Have you ever wondered…
Where do I fit? How do I fit? Does it even matter?
Some days, I’ve even asked myself—Am I just a nobody living in a somebody world?
We all have a story.
But somewhere along the way, life has a way of stripping us—our identity, our joy, even our voice.
And in our fast-paced world, it’s easy to look at someone and think—How do they fit in my life? What benefit do they bring to me?
We make quick judgments… and if they don’t meet our expectations… we move on.
But God doesn’t see people that way.
He looks at the heart.
He knows the story behind the person.
And He calls us to leave space—margin—for the Spirit of God to move.
I rarely share my testimony. Not because I’m ashamed of what God has done in my life—but because the tragedies I’ve walked through would bring shame to people I love.
Even my own children don’t fully know the depth of what God has delivered me from.
Recently, I was encouraged to attend the Global Leadership Summit 2025 at the Midlothian campus and it was like God pulled up a chair next to me and started speaking directly to my soul.
Each speaker echoed the same words:
Legacy. Planning. Endurance. Openness.
And I remembered dreams that had been written in my heart by Him.
God gently reminded me that events of my life are meant to glorify Him. (Psalm 139:16) That they are meant for such a time as this and it’s time to pass down strength, honesty, and hope to others (1 Corinthians 12:7)—to be a legacy (2 Timothy 2:2).
But it’s not just about telling my story.
It’s about creating space to listen to yours.
John Maxwell once said, “What we leave in people is never lost.”
But I would add that “When a person is truly seen… they are never lost.” Hearing the stories of God’s people and the redemption gives purpose and builds relationships with strength.
That’s why hearing each other’s testimonies is so important.
Because every believer’s story is evidence of God’s goodness.
Now my story has led us to Powhatan, Virginia.
After 20 years of raising our kids in the city, my husband and I wanted a slower lane of this life with intention.
So during COVID, we moved several times and then we landed here.
We bought an old, rundown house with a little patch of land and we started a farm.
We came looking for rest but instead, we found solitude.
And in that solitude, I believe God is writing the next chapter.
These days, I’m always surprised when someone calls me by name because it means I’ve been seen.
And in a world of nobodies living in a somebody world that matters.
So if you’ve ever felt invisible, if you’ve ever wondered where you fit, let me tell you why you’re here:
Be salt. Be light. (Matthew 5:13-16)
And never stop telling the story of what God has done.
