This Seat’s Been Waiting for You

This page isn’t here to convince you of anything. It’s your seat at the table, Earthling—where we get real.
This isn’t your grandma’s grief support (though she’s welcome too). We cry when we need to, laugh when we can, and call baloney on toxic positivity.

Faith is my anchor—but even if yours feels like driftwood right now, there’s room here for all of you. If you’re ready—or even just curious—here are a few ways we can walk this road together.

The Harvest Path

This isn’t a bootcamp or a timeline.

It’s a seasonal, heart-filled process—one gentle step at a time. We’ll look at the roots of your story, honor what was, and make room for what could be.

Some days you want Scripture.
Some days you want silence.

Some days you want to eat ice cream in your pj’s.
All I ask is this: follow what feels kind to your soul today.

Start with a Quiet Step

Next Step Nurturing

Some women just need a little more room to breathe—and a voice that knows what it’s like to cry in the car, pray in the pantry, or wonder if you’re still “normal.”

Still Held: At the Kitchen Table is my private podcast for Earthlings who want deeper stories, quieter prayers, and real companionship—without having to raise their hand or make small talk.

You don’t need to be ready for everything.

Just press play. I’ll meet you where you are.

Take the Next Step

The Back Porch

This is where the unfiltered conversations happen—the ones where you can admit you’ve been mad at God and that you ugly-cried in aisle seven over a box of cereal.

If you’re craving steady, no-fluff support from someone who gets it, I offer gentle 1:1 mentoring.

We’ll meet weekly (yes, pajama pants are allowed), map out small, doable steps, and I’ll check in between sessions—because some days you need a “you’re doing better than you think” text more than another to-do list.
It’s porch swing support with heart, humor, and a whole lot of grace.

Let’s Talk

It's okay, Earthling. Just send me a note.

Sometimes the bravest first step isn’t clicking a button—it’s simply saying, “I’m here.”
Reach Out

Stories from the Porch

Mini reflections, tender insights, and gentle guidance — shared like letters between old friends.

The Table Felt Too Big

I remember setting one plate for dinner and realizing I didn’t know how to cook for just me.

Everything felt too quiet. Too big. Too empty.

That night I ate cereal and cried into the bowl - because no one prepares you for the loneliness of Tuesday night leftovers.

But the next night… I lit a candle.

And the night after that… I sat down and said grace - even though it felt hollow at first.

Healing didn’t arrive in grand gestures.

It came one awkward, ordinary dinner at a time.

When Hope Was Just a Whisper

There was a season I stopped praying - not out of rebellion, just… weariness.

But one morning, I sat down with hot chocolate and opened my Bible, not expecting anything.

And the verse staring back at me said:

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord,
“plans to prosper you and not to harm you,
plans to give you hope and a future.”
— Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

Hope didn’t arrive with fireworks.

It showed up like sunlight through the kitchen window - quiet, but real.

You’re not broken. You’re becoming.

If your heart needs space to breathe, you're in good company.
Let’s stay in touch — no pressure, just warmth.

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