A Season of Silence, A Journey of Strength: Waiting on God in the Wilderness

Trigger Warning: this post contains photos of messages that were sent to me that maybe distressing and vulgar to some readers. Please take caution while reading, and feel free to skip past those pictures.

Last year, I heard God very clearly in my spirit, telling me I was entering a season of privacy—to remain in Him. It began with my first pregnancy. I’ve mentioned it in previous blogs, but I’ve watched Him cover and keep my family like never before. And believe me, we’ve been through some things.

One thing I know about keeping your peace is that the enemy will always try to destroy it. That’s his job—to kill, steal, and destroy. My Dad rapped about it often, and my Husband reminds me of it every time we hit a snare. Yet somehow, when I’m in these seasons, I forget just how strong the enemy’s attacks can be.

The Isolation & Transformation

Isolation has been both a refuge and a challenge. There were times I felt the urge to explain myself, check in, or prove something—but I knew from experience it wasn’t worth it. Not everyone understands how God transforms us in isolation.

While my prayers have been for community, healing, and the release of strongholds on my family, I had to accept that not everyone shares that agenda. That realization meant I had work to do—deep spiritual and mental work.

Before this season of privacy, my social media was in professional mode. I was open, sharing everything. My engagement via views was high, but actual interaction? Low. I felt watched, not supported.

That realization unsettled me. I could see how being silently observed was affecting my family in negative ways. Even more, I was hurt by the lack of support from people I once thought cared. I knew it was best to stop sharing important parts of my life with those who didn’t truly value my well-being. By the end of my pregnancy, I combed through my social media, turned off professional mode, and focused on being present. I didn’t delete much, but I adjusted what I saw and who I engaged with. As a new mom, I simply don’t have the space or time to interact as I once did.

Stepping Away from Social Media

For me, social media has never been about validation. I can count on one hand the number of people who would genuinely be affected by my absence. So locking in with God and stepping into this new season seemed like it would be easy—or so I thought.

But it wasn’t just about stepping away from the noise. My relationships had to pause. Things I once enjoyed watching and listening to had to stop. I have inboxes full of unread messages. The attention I was getting wasn’t the love I desired. And I knew I couldn’t rush the work God was doing in this season.

I completely stopped sharing certain aspects of my life, and though I wouldn’t say I was dependent on social media, I recognized that it was taking time away from what truly mattered.

The Distraction

Fast forward—I’m posting less, limiting my engagement, checking in with only a handful of my community, and truly enjoying motherhood and pregnancy. Blogging has been the icing on cake for maintaining my peace.

Then one night, I checked my messages...I saw one from a relative I hadn’t spoken to in years. Given my grandmother’s recent transition, I assumed it was about that. But as I began reading, shock washed over me. By the third paragraph, the words blurred. Sharing these messages is my personal catharsis.

 

A few years ago, my response to something like this would have been different—probably damaging for both of us. The enemy used to eat me up with words. I would internalize something like this and let it destroy me and those around me. But this time, I knew I had done nothing to warrant such an attack.

Out of pure emotion, I responded. It was knee-jerk, and honestly, I wish I hadn’t said anything at all. Those messages didn’t deserve a response. I was angry and hurt—not just by the assumptions made about me, but because my family had become collateral damage in someone else’s pain.

And just as I chose not to explain myself in response to those messages, I won’t do it here either.

If you’ve read my previous blogs, you know this space is honest. It’s not perfect, it’s not terrible—it’s just my truth. I understand that not everyone will like or understand it, and that’s okay. This blog is for me, with the prayer that in some way, it will help someone else.

Grief & Growth

The very next day, I received the official news that my grandmother had passed.

The weight of everything hit my family hard. My husband—my strongest support—had his own mental load, and I hated adding to it. But I’ve learned that when I’m struggling, the people I trust need to know. I want to take a moment to thank my Husband, my mom, and my brother Bradley, who were immediately and continuously supportive.

It took a full day before I could see past those hurtful words and recognize that they came from a wounded place. But that day was filled with moping, crying out loud, asking God to remove the enemy from my life and home, and trusting Him to protect and avenge my family as He’s done before.

The Lesson in the Wilderness

So, why am I telling you all this?

Because I have spent my entire life protecting myself—not just from the world, but from my own “family.” And I’ve realized that the only way to lay down the burden of hate, anger, and revenge is through Him. Understanding that forgiveness is for you.

This season has brought vulnerability coupled with healing. It has taught me to forgive without an apology. To do the right thing even when the effort wasn’t reciprocated. To keep quiet when I had a mouthful of receipts. And in moments like this, to let go of the weight that doesn’t belong to me.

I also know that people are fully aware of what they do.

These are lessons I wish I had learned sooner, but everything happens in His timing. This is the seed I have to share with you.

While I won’t be at my grandmother’s funeral, I will find a way to celebrate her life and the love we shared. Without her, I wouldn’t be here. And beyond that, she gave me the greatest gift a girl could have—my Father. I’m thankful they will finally be reunited in heaven.

I know that healing doesn’t come without pain. Not everyone wants to see you whole. And being in relationship with God doesn’t make you untouchable—if anything, it makes you more of a target. People don’t always fill in the blanks with kindness, and that’s okay.

But what I can say from experience is this:

If you let Him, God will keep you, restore your strength, and transform your mind. You’ll worry less about how the world sees you and be thankful for who God has made you to be—who He says you are.

I’ve held strong to the fruits of the Spirit in this season—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

And despite what is said, thought, or cast against me…

I know who I am.