“Finding Peace”

Today’s church sermon was interesting to say the least.

It wasn’t the usual setup — it almost felt like a podcast, with all the teaching pastors gathered together, talking about the Bible, beliefs, and life in a way that was so real, raw, and relatable.

And I loved it.

It wasn’t scripted or polished — it was simply honest conversation about God. About faith. About living life with Him, not just talking about Him.

It brought me back to memories of my past — growing up in the Catholic Church, attending Mass every Sunday, checking the box but never feeling completely connected.

I remembered a pivotal moment in my life: a church retreat in Big Bear, California.

Seven days in the mountains.

Seven days where I thought I was just showing up to show up… but halfway through, I found something much deeper.

One day during that retreat, we were asked to do something simple yet profound:

Go outside.

Far away from everyone.

Sit in complete silence.

No music. No distractions. No one talking.

Just me, the wind, the sound of planes soaring above, and God.

I sat in that silence for 40 minutes — and something shifted.

For the first time in a long time, I saw a vision of a beautiful life for myself.

I didn’t feel confused or stuck.

I just felt… free. Hopeful.

It was a pure God moment.

One that, even though I lost touch with shortly after, never really left my heart.

Fast forward to today — sitting in the Rock Church, I felt that same spark reignite.

That same reminder of vulnerability, peace, and finding my way back to faith.

And even though I live with Bipolar II and wrestle with the ups and downs that so often nobody else sees — deep inside, I realized something simple but powerful:

I am a child of God.

I am not forgotten.

I am not broken beyond repair.

And life is going to be okay.

One song today hit me like a tidal wave.

The words: “Get up and praise the Lord.”

It’s so simple, but it’s everything.

In a world where we idolize celebrities, influencers, and even people in our own lives, we sometimes forget —

Those people are human too.

They’re not perfect.

They can inspire us, sure. But they can’t save us.

They can’t be our source of peace.

God can.

God does.

Every single day, whether we realize it or not.

And when I pray — really pray — not just a quick list of wishes, but a deep conversation with God, something changes inside of me.

It’s like the storm in my mind settles.

The heavy pressure in my chest lifts.

The chaos starts to quiet.

Prayer isn’t just something I “should” do — it’s my connection back to peace.

When I talk to God — even if it’s messy, even if I don’t have the perfect words — I’m reminded that I don’t have to figure everything out on my own.

I can surrender the weight I’m carrying.

I can lay down my pride, my confusion, my fear.

I can open my hands and say, “God, I trust You with this.”

And He listens.

He responds — sometimes not in loud ways, but in the small, steady moments where suddenly, I find enough strength to keep going.

I’ve come to learn that prayer brings clarity when life feels foggy.

It brings comfort when everything feels cold and distant.

It brings courage when I’m too tired to keep trying.

Through prayer, I’m not just asking for things —

I’m asking for His peace, the peace that doesn’t make sense to the world, but makes all the difference in my heart.

Today I remembered that it’s okay to fall apart sometimes.

It’s okay to be vulnerable.

It’s okay to not have it all together.

Because faith isn’t about being perfect — it’s about showing up, broken pieces and all, and trusting that God can do something beautiful with them.

Living with Bipolar II, PTSD, and the struggles that often stay hidden behind a smile — it’s not easy.

Some days are harder than others.

But moments like today remind me that no matter what I face internally, I’m never facing it alone.

I know now that vulnerability is strength.

Faith is a daily choice.

Prayer is a lifeline.

And hope — even if it feels fragile sometimes — is a lifeline that never really breaks.

Today wasn’t just another church service.

It was another piece of the foundation I’m building my life upon —

A life of hope.

A life of purpose.

A life with God at the center.

If you’re reading this and you’re struggling —

If you feel disconnected, lost, numb, or just tired —

Please know:

You are not alone.

God still has a plan for you.

Even in the silence, even in the pain, even in the confusion — He’s still working.

And sometimes, the greatest healing begins in those quiet moments when we finally stop, pray, listen, and let Him in.