Why is it that we grow up learning things about God, we read it every day (or try to read it every day, I’m not always to faithful to my daily Jesus alone time), we hear it in church – yet somehow we forget it? Nothing else in my life is constant and never changing like the word of God. Nothing has been there for me despite challenges and obstacles like God has.

WHY do I feel so crappy now-a-days, allowing stress, bad news, anxiety, whatever it may be, knock me down. When instead I should be believing and trusting in God? (Ya know, all the things I logically know to do)

I have struggled in so many different aspects in my life and God has heard my prayers and changed my circumstances. Throughout the years, He has proven himself faithful time and time again on so many occasions – little and big. In the moment, it seems as if He is silent, but He never fails to show how much He cares about me on every level. And I know this, by reading from the bible (the book I said was real constant remember?) AND from very real experiences. He cares, He loves, He won’t ever abandon, and He has my back.

So, uhhhh, why do I stress out so much about my life and how it’s going? Even when I don’t think I’m stressing out, it’s almost like my subconscious has anxiety. It manifests by dysregulated mood, tearfulness, random outburst, etc. Of course all those things are likely a combination of stressors in my life, anxiety, fears, defense mechanisms, and honestly, probably hormones. But still, I’m like freaking out more than I should be..

But in reality why do I have so much anxiety about my present circumstances? If I’m doing the right thing? (that one is major) If I picked the right field to work in? I get anxiety and afraid when I can’t figure out whether or not I’m happy. That sounds crazy, but it’s true! Why am I so fearful for my future when I know God’s already there.

I have learned this my whole life, I read this all the time and hear about it often in church. But it’s like I forget when it comes to my own life. I need to surrender all these things. I need to trust that God really does care about every single part of me, no matter what size. That he authored the way my heart expresses itself, but He wants to hear about it in prayer. I need to trust that He really does love me and for that he won’t ever abandon me. God has shown me that no matter what the Bible is true and He will always have my back for I am His daughter.




Its been about 8 months of full time work, and I hate to be a debby downer, but man am I miserable. This is just not what i thought it would be like.

I’m not helping people like I wanted to, or yet like I have a passion or calling to. Im already jaded and burnt out and I’m so early in my career. I already feel like I can’t do this anymore.

I keep thinking about how there has to be more. I see all these people On Facebook going on mission trips. I think about three that I’ve been on and realize thats when I was the happiest. I was never as happy as I was in Israel.. I’ve been reflecting a lot of my time there since it’s been about a year. I so desperately want to go back.

There has to be more to this life. And I know that many people are called to be missionaries in their own field. But is that really me? I find hard time finding peace in that. As much as I love social justice and advocacy, I’m not sure I love being social work field – at least not right now I don’t.

It breaks my heart to even say that. As if everything I’ve worked so hard for was nothing. As if these people I’m working for don’t need help, because I know they do. But no one really understands how it is and less they are doing it. No one understands how emotionally draining it is and as a result you become so burnt out. No one understands how people take advantage of you, so you become so jaded and stop caring.

God I pray you show me what you want me to do. I pray you open up doors. I pray you get me out of this job, and get me to another one. I keep thinking about how I want to be as happy as I was in Israel. How it’s not realistic for me to travel all over the world and do it I love, but you’re the same God everywhere.

So I know that joy, the same one I experienced on Mt. Carmel, is possible anywhere.


Wake me up when September ends 

I havent stopped to collect my thoughts in awhile. I feel like im on this moving train and there’s no stopping. Like i’ve been pushing myself to the limits week after week, and not stopping. My job forces me to take care of others. I guess i havent stopped to take care of myself. Im so exhausted all the time.. mentally and emotionally. 

I see people move on without me. People who once cared about me, i wonder if they remember me. I wonder if this resentment will ever go away. Then I wonder if all of this is because I’m just starting my career. 

Will this end? Can i get it together? Will i find my place in life? How much longer can i keep pushing myself week after week? When will the right doors open? 

I cant help but have so many questions on the back of my mind. I cant help but not be happy even though i’ve worked so hard to be where i am today. I’m not exactly sure where to go from here or even who to turn to anymore. From the outside it probably looks like im doing fantastic, but i dont know what to do with these unwavering feelings anymore. 

God i pray you hear me. I pray you see me when i feel invisible and see my weary heart. Thank you for not forgetting about me when i feel like the world has moved on without me. 

