Week 14: Sorting, Stillness, and Surrender
Lord,
This week has been… a week.
It seems like that’s becoming a running theme in these Life Lately entries.
Heavy.
But this one?
This week felt like the process of offloading. Like when you wake up one morning ready to clean and organize your space, and halfway through—everything’s everywhere. You didn’t anticipate the mess. You didn’t expect to feel so buried by it. You didn’t know how many drawers you’d have to open, how many pieces you’d need to sort, how many bags you’d carry out, and what little you’d actually keep.
That’s where I’ve been—in the middle of the mess.
Sorting.
Releasing.
Holding.
Letting go of what no longer serves my relationship with You, and choosing to keep what bears fruit.
And I’ve cried.
Not just from sadness—but from surrender. From joy. From reflection. From clarity. I’m realizing now that being emotional doesn’t make me weak. It makes me alive. It makes me someone who feels and You made me that way.
This week left a trail of tears from Monday to Sunday. I cried over my job. Over burnout. Over the thought that this might not be it. I cried because I’m tired of people believing they own my time—when it belongs to You. You are the Keeper of my time. You are the One I report to.
Not a boss.
Not a company.
Not a system that forgets they are working with souls, not numbers. This isn’t about money to me. It’s about heart. And when I feel like I’m one of the few showing up with heart—it gets heavy. So I asked for space. Not to give up. But to make room for You to work on me. Because I love Your people, but they can be heavy. And I care too much to do this halfway.
Lord, I feel like You’re stretching me.
Teaching me.
Pruning me.
Preparing me.
Maybe for a new season. Maybe for my calling. Maybe for a future family. Or maybe for something I can’t even name yet. But even if none of that comes—If all I get is more of You—Then that has to be enough.
And You are.
And somewhere between the sorting and the stillness,I saw her—My grandmother, sitting with her green puzzle board in her lap.
Focused. Still. Doing something simple. And that image of her has stayed with me for years.
Because in that moment, she looked like peace and maybe she had her own worries. Maybe she was using the puzzle to calm her own storm. But to me, she was stillness.
I’ve seen peace before— Not in perfection, but in presence.
And that’s what I’ve been craving. Not the kind of peace the world sells. Not peace that waits on the perfect career, or relationship, or place. But peace that comes from You.
Peace that sits in the middle of the mess and says,
“I’m still here.”
Because You never asked me to be perfect and I don’t know why I ever believed that I had to get cleaned up before I could be close to You.
That’s not You.
You never asked me to dress it up for You or decorate the pain. You’ve only ever asked for my presence. You’ve only ever wanted my willingness.
I may not know every verse by heart, but I know how to talk to You. I know how to seek You. I know how to build with You—brick by brick, prayer by prayer.
So I’m here.
In my robe.
Still sorting.
Still organizing.
Still letting go.
Still trusting.
You never asked me to perform.
You just asked me to come. So I’m coming— Tired. Emotional. Heavy. Open. Willing.
This season is heavy. And maybe that’s just the theme right now. Maybe every entry reads that way because that’s the truth of this part of my walk. But even so—I’m still coming to You.
I’m coming with everything I’ve got. I’m coming with my tears, my fatigue, my frustration, my care, my heart. I’m not showing up polished. I’m showing up present.
I’m coming to lay it all down at Your feet.
To be still.
To listen.
To learn.
To let You be enough.
And in that surrender,
there is peace.
What I’m Learning
That peace isn’t a vision board.
That I’m not too much for God.
That God is the steward of my time, not man.
That peace isn’t the absence of thought—it’s the presence of God
That caring deeply is not a weakness, it’s a reflection of His Heart.
That God doesn’t ask me to come perfect—He asks me to come. Even in my brokenness. Without shame.
What Faith is Showing Me
“The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still".” — Exodus 14:14
What I’m Working On
Being still.
Surrendering.
What I’m Listening To/Consuming
Phillip Anthony Mitchell - sermons that cut straight to the soul
House of David (TV Show)
Forrest Frank - Your Way’s Better (Song)
Alex Warren - Ordinary (Song)
Maverick City Music, Jordin Sparks - Constant
What I’m Building
More boundaries—at work, more still mornings, more margin for grace.
A deeper prayer life.
A voice that’s more rooted than reactive.
Healthier habits in all aspects of my being
A life that’s built step by step, not all at once.
What’s Coming Up
More stillness, even if life stays loud
More honest conversations with God
Some resting and some vacations