God got my attention when I was five years old.
I didn’t know what to call it then. I just knew something bigger than me was paying attention—and somehow, inviting me to pay attention back.
Ever since then my life has been one long conversation with Him. Not always tidy. Not always traditional. But unmistakably real.

Over the years, He has shown up in ways that are both beautifully ordinary and deeply unexpected—through people, circumstances, songs that arrive at the exact right moment, repeating numbers, a butterfly crossing my path, or a quiet nudge that feels unmistakably like the Holy Spirit whispering, “Look closer.”
Because of that, I’ve never been able to confine my relationship with God to someone else’s template.
I love Jesus. I follow Him. I listen for the Holy Spirit. I read the Word every day. That is the center of my faith. But I’ve also learned that my relationship with God is personal, alive, and unfolding. And sometimes that can trigger people who live most comfortably inside rigid certainty.
Part of the reason is that I ask questions. Lots of them. I always have. I learned early that shutting down curiosity in order to fit inside someone else’s definition of faith felt more dangerous than honest seeking. God has shown me too many times that He moves both within tradition and far beyond it.
I believe God is in e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g.
I seek His invisible hand in all that comes my way—people, circumstances, signs, numbers, songs, even the quiet appearance of a butterfly. I believe we are spiritual beings first, having a human experience second, and that the veil between heaven and earth is thinner than we often realize.
For many years, I explored and studied some of the New Age practices that were popular in spiritual circles. In an unexpected way, that journey became part of how God brought me back more fully to the Bible and to following Jesus more closely. What I eventually realized was that the constant searching—tarot cards, mediums, and other practices—never truly soothed my soul. Some of those paths opened doors that didn’t feel aligned with the peace and clarity God intends for us.
After many years of that, I finally closed those doors—firmly—but with a grateful heart. Because even that season served a purpose. It showed me that while some of those practices could occasionally reveal accurate information, they were still pulling my attention away from the real source. In hindsight, I could see that I was dabbling in the dark when what my soul truly needed was the light of God. Not for me to just believe. I always did. But to follow. Really follow.
That realization changed everything.
Today, I don’t need a medium to interpret the spiritual world for me. I listen to the Holy Spirit, and His voice is far clearer than any reading or outside interpretation could ever be.
So sometimes I don’t fit neatly into a religious box. I used to try, mostly to make others comfortable. But somewhere after turning fifty, the people-pleasing started to fall away. What remained was something simpler and more honest: my responsibility is to be obedient to what God asks of me, not to perform faith for other humans.
My relationship with Him is personal—just like yours is with yours. No one standing outside of it can fully measure or judge it.
What I know, at the end of the day, is this:
I love God.
I follow Jesus.
I listen for the Holy Spirit in the everyday moments most people rush past.
And I’m still paying attention.
Amen.