Waiting Games

What is it about social media that makes us feel like we have to post things about ourselves to feel good? What’s that saying? If a tree fall falls in a forest, and no one is a around to hear it, does it make a sounds? Today’s translation: If you don’t post anything on social media about who you’re with/what you’re doing, did it even happen?

Lately I’ve found myself in a continuos cycle of deleting my social media apps, then re-download them when I’m bored. I’ve grown envious of other people’s “picture perfect” lives. I’ve become sadden that my life is not where I want it to be. It’s dumb, but I keep thinking, “I never have anything to post.” That I don’t have the job that others do, that I’m not as smart, as pretty, I don’t have as much fun, and I’m not in that perfect relationship. I know everything online is only for show and people only post the good things, but it’s been affecting me.

Recently, my ex-boyfriend got married. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m very happy for him and he deserves nothing but the best. His wife is a sweetheart and they both looked great on their big day. But, why does it bother me that they got married? I mean don’t have feelings for him. I really just think it’s because I want that. I want to get married to my perfect someone and have a house and be established in life. This is how my week started.

Why is this stuff bothering me? When logically, I know to trust in God. I know that His plans are greater. I know I’m on my own journey and things will happen in it’s own time. I know they will, they always have. Sooo.. Why am I still upset over it? Of course, it really doesn’t help that the guy I like doesn’t care for me, that the job I want isn’t happening, that I feel stuck in life… etc.

I write this to remind myself to TRUST. One of the things I struggle with the most in life. But I know God knows what He’s doing. If it’s His will, the guy I like will be interested in me (I mean were pretty much perfect for each other soo likee…) But even if he doesn’t, one day I’m believing that the right someone will. Until then, I know I am to continue to pursue the heart of God because it is only in God that my future husband will find me. Also, I know the right job will appear, because what’s presented to me right now is stressing me out and not ideal. I know I’ll be able to move out one day, even know I really want to move out now.

This is my note to self and to anyone who may read this. Stop psyching yourself out with people on social media. Social media is not real life, it’s nothing worth being upset over. Delete the apps forever, if it’s better for your mental health. Your day will come to be a relationship. Enjoy your single hood. Your day will come to work at the right job. Enjoy the days you have off, deal with the crappy job. Your day will come to move out. Save up while you can. Just wait patiently. Trust wholeheartedly. God knows you, He loves you, and He has your wellbeing in mind at all times.

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GOLD out of garbage

I find myself in this place often. I’ve been here for most of my life, for as long as I can remember.

Angry. Hurt. Upset. Unsafe. Angry. Exploited. Angry. Angry. Angry.

I’ve written him an open letter once before. I frequently go back revise and re-edit according to how I’m feeling lately. i may even update it according to how I’m feeling recently. I never have the courage to write the things that’s actually happen though.

But really- it’s sad that things even still happen on the continuous basis. When will this end? When will this fear end? When will I go to bed feeling comfortable in my own house, feeling safe in my own skin?

I used to think I could grow out of all this. That it was temporary. That maybe when I was older things would get better. Tow silly of me. Things are only getting worse. I got the news today that my mom was leaving again. We all know how that went last time.

I feel stuck – not financially ready to live on my own but in desperate need to leave this house. Should I feel guilty for leaving my sister behind? I kind of do, although I know I shouldn’t. This isn’t about being considerate, this is survival.

I know this is just my life, my unfortunate circumstance. I just wish things were different. I envy people who have healthy relationships with their dad, but it also freaks me out. I’ve been conditioned to think that no biological dad is worthwhile. Of course, I’ve dreamt of being walked down the aisle and of my future kids having a good grandfather, but none of that is worth any attempt at a relationship with him. forgiveness is different from reconciliation. If I’m being honest, my only wish is that my mom believed me and stood by my side protecting me.

I don’t have the willpower to talk about anything that happens at home with anyone anymore. I use to talk about it, but now I just end up bottling it all up (I know that’s bad). Only because truthfully, not one person listening or saying “wow that sucks, I’m sorry” will make me feel better. It won’t change my circumstances. It would never even come close to having my mom validate my feelings – I think that may be the only thing that makes me feel better right now. So, I feel worse when I try to talk things out. I’m only reminded about how I should feel safe, and how these things are not ok. So really what’s the point? I’d rather just keep it all to myself and deal with my reality as is.

All in all, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live here. I can’t fight this fight. I can’t pretend. I need to run, but I have no place to go. I’m drowning and my lungs are running out of air. No one see this, no one can know anything. How I long to escape this place and make a name for myself. To tell the world that I made it, despite it all.

