From Rebellion to Restoration 🦋 –

In 2016, I stood in front of the Chicago skyline, smiling for a photo. But behind that smile was a heart buried in pain, a body carrying nearly 400 pounds, and a soul in deep rebellion.

I was in one of the darkest seasons of my life. I wasn’t blaming God, but I was running from Him. The weight I carried wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, spiritual, and deeply rooted in unresolved trauma. I refused to forgive my parents for the pain of my childhood, even though I knew God was asking me to. I was angry, triggered, and honestly… exhausted.

That rebellion didn’t look like wild living—it looked like silence. Distance. Isolation. Depression. I didn’t want to open my Bible. I didn’t want to talk to Him. But He never stopped whispering to me.

🕊️ “Come back. I’m still here.”

In 2017, my husband James encouraged us to go back to church, and that’s when I met my current church family. Joe and I started volunteering—at the food pantry, with meals—and for the first time in a long time, I felt the tiniest stir of hope.

I remember the day I shared my story with one of the pastors. She was the first person outside my family who ever knew the full truth. She listened, prayed with me, and wrapped me in love. To this day, when I’m hurting, I still long for her hug. Her presence felt like safety. Like grace.

But life happened, and James went through a hard season. We stopped going to church for several years. And in that time… I spiraled.

By 2022, I hadn’t driven my car in five years. I kept the blinds shut. I barely left my apartment. A neighbor even said, “I didn’t know you lived there.” I was alive, but not really living. I was sick, trapped in fear, overwhelmed by anxiety, and hidden in the dark.

Then came August 2022… and a moment that changed everything.

I became dangerously ill from a reaction to my medications. I couldn’t reach James and called 911 myself. At the hospital, the doctors insisted I was having a panic attack and tried to give me more meds—which I refused. I knew something deeper was wrong. Because I wouldn’t let them treat me, they told me to leave.

So there I sat in the ER waiting room. In my nightgown and bathrobe. Crying. Alone.

And then—God moved.

A friend I hadn’t heard from in months called me out of nowhere. She said, “Are you okay?” and I just burst into tears. She was on her way to work, but she turned around and picked me up. When I asked why she called, she said something I’ll never forget:

“God told me to check on you.”

😭

That ride home was a blur. I could barely make it up the stairs. I checked on Joe and Jonah… and then collapsed into bed. I laid there and sobbed. And then I did the unthinkable:

I asked God to take my life. Or I would do it myself.

But instead of silence, I was met with His presence.

My room filled with the most beautiful scent—I can only describe it as what I imagine the Garden of Eden must smell like. The darkness didn’t leave, but it was pierced by something holy. I didn’t see anyone, but I felt a hand wipe my tears. Then it rested gently on my shoulder.

And I knew.

It was Jesus.

He had come for me.

In that sacred moment, I cried like never before. I poured out every ounce of guilt, trauma, regret, and rebellion. I asked Him to forgive me—and I forgave my parents and every family member who didn’t protect me. I sobbed, I prayed, and that hand never moved… just gently patted or rubbed my shoulder like a loving Father calming His child.

I eventually fell asleep in His presence. When I woke up, the physical hand was gone, but I knew He was still there.

And He’s never left since.

From that day on, I have lived like Jesus is standing beside me—because He IS. That was the day I truly gave Him my life and said yes to healing. Yes to forgiveness. Yes to living again.

That was the day I decided to go back to church. 

💖 Today, in June 2025, I took a picture in my car after leaving my doctor’s office. I now weigh 260 pounds—that’s over 130 pounds down from my highest weight, and 61 pounds since January 1st alone. I’m off one diabetic medication entirely, and using only half of the other. We’re checking my A1C to hopefully stop the last one soon.

But this isn’t a “before and after” weight loss story.

✨ This is a redemption story.
✨ A rescue story.
✨ A Jesus-never-let-go story.

If you’re in a place where it feels like the dark has won, I want to tell you: it hasn’t. You’re not forgotten. You’re not too far gone. And the God who met me in my darkest moment will meet you in yours.

Let Him.

You’re worth saving.

🙏 A Prayer for the One Who Feels Lost

Jesus,
I lift up the one reading these words right now—the one who is weary, hurting, scared, or numb. The one who feels like they’re drowning in memories, pain, or silence. Wrap them in Your arms the way You wrapped Yourself around me. Let them feel the gentle hand of Heaven resting on their shoulder tonight.

Remind them that they are not forgotten.
That they are not too far gone.
That even in the darkness… You see them. You know them. You love them.

God, break the chains that hold them back—chains of shame, fear, guilt, depression, and unforgiveness. Give them the courage to speak Your name, even if all they can whisper is “help.” Come and flood their room, their heart, their mind, with the peace that passes all understanding.

Let this be the moment their story shifts.

Let this be the day everything begins to change.

Thank You for never giving up on me, Jesus. And thank You for never giving up on them either.

Amen.

I am a click away. If you want to reach out to me, my email is [email protected]. I would love to pray for you.  

You are not alone, Sister.

Jesus sees you. I see you. And I’m here—cheering you on, praying with you, and walking beside you in faith.