I went to war this weekend.
Not a literal war—a spiritual one.

For months the enemy has been whispering the same lies on repeat:

• You’re unworthy.
• You’re unqualified.
• You don’t deserve the good things in life.

And slowly, those LIES started to sound like TRUTH.

I began second-guessing everything:

• This platform and every format of it—blog, podcast, video, all of it
• My role as a mom
• My role as a wife
• How I show up as a friend, daughter, and sister
• The way I manage our home, our budget, and even the nutrition of my family

Ironically, the only place I’ve felt any relief from the enemy lately has been my job—the very job I’ve been trying to transition away from. The job that doesn’t really propel my family, myself, or the kingdom of God in the ways I long for.

I’ve felt this deep inspiration to write a book, and somewhere along the way, I let the book become a distraction—a replacement—for all the areas I feel like I’m failing. Instead of facing the pain, I hid in productivity.

This fall, I joined a small group at my church called Freedom.
It’s a course available all around the world, originally started by Pastor Chris Hodges at Church of the Highlands.

This wasn’t my first time.

The last time I took Freedom, it was one of the darkest seasons of my life. I was pregnant with my daughter, fighting in court over my house with family members. I lived with a constant fear that by the time she was born, I wouldn’t have a room for her nursery—or a home at all.

Freedom taught me, then, how to fight back spiritually when everything felt like it was falling apart. That the battle wasn’t my husband and I against these family members, it was spiritual. Jesus fought that battle 2,000 years ago and all we needed to do was show up and remember that He already won.

So when this recent wave of shame, doubt, and spiritual heaviness started crashing over me again, I knew I needed to go back.

The weekly small group meetings this time around were… good. Comforting, familiar. But if I’m being honest, the didn’t feel “earth-shattering.” That wasn’t because of the course or my leaders or the women in my group. It was me.

I’ve done this course before. I was juggling a lot. And I was numbing myself with distractions. It’s hard to let God dig deep when you’re constantly trying not to feel too much.

Then came the Freedom Conference this weekend.

And something broke loose.

I felt a fire inside me that I haven’t felt this strong in a long, long time.

God started surfacing things I didn’t even realize were still buried:

• Emotional abuse
• Deep feelings of abandonment
• Persistent shame

I’ve wanted to use this platform to help other women fight spiritual warfare. That’s been my heart from the beginning—start with blog posts, podcasts, videos, and shorts, then eventually create a course, and one day, a book with a small-group companion.

But somewhere in the middle of that vision, I got stuck in the very war I wanted to help others fight.

The enemy started hissing:

• No one is watching.
• No one is reading.
• No one is listening.
• No one will join your group.
• No one will buy your book.
• No church would ever use your small-group companion.

And then came the dagger:

You’re wasting your time. You’re stealing time from your family. You should just accept this house, this job, this version of life. This is as good as it’s going to get.

I started to believe it.

But today, God used multiple people to speak over me—affirming and reminding me of His calling on my life. Things they couldn’t possibly know on their own. Words that cut straight through the lies I’d been carrying.

Here’s the thing: I am not naturally a social person.

I can get minor social anxiety about opening up about my past, my struggles, and my needs. I would much rather sit in the back, stay quiet, and process everything in my journal.

But at the Freedom Conference, you don’t just sit and soak. You walk up. You open your mouth. You expose whatever God is stirring in you.

The sessions covered things like:

• Fear
• Rejection
• Soul ties
• Shame
• Healing from abuse
• Pride

After each session, you’re invited (and very encouraged) to walk forward, tell a prayer leader what you need prayer for, and let someone stand in the gap with you. Then you go back to your seat and worship, pray, and listen before the next session begins.

Every time I thought I was “done,” God would reveal something else—another angle, another memory, another layer He wanted to touch. Honestly, I feel like I could go through the whole conference again next weekend and God would still uncover more places in my heart that need healing, repentance, or forgiveness.

Right now, I’m raw.
I’m tired in that deeply emotional way where your soul feels wrung out.

I don’t have a neat five-step plan or a polished new project to announce today. What I do know is this:

• I’m going to be praying and fasting this week.
• I’m asking God to clearly show me what He wants this next season to look like.
• I’m surrendering my plans—book, course, content, all of it—back into His hands.

I sense that before I can lead other women into battle, I need to let God tend to the wounds He just dug loose in me. I need to let Him clean them out, bandage them, and begin the deeper work of healing.

So if you’re reading this—please know this:

I am working on something new.
Something more aligned with God’s heart than what I was trying to build mostly in my own strength before.

I don’t know all the details yet. But I do know this:

The war isn’t over.
But I’m not fighting it alone anymore.

And neither are you.