Writing has become my sanctuary. My prayer journal spilled onto pages. My childhood, my trauma, my healing — all laid bare.

And yet sometimes it feels like those words fall into a space where no one is curious enough to sit with them. To ask questions. To engage. To know me beyond surface love.

That kind of unseen ache is dangerous if left unnamed.

What scares me most is the spiritual loneliness. Walking through what feels like warfare with no one guarding your back.

Loving deeply while wondering if you’re becoming one with someone who isn’t walking in the same direction.

Knowing marriage is close and asking yourself hard questions you hoped you’d never have to ask.

Am I asking for too much?

Or am I finally asking for what’s necessary?

I don’t want perfection. I don’t want forced faith. I don’t want arguments or ultimatums.

I want unity that’s built on respect. Leadership that doesn’t require me to shrink. Love that doesn’t make me feel invisible. A partnership where faith isn’t a threat, but a foundation.

Lately, God has been quiet in a way that feels intentional. Not absent — just still. Like He’s asking me to stop explaining, stop chasing, stop carrying what isn’t mine to fix. Like He’s saying, “Speak truth once. Then watch.”

So this is me watching. Praying. Holding my ground without hardening my heart.

If you’re reading this and you feel the same ache — the kind that doesn’t have a clear answer yet — know this: confusion doesn’t mean you’re lost. Sometimes it means you’re finally listening.

And maybe that’s where healing actually begins.

🕊 Closing Prayer

God,

I lay down the ache of being unseen. The words I’ve written that feel like they fell into silence.

The parts of my story I’ve offered with an open heart, hoping someone would sit with them instead of skimming past. You see me — even here. Even in the waiting. Even in the questions I’m afraid to ask out loud.

If this quiet is intentional, help me not rush it.

If You are asking me to stop explaining, stop chasing, stop carrying what isn’t mine, give me the strength to obey without fear.

Teach me how to speak truth once, then trust You with what follows. Guard my heart as I watch. Keep it soft, not naïve. Brave, not bitter.

Anchored, not hardened. Where I feel spiritually alone, remind me that You are my covering. Where unity feels uncertain, be my stability. Where love feels fragile, teach me how to stand without shrinking. If I am listening now in a new way, sharpen my discernment.

If healing is beginning here, help me not interrupt it by doubting myself. I trust You in the stillness. I trust You with what I cannot control. I trust You to lead me where truth and peace meet.

Amen.

XOXO, The Healing Wildflower 🌻