Take Only What You Need

As I was getting ready for a few days at the beach with family, the thought of packing gave me an immediate headache. Preparing to spend time away from home usually means taking everything short of the kitchen sink. My mind went into overdrive as I thought about all the electronics I "needed" to function on a daily basis and the anxiety grew stronger as I thought more about forgetting the accompanying cords.

After checking the weather forecast for South Carolina, I pulled out endless clothing possibilities that left my bedroom looking like a tornado touched down. Truth be told, I wasn’t here for all the "glitz and glam" on this trip. I was in a lighter mood, so I wanted my wardrobe to reflect what I felt on the inside--freedom. I grabbed some tanks, leggings and a few dusters-Bam! I was done minus the toiletries, shoes and cosmetics. I could’ve downsized some more but I was proud of myself. I had accomplished something meaningful! For the first time in years, I wasn’t carrying a load, specifically someone else’s.

I left behind all the "nonessential" nonsense that claimed my attention on occasion.

I left behind the overwhelming to-do-list.

I left behind the inescapable family drama that’s always on "repeat" in the background.

I took a little more than I needed but I left the "junk" behind. I didn’t think about what I had to face when I return back home. Actually, I didn’t think about much of anything! I was free!

Still.

In my "happy place."

Ready to recharge in God’s presence.

I woke up to a rainy day with an oceanfront view and no outlined agenda. There’s no itinerary, nagging responsibilities or scheduled commitments. This feels like paradise. The "calm" after the storm.

When we endure challenges, it feels like relief is far fetched. Our prayers can feel like vain attempts to get God’s attention, knowing that there are other severe cases ahead of ours.

After awhile, being in the valley seems like home, but then God shifts the atmosphere and releases your abundance.

Peace shows up.

Love returns.

Freedom overpowers.

Take only what you need to THRIVE, leave the rest behind.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." --Matthew 11:28

Comments

Broken Covenant

Once upon a time— I wanted to believe something was real so desperately that I silenced the Spirit within me just to keep the illusion alive. I saw every red flag— not as warnings, but as tests of how much I was willing to endure to feel chosen. I asked no questions because truth was already whispering, and I feared what obedience would cost me. So I made a covenant with denial— calling lies “grace,” and confusion “patience,” because the truth felt too vast, too holy, too disruptive to the future I had built in my mind. I clung to potential like it was promise, and mistook absence for peace. Yet the weight of it— this thing I called love— crushed my spirit daily. Still, desperation dressed itself as loyalty and convinced me to stay. And it didn’t get better. It decayed. Quietly at first… then unmistakably. Each time God unveiled truth, I chose the comfort of shadows over the calling of light. I pleaded. I prayed. I begged— not for revelation, but for permission to remain where I w...

From Chaos to Calm

After a while… the need to be heard at full volume begins to dissolve. The rooftops grow silent. The flames you once fed with trembling hands no longer feel like power— only exhaustion. What you burned never built a home. And somewhere along the way, you realize— not every echo returns, not every seed takes root, not every mountain was yours to climb. The grace you poured out like water in a desert, the love you offered with open, unguarded hands— it did not come back the way you imagined. And still… you are here. So instead of fighting what refuses to bend, you loosen your grip. Not in defeat— but in awakening. You release the need to be answered, to be chosen, to be understood by those who never learned your language. Your hands, once reaching outward, begin to rise— not in desperation, but in devotion. Upward. Open. Steady. God… I see You now in the quiet I once avoided. I hear You not in the thunder— but in the space where my striving used to live. And I am ready. Something within ...

Do Not Resuscitate (DNR)

What unsettles me most about some people is not the harm they cause— but the silence that follows it. No conviction. No trembling. No evidence that a soul was ever stirred. As if something sacred once lived there… and quietly left. What remains is form without fire. A body that breathes, but does not feel . A Walking corpse. Spiritually vacant, yet socially skilled— fluent in imitation, but foreign to truth. They move through people like weather— touching everything, anchoring nowhere. I once mistook that emptiness for mystery. Confused detachment with depth. Thought restraint was discipline, when it was really disconnection. But there was no rootedness in him— only appetite. An endless hunger dressed as desire. A man grazing on bodies, scrolling through souls like they were disposable moments. Not searching. Not building. Just consuming— to quiet something unnamed within him. Unhealed wounds don’t stay still. They wander. From bed to bed, from face to face, from high ...

A Daily Dose of Freedom

Search This Blog