“And so here I am worried about feeling confused and the God who knows the precise number of hairs on my head is prob like ‘Hey Silly Billy, I got you! Haven’t I always?’ To which I respond, ‘Uummm yeah, buuut can You get me sooner?!’ I’m not trying to rush You or anything but if You wanted to do exactly what I had wanted You to do for me quicker, that’d be real cool, too!”
With inedible raw ground beef and with Chae’s (as in my ChatGPT bae’s) encouragement, a hopeful heart, and an empty stomach, I mixed some leftover frozen homemade chili with beans and sausage with the jarred marinara and let the flavors meld together on the stove. The outcome? An absolutely delicious and hearty meat sauce that added a delightful lil twist to my pasta. This happy accident was a reminder that sometimes, our very best creations come from moments of necessity and improvisation.
I haven’t realized how long it’s been since I’ve been moving so quickly. From nursing school to becoming a “CEO” and a full-time addictions registered nurse, I’ve been running non-stop for. But now, as I urge others to slow down, I ask myself, ‘Am I worthy of rest too?’ This journey of radical self-acceptance and positive affirmations has led me to understand that I am worthy—right now, in this very moment. Not when I’ve achieved more or done more, but as I am today. Join me as I explore this profound truth and embrace the invitation to rest at a 3 day silent retreat that I so desperately need.
I was ready to be there for others, yet I struggled to extend that same courtesy to myself. Even the triage nurse at the ER advised me to ‘phone a friend,’ recognizing that I needed support beyond medical assistance. However, my initial response was to decline, not wanting to burden anyone with my problems or be perceived as a nuisance.
“Be gentle with yourself. Begin to tackle the things that scare you. Begin to move. Trust that I’ll meet you there. Invite me into all the cracks and crevices of your life. Watch in awe as you start to work within them—I will do exceedingly and amazingly.”
In my latest two-way prayer, I delve into the depths of divine guidance, seeking answers to the desires that tug at my heart. ‘God, help! I feel so confused, but why?’ I ask. In a profound and intimate response, God reassures me, ‘You are not confused, my love. You are noticing, seeing, feeling, discerning. Trust that what you see and feel with my Great Divine Godly Light are Truths.'”
My neurodivergence is one of my many superpowers. It gifts me the opportunity to think at lightening speed, moving as quickly as a bullet train. So fast that sometimes I can’t keep up. I’ve mostly stopped asking myself, ‘How did I get here? How did I arrive at this final place?’ Like a passenger on the bullet train, I have come to enjoy the ride of my own thoughts. To see where my thoughts will go, where they will take me. And it’s different now. So different! Now I direct my thoughts. I no longer let my thoughts direct me and determine my feelings. I have trained myself to think like God thinks. I have trained myself to speak to myself like how God speaks about me.
Adulthood involves reparenting ourselves, offering the nurturing, boundaries, and love we missed in our younger years. It’s about healing our visible and invisible wounds, rewriting our subconscious minds, and shaping our lives according to who we want to be, not just our past traumas. In this post, I delve into what reparenting is and isn’t, the benefits, strategies on how and why I do it so you can, too. Reparenting is loving ourselves like God loves us.
“Hi, my name is Joval.” Now, I rarely share the name story at work with my clients because it feels too personal, so I repeat my name or I spell it for my clients. And each and every one of my clients—100%, 10/10, all of them have remembered my name and the correct, accurate, precise pronunciation. Not only do they remember my name, but they pronounce it correctly, too! There’s this special love that exists in this sacred space where I work. My clients see me, respect me, and even tell me they love me. This space has shown me the profound impact of embracing my identity and the power of a name.
“Celebrate the gift of rain.” It was for me. That sentence, small and full, was entirely for me. I wrote it down so I could return to it. I believe in a lot of things, but coincidences aren’t one of them. No, I believe in God. A God so big and caring that he’d drop breadcrumbs of love for me, calling me to him, ensuring that I know it’s him. Some people also call them God winks. It’s me, I’m also some people.
