This is my story, this is my song….

I’m a recovering perfectionist with a strong pull toward doing things “right.” For most of my life, I believed if I just tried hard enough, learned enough, or followed the right formula, things would turn out the way they were supposed to. Over the last decade, God has gently but persistently unraveled that belief, showing me that my weakness, my limits, and even my failures are not obstacles to His work… they’re often the very place He meets me.

My story really began when I fell head over heels for a cute college guy who felt called to ministry. Not long after our wedding, we stepped straight into seminary life and church ministry in North Carolina. I was leading worship, he was serving in youth and children’s ministry, and together we felt God stirring something unexpected in our hearts: adoption.

What followed can only be described as a whirlwind of grace. In less than five weeks from submitting our application, we were holding our tiny miracle boy. Two days later, we found out we were pregnant with our daughter. Just like that, our family grew from two to four in under a year. It was beautiful, overwhelming, and nothing like we had planned.

A few years later, our son began to struggle in ways we couldn’t explain. Intense emotions, anger, hyperactivity, and daily challenges that left both of us overwhelmed. I was used to figuring things out… but this time, I couldn’t. We spent years searching for answers through doctors, therapy, and endless research, coming up empty again and again.

Meanwhile, life didn’t slow down. We moved to Houston to pastor a small church revitalization. COVID hit. Our church building was struck by lightning. We fought to keep the doors open while quietly fighting for our son at home. In the middle of it all, we welcomed another baby… and I found myself sinking under the weight of anxiety, exhaustion, and the constant pressure to hold everything together.

After six long years, God led us to the right doctors and support, and we finally had answers. Over time, with the right therapies and care, our son began to truly thrive. It felt like light breaking through after a very long night.

We’re still in it. Still learning how to parent in ways that are intentional, not instinctive. Still navigating the daily realities of neurodivergent life. Still pastoring a church that, by God’s grace, is not just surviving but beginning to flourish.

And me? I’m still learning, too. Learning to let go of perfection. Learning to trust God in the unknown. Learning that faith isn’t about getting it all right… it’s about showing up, surrendering, and believing He’s at work in every messy, beautiful piece of the story.