There Is More

“I’m alive… because there’s more.”

I want to start by saying that I almost did not make it.

There have been seasons in my life where facing hell head on felt like death was standing on the other side of my door whispering that it would all be easier if I simply was not here.

No more struggling.
No more carrying.
No more grieving.
No more surviving.

But God.

God has always been on the inside reminding me that I am loved. I am safe. I am supported.

Reminding me that even though life may feel hard, difficult, heavy, and dark, there is still more for me to do if I am still breathing.

And somehow, if I can just breathe, joy finds its way back to me.

If I can just tell God “thank you” for something, suddenly the weight does not feel quite as daunting.

That does not mean my smile is fake.

I actually believe my smile is a reflection of God’s glory.

I am grateful that I do not look like what I have been through.

And I am even more grateful that somehow I can appear like all is well while privately conquering battles people may never see.

Some of us are graduating internally every single day.

From faith to faith.
From glory to glory.
From survival to surrender.
From fear to trust.

And I give God the credit for every detail in my story.

Graduation Beyond the Stage

Graduation season always makes us pause.

Not just because someone passed a class, earned a degree, finished a grade, or walked across a stage, but because graduation reminds us that life is full of endings that are really beginnings.

Passing a class.
Passing a test.
Passing a grade.
Earning a degree.
Saying “I do.”
Signing a contract.
Saying goodbye.
Starting over.
Letting go.
Beginning again.

It is all part of the never ending flow of life.

As long as we are breathing, there is more.

The truth is, many of us spend our lives chasing arrival points, only to realize life keeps moving after every milestone.

The moment we prayed for eventually becomes the moment we must learn how to carry.

The finish line becomes another starting point.

And maybe that is what makes life both beautiful and difficult.

Change Is Hard on the Brain

Human beings crave certainty, even when certainty is hurting us.

The brain naturally wants patterns, predictability, familiarity, and control.

Change disrupts all of that. Even good change can create stress inside the body because growth requires adaptation.

That is why graduation feels emotional.

That is why moving feels emotional.

That is why endings feel emotional.

That is why healing feels emotional.

The brain has to release what it knows before it can fully embrace what is next.

And sometimes we confuse discomfort with failure, when discomfort is often proof that transformation is happening.

Learning itself is difficult.

Every single thing that is easy to us now was once hard.

Reading was hard.
Driving was hard.
Boundaries were hard.
Speaking up was hard.
Walking away was hard.
Forgiving was hard.
Starting over was hard.

At one point, we struggled with things we now do naturally.

That matters.

Because many people are currently surviving moments they believe they will never overcome, while standing in the middle of storms they do not yet realize they are strong enough to survive.

But somehow, humanity keeps surviving.

Perspective Is a Superpower

Some of the hardest days of our lives have already happened.

And we are still here.

That alone should teach us something.

Perspective does not erase pain, but it changes how we carry it.

Some people survived divorce.
Some survived grief.
Some survived addiction.
Some survived betrayal.
Some survived depression.
Some survived losing people they thought they could not live without.

Some people even tried to leave this world themselves and still woke up to another morning.

There is something deeply humbling about realizing life kept calling your name even when you wanted to disappear.

Some people surrender to their emotions and go mad.

Some people get mad at the world, at life, at waiting, at suffering, at change.

But I am learning there is a difference between surrendering to emotion and surrendering to Christ.

One leaves you consumed by waves.

The other teaches you how to walk through them.

That is the only standard.

Not comparison.

Not status.

Not money.

Not followers.

Not who is doing worse than us.

We are not supposed to compare ourselves to the worst just to feel better about our lives.

We are supposed to look to the hills.

We are supposed to keep our eyes upward.

Even the clouds remind me to keep my head up.

To remember there is something bigger than me.

Someone bigger than me.

Jesus.

Because true surrender is not giving up.

True surrender is acceptance.

Acceptance that seasons end.

Acceptance that people change.

Acceptance that grief is real.

Acceptance that life keeps moving with or without our permission.

And strangely enough, acceptance creates peace.

Grieving Gratefully Daily

I teach my daughter that happiness is fleeting, but joy is lasting.

And I am not the keeper of her joy.

Happiness comes and goes with moments, outcomes, circumstances, and emotions. But joy is deeper.

Joy is rooted in gratitude. It is found in perspective. It is found in presence.

There are people at Disney World upset about standing in line while someone else is praying for the opportunity to be there at all.

That does not make their feelings fake.

That does not mean discomfort is not real.

It is simply my way of saying:

Look around.
Enjoy the moment.
Take it in.

Because it will all be gone after a while.

Tomorrow is not promised.

So why not enjoy today?

Why not smile?

Why not love on the people around you?

In 100 years, every single one of us will be gone.

And in the end, all that will matter is what truly mattered all along:

Love.
Hope.
Faith.

So let us love more.

Let us never lose hope.

And let faith anchor us deeply enough that joy always has somewhere to return.

I do not believe grief simply visits us.

I believe grief lives here with us.

Not to destroy us.
Not to consume us.
But to remind us that we loved, that we lost, that we survived, and that we are still becoming.

Some people spend their entire lives trying to outrun grief, numb grief, hide grief, or silence grief.

But grief is not always something to escape.

Sometimes grief is love with nowhere to go.

Sometimes grief is evidence that something mattered deeply to us.

I do not believe healing means grief disappears.

I believe healing means we learn how to live alongside it without allowing it to harden us.

Grieving gratefully daily.

Because even on my happiest days, grief is still there.

Not always loudly.
Not always painfully.
But present.

Living beside joy.
Living beside laughter.
Living beside gratitude.
Living beside faith.

And maybe that is part of dying daily.

Learning how to surrender every version of ourselves that believes pain automatically means God has abandoned us.

Learning how to keep loving while grieving.

Learning how to keep hoping while grieving.

Learning how to keep living while grieving.

Because life requires death in many forms.

The death of old versions of ourselves.
The death of expectations.
The death of relationships.
The death of pride.
The death of control.
The death of who we thought we would be.

Scripture says we must die daily.

And maybe maturity is realizing that surrender is not the absence of grief.

It is learning how to let grief coexist with gratitude without allowing bitterness to take over.

Joy and grief can coexist.

Laughter and longing can coexist.

Healing and heartbreak can coexist.

That is part of being human.

Even on the days we smile the biggest, there are still memories, people, versions of ourselves, and moments we quietly carry with us.

Grief may live here.

But so does faith.

So does hope.

So does joy.

And as long as Christ remains at the center, grief does not get the final word.

What Will You Do With Today?

I am thankful for free will.

And I am even more grateful for alignment.

Because God has always been in control.

He has been since the beginning of time.

And I will serve Him for all the days of my life because I truly believe what the Devil is after is something he will never have:

True peace.
True joy.
True love.
True belonging in the Kingdom of God.
The opportunity to stand fully in the light.

So as we pass through life earning and learning, achieving and becoming, let us never forget to ask ourselves:

Who are we really fighting for?

Man?
Ourselves?
Or the Kingdom of Light?

There is no such thing as neutral on a moving train.

And if you are breathing, you better believe the clock is ticking.

Tomorrow is never promised.

So what will you do with today?