I haven’t posted anything in quite some time — mostly because I simply didn’t want to. Partly because work, ministry, and life have kept me so busy that I felt I had nothing worth saying. And when I did think I had something to say, I lacked the desire to write. And when the desire finally showed up, I felt convicted.

Who was I writing for? Does it even matter?

Of course it matters to me. Writing has always been my outlet, my little corner of the world. My friends and family read what I write, but they already know about most of what I post. So, I kept wondering: Is this selfish? Does it still help in the way I originally intended? Does it point to Jesus, or is it just a small ambition I cling to?

And . . . I admit . . . sometimes I feel like I am too much . . . that I have shared too much and that others are tired of hearing my “woe is me” storytelling, even though I believe sharing my vulnerable truth is my gift as a writer and pastor.

Then I attended a conference on trauma in the church. Honestly, I went because my alma mater hosted. I wanted to see old friends, visit family, and spend time in a town I love. Trauma care is my passion, but I wasn’t sure the conference itself would teach me anything new.

I was wrong.

The whole experience captivated me. Before the conference, I received our new fall preaching schedule. My name was listed for a few weeks after the conference — and the topic my pastor assigned was simply: Renee’s choice.

I texted her that she might end up regretting giving me that freedom.

Her response came back immediately:
Regret it?! Never! I can’t wait!

Everything I had been hearing, learning, and wrestling with poured straight into that sermon.

Normally, once I preach, I let the message go. But this one hasn’t left me. It sits differently — heavier, truer, closer. I’m still not sure why.

During downtime at work, I tried to distract myself with the usual tasks, but my mind kept circling back. I felt an unexpected urge to log into my website — something I rarely do. When I checked the stats, I was surprised to see that my little site and my little stories have traveled around the globe. I never set out seeking monetary gain or to accumulate likes and follows. I simply put it out there and left it to chance (God) for those who need it to find it.

Then something caught my eye.

I add links to some of my pages and posts, including one that directs people to immediate help. It’s always encouraging to see strangers download my novels, but this was different. Sometime between January 1, 2026 and today, someone clicked that external link to find help now.

Just one click.
But that one click matters.

I started this page during COVID as part of a class project, at a time when I was sinking. It became my lifeline, and I hoped my words might help someone else — even one person. If my words could do that, it would all be worth it.

Seeing that single click reminded me that my words do matter. Still, I doubted myself and the future of this site.

Then, I met with my therapist. I told her about the sermon, what led to it, what happened after it – and I opened a (figurative) box I have nailed shut since the COVID days. Toward the end of our time together, I shared with her how I sometimes feel like I’m too much – and that people are tired of hearing from me and that I need to stop talking for a while – at least about the deep, emotionally charged stuff.

My therapist reacted in a way I rarely see from her. She began by asking me to think of people I deeply respect who are just as vulnerable, and reminded me that I would never judge them the way I was judging myself. Then, she reminded me that God has given me a gift, that this gift matters, and that the voice urging me to be silent is not from God but from Satan. Her passionate rebuke was just what I needed to hear.

So maybe I should start posting again . . . maybe. At the very least, I shouldn’t take the site down, as I’ve been contemplating.

For now, it will remain. And I’ll keep doing what I do — as the mood strikes.

I didn’t even write a long‑hand version of my sermon this time. The outline and slides were enough. I had lived with the message for so long before shaping the outline that it was already woven into me. I didn’t need pages of long‑hand to help me remember it. It’s something I couldn’t forget.

I considered writing it out longhand for posting here, but honestly? I don’t have the energy or desire. Planning, organizing, and delivering the message took a lot out of me. It’s like wrapping up an intense therapy session. It left me emotionally drained and I just need a break from it.

I am posting my sermon video for whoever might stumble across it and need to hear God’s word.

I’ll admit I haven’t felt much like writing lately, but I long to write again. So, until life settles down a bit . . . or until I make time for it . . . here is a piece of me. If you have stumbled upon this page and read up to this point, I hope you will take the time to watch the video and share it with someone else who may need to be encouraged and loved.

Enjoy, and thank you.

_{^{If you found this helpful and would like a copy of my outline or Power Point, feel free to CONTACT me. 😊}}