The kind that settles your spirit before your situation changes.

“Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead.”
Philippians 3:13 to 14

This scripture reminds me that moving forward does not require noise. Sometimes it requires stillness. I did not go quiet because I had nothing to say. I went quiet because I was learning how to listen.

So where am I now?

I am not reliving every ending or explaining every change. Some chapters do not need closure. They need release. I am choosing clarity over chaos, alignment over urgency, and peace over pressure.

As I move toward my 30th year, I am building a life rooted in calm faith. A life where trust leads, not anxiety. Where becoming matters more than proving.

This blog is returning softer, but steadier. Less rushed. More intentional. Led by peace.

I am moving forward, not because everything is clear, but because my spirit is.

And that is enough.

Faith Over Silence

One thing you will always find here is faith. Not perfection. Not performance. Just trust.

“Commit your way to the Lord. Trust in Him, and He will act.”
Psalm 37:5

I know this past year tested so many of us. There were moments when the weight felt heavy and the questions felt endless. If you believe in God like I do, you probably whispered, “Lord, this test is hard.” But faith became the thing we held onto when nothing else felt certain. And somehow, through every unknown, every shift, every quiet battle, we are still here.

A Closing Prayer

God,
Thank You for carrying us through seasons we did not think we would survive. Thank You for being our peace when answers were delayed and our strength when faith felt stretched. You saw the tears we did not explain, the prayers we could not fully form, and the moments when all we could do was trust You.

Lord, we thank You for being the Prince of Peace, not just when things are calm, but when life feels uncertain. Cover every reader who is tired, hopeful, healing, or simply holding on. Remind us that we are not behind, not forgotten, and not alone. Give us peace that does not depend on outcomes, clarity that comes in Your timing, and faith to keep moving forward even when the path is not fully visible.

We place this new season in Your hands. Lead us gently. Ground us deeply. And keep our hearts anchored in You.

Amen.