How thankful I am to have a Father that loves me unconditionally and would never hurt me. He has made me his precious daughter and looks at me like a jewel in His crown. I’ve always struggled to see my God as my Father, because I struggle with my earthly father. But man do I know my Heavenly Father’s radical and raging love for me surpasses all of my heartache. He has been healing my wounds and working to bind up my broken heart in ways I could have never imagined. It’s painful, but growth typically is.

My circumstances are still the same. I still feel trapped. I still feel like I’m drowning and that I want to run away. I’m still hurt, angry, upset, etc. and still have a need to be validated and believed. Everything I said still stands true. But I know my Dad is up to something. He loves me too much to allow me to go through everything without any reason. He is going to make something beautiful out of this one day, He’s going to make some gold out of all this garbage, I’m believing for it. 


Vagina is not a bad word

I’m in an interesting situation. I’m thankful to be surrounded by people (both men and women), by pure convenience (thank you school of social work), that are feminists. Not the misandrists/don’t shave armpits (not that there’s anything wrong with not shaving) /hating life type feminists, but the kind that are truly for women and their empowerment.

I’m privileged in my everyday to think that everyone is like this. To think that everyone thinks like I do and wants women to be treated fairly, payed equally and to rise up. Now, don’t get me wrong, I know God created men and women very differently and they should embrace those differences. Men and women should compliment each other, in that aspect. But in our society, things are not seen that way. There is far too much injustice.

This new health care reform gets me angry on a whole other level. I am a pre-existing condition. I don’t even have to list the things that qualify me, it’s multiple, but truth is, everyone has at least one thing on that damn list. So. Thank you to America’s leaders. For saying that if a woman wants to have a baby, she might not have health care. And if a woman has been raped/sexually assaulted she is deemed unworthy of help. For saying that if any sexual assault did happen and she is traumatized/dealing with any mental illness, she can’t seek help. For allowing someone with a mental illness to buy a gun, but not have access to health care. ETC. ETC. ETC. ETC. ETC.

A colleague of mine was offered a job recently and made sure to tell me that the company wanted a bilingual male. However, he told me that with my experience, and that I’m bilingual, I’m far more qualified. He got the job though, because he’s male. Thank you for that. In a field that is majority women, it means I’m going to have a hard time finding a job – even if I’m better qualified.

Do you feel my anger bubbling up? 

What does it mean to be a woman? I sat through the Vagina Monologues recently and dang was I inspired. I got so emotional because so much of it resonated with me. And I kept thinking about the people in my life and how outside those four walls, that play would NEVER be acceptable. A lot of it made me uncomfortable, but all of it is what it meant to be a woman. I was reminded to love myself, love my womanhood and to stand up for my sisters. And also – that vagina is not a bad word.

This day and age, to be a woman means that socially, your value, worth  and beauty is based solely upon your looks. You are catcalled, disrespected and sadly 1 in 4 women are sexually assaulted. But somehow it is still you’re fault is something happens to you because “of what you wore” or something ridiculous. IF prosecuted, 95% of predators will not be convicted.

It means that if you are white, you’ll get paid 78 cents to every white male dollar. But if you are black or latino you’ll get paid 58 cents to every white male dollar. Keep in mind though, you may be bilingual which may make you more qualified for a job. BUT you won’t be compensated for it so like who cares 🙂

It means that you’ll be bleeding for a week every month only to be taxed on women’s hygiene products, as if they’re not a necessity. And to be charged more for your razor because it’s pink. Also- God forbid you’re legs are stubbly! How dare you! Are you yelling? It’s probably your PMS. Women can’t possibly get angry at something worth getting angry about.

It means you wait for a guy to notice you and to pursue you. You’ll then stand by his side as a support, being the submissive wife. It might also mean he’ll pursue you then ghost you. Either way, you’re the “lady in waiting.”

I’ve been thinking about that last one a lot. Being that I am in that “waiting season,” I’m not sure if it it frustrates me or what. Why is it do I feel unworthy if a guy doesn’t notice me? I know that’s a total lie and very dumb of me to believe but it sometimes it really bothers me. Like am I not cute enough? Did you hear something about me? Do I have something in my teeth? WHAT IS IT

I pray for a guy that pursues me like no other and reaches all my standards. That most importantly values my worth as a woman. That together, in our different scopes of life, we’ll stand up for the injustices of this world.


