Trust. Obey. Surrender.” That title speaks straight to the heart it’s the foundation of our walk with Christ. Was there a specific season or Scripture that inspired you to write this? I’d love to hear the story behind it.
I would drop the proving energy. I wouldn’t change the traits—I’d still want to be independent, strong, curious, and courageous. But I’d let go of the need to prove I was those things. Because the truth is, I already was. I spent so much time trying to convince myself and others, I didn’t realize I could have been simply living them. I missed moments of joy and self-recognition by constantly measuring up. If I could go back, I’d just own who I am sooner—and let that be enough.
Honestly, success starts with getting the words out of my head and onto the page. Then there’s the win of shaping those thoughts into something more than scattered notes—turning them into a format that someone else can hold, read, and connect with. Every step is its own success. But if my words help thousands, or connect even one person more deeply to themselves or to God—that’s not just success. That’s grace-covered, undeserved heaven on earth.
Good writing—whether fiction or nonfiction—should be honest and heartfelt. It doesn’t have to be polished or perfect, but it should come from somewhere real. The most powerful writing reveals something true about the author, something that breaks them open just enough to invite the reader to do the same. When words come from that depth, they don’t just inform—they connect, comfort, and sometimes even heal.
It’s only happened a few times, and not from my books yet; but from my work as a speaker and coach. And every time, it’s both humbling and deeply rewarding. To know that my words made an impact on someone else, especially when they grew first from impacting me, is surreal. It feels like a God-given moment. A quiet confirmation that the work matters, and that sharing it was worth it.
