What’s been stirring lately (and how it’s shaping my stories)

A behind-the-scenes look at life, liminality, and the slow-burning sequel it’s producing

Life Has Been… A Lot

There’s a lot I could say right now.
About the plot twists life has taken.
About the quiet ways God’s been reshaping the parts of me that don’t make it into captions or quick reels.
About the sequel I’ve been writing—and how it feels both heavier and holier than the first.

But here’s what I’ll say today:
Sometimes the page feels far away not because we’ve walked away from the story…
But because the story is still being lived.

And lately?
That’s been true for me.

🕊 Pressure Doesn’t Produce the Kind of Writing I Want to Offer

I’ve had to learn—again—that I can’t write from pressure.

At least not the kind of writing I want to offer.
The kind that holds grief and hope in the same sentence.
The kind that wrestles with calling and cost.
The kind that bleeds and breathes.

This season has been slower than I planned.
There were chapters I thought I’d have finished by now.
Deadlines I missed. Rhythms I hoped to keep.

But instead, I’ve been moving through something deeper.
And that movement—while not always productive on paper—has been profoundly forming.

The In-Between Is Still Sacred

There’s a sacred ache that lives in transition seasons.
The in-between. The not-quite-there-yet.
The space where you’re no longer who you were, but not yet who you’re becoming.

That’s where I’ve been writing from.

It’s made me more tender with my characters.
More honest in my storytelling.
More reverent with the work.

Because writing isn’t just a task I check off.
It’s a mirror. A ministry. A quiet, sometimes-agonizing, sometimes-exhilarating act of becoming.

If You’re in a Disrupted Rhythm Too…

If your own writing rhythm feels disrupted . . .
If you’ve been wondering why the words feel harder to catch lately . . .
If you’ve been afraid to open your manuscript because you’re not sure what version of yourself will meet the page . . .

I get it.

You’re not behind.
You’re becoming.
And the pauses you’re tempted to resent?
They might be the very spaces where the next layer of your story is being born.

What’s Coming (and What’s Been Refined)

The book I’m preparing to release didn’t come from a place of ease.

It came from liminality.
From staying when I wanted to sprint.
From writing in stolen moments and surrendered hours.
From trusting the process even when it felt invisible.

And I can’t wait to show you what it’s become.

Next week, I’ll be revealing the cover of my sequel—and sharing a few pieces of the story that were shaped in this season of stretching.

Final Thoughts (and an Invitation)

Until then, here’s what I hope you hold close:

✨ Writing is not a race. It’s a rhythm.
✨ Even the stillness is part of your process.
✨ You don’t have to write from pressure. You can write from presence.

Your next step:

If you’ve been in a stretch of sacred stillness too—comment below or reply to this post with “Still Becoming.” Let’s honor this slow, holy work together.

And if you want to be the first to see the cover (and the story that grew in the fire), make sure you're subscribed to my newsletter (check the boxes below!).

The story’s still alive.
And so are you.