(Emma Watson killin it)

Alexandria Stone,




I base a lot of life off the way I feel. I let my emotions take a hold of me. I know I shouldn’t, but sometimes I do it without noticing. And sometimes, I just feel things. I get vibes: about situations, about things and even about people.

Thats the N.


Sometimes I’m able to connect with someone without having to say much to them. My spirit connects to their’s and I just love that person. I feel their energy, their experiences and even their pain. I ignore it a lot, because it’s weird and uncomfortable. I say this often, but it’s a blessing and a curse: to feel so deeply.

Never in my life had I been able to connect with someone to like I have her before. Never have I been poured into so much, while I said so little. There was never technically a personal connection, but such a deep emotional one. One where I know my life has been impacted forever.

This one goes out to you, Jackie –

It was my first semester of grad school, I didn’t know what to expect. I was scared, but then I walked into your classroom. I had you as my professor for the first time in diversity &oppression. You made the class fun, but spoke on such deep topics that permeated my soul and made me think so deeply about what it meant to be who I am today. What it meant to be where I’m from. With such deep topics, such as racism and privilege, you provided a safe environment. You brought laughter and compassion into a classroom and made students feel safe to share their deepest pains. I sat in the back and observed. Little did I know you’d be someone I’d never forget.

I debated on taking you again next semester. Did I really want you to teach me psychopathology? You’re kind of nuts, and you know it. I took a chance, I took your class. It was the best decision I could have made. Because of you, I’m confident in diagnosing and treating. No one else in the program knows their stuff like like the people who took your class. You were strict in this class, but you did it with love and humor. Making me laugh so hard with each role play every time as you dance and always say your alternate ego’s name is “Alexandria Stone.”

It was during that time that it felt as if my life turned upside down. Little did I know that yours was too. Your husband was just diagnosed with cancer. And everything from my childhood/adolescence was coming up. We all know that social work school will bring out the worst in you. It’ll force you to work through your own issues. Typically, if I have to cry, I’ll cry silently in class. I did that in your class. The topics of that one day hit me hard. You didn’t brush it away and ignore it like maybe any other professor would. You stayed after class and asked me to join you. You felt there was too much going on with me to be ignored. You sat with me as I shared my story. You cried with me and held me.

Maybe you cried because your own personal life was falling apart. Maybe you’ve done this before with other students. But no one have ever done that with me. I’ve never felt safe enough to share my story like that. Some people know bits and pieces, but no one knows all of it. I don’t trust people enough. It meant the world to me that my story hurt your heart enough to bring you to tears. That you would sit there and hold me as I cried. And like I said, maybe you do that all the time. But you were the first person that ever told me that it wasn’t my fault. That I didn’t deserve it. That you understood why I am the way I am today. You encouraged me and gave me advice.

I’ve never heard any of that before. You would think I would? But on the contrary, I’ve heard opposite things that has made my heart closed off to people in general. Yet, you supported me and you called me strong. You said all the right things.

I was excited to take spirituality and social work with you. I know you’re a strong, spiritual woman but I was interested to see how you’d teach a curriculum on that. You exceeded my expectations. You stood your ground and let everyone know “I’m a black christian woman from the south” quoting the bible left and right. However, you were inclusive and understanding extending compassion to students of all religions and spiritual backgrounds.

In response to an assignment using the meaning of our name. Nicole, meaning victory of the people:

“You are a star. I admire your ability to love beyond your pain. You use it to fight for others, but you fight with love. You are your name.”

You always have a sense of things. You knew when I was having a bad day and you called me out on it, speaking words of encouragement and hope into my life in front of everyone. You did this even without knowing it. When feeling suicidal the night before, the next morning you taught on suicide and spoke life into my life. You knew just what to say when addressing love, abuse, relationships, death and life. You wrote endless notes on all my papers, saying how you admired my strength and my faith in God. When in reality, it’s yours I admired.

I gave you my favorite book in our last class. I hope you love it as much as I do. I wrote a little on the inside cover, but words cannot express my gratitude towards all that you are. You gave me so many hugs. Reminding me to find people who love me, who respect me and who care for my safety. You told me to keep fighting with a heart full of love for myself and for others. I took the flower you gave me and withIMG_1175 tears in my eyes I left our last class together, keeping your words close to my heart forever.
You have made an everlasting impact on my life. My grad school experience would be nothing with out you. Thank you for believing in me and providing
me with safety. Thank you for teaching not only with your brain, but most importantly, with your heart. There is no possible monetary compensation for that. I admire you and look to be like you.

Jackie Phillips, you are a world changer.