Tag: bible

Forgiveness Frees the Spirit – But the Rewire Takes Time

by Millie Lynne

(original published date: March 27, 2026)

The posture of the heart has been weighing heavily on me—especially over the past 18 months of trying to unravel the knots left behind by being hurt deeply. It’s felt like untangling a twisted pretzel, piece by piece.

And in that process, I have forgiven… but also learning how to forgive myself.

Because the truth is, the body doesn’t just forget once we forgive.

That part has been incredibly hard for me to accept. My spirit can make peace. I can lay it down at God’s feet. I can genuinely say I’ve forgiven. And yet, my nervous system still reacts.

And when it does, I feel guilty.

Like—if I’ve truly forgiven, why does my body still have a visceral need to defend itself? Why does it feel so exhausting—beyond physical or mental strain—to stand firmly where God has planted me, even when I have peace about His direction in my life?

Why does it sometimes bring me to my knees, crying in prayer, asking God to give me wisdom… to reassure me that I’ve made the right decisions, that I am still walking in obedience, that I am faithfully waiting on Him?

And even more than that—why is it so hard to stay quiet?

To let the noise of someone else’s voice, someone else’s opinion, become nothing more than background. To show love and kindness when everything in you wants to make them understand—really understand—the pain, the heartache, the neglect.

But this is the part no one really talks about.

There are many of us—sensitive souls—who have come to recognize God’s grace and mercy in giving us a second chance to do life with Him in the driver’s seat instead of the backseat. And sometimes, that calling looks like restraint.

It looks like choosing silence.

Letting people think what they want.

Responding with love when your heart is aching.

Holding back tears you so desperately want to cry.

To the empath reading this—you know exactly what I’m talking about.

And just like every quality we carry, being an empath has its weight. It’s easy to forget—even for a moment—that not everyone thinks like we do. Not everyone is sensitive to the needs, hurt, or pain of others.

To the Highly Sensitive Person—you feel this deeply. Down to the tears in your eyes. Down to the energy shift in a room before a word is even spoken. You can sense the storm before it arrives… and still be told to “just let it go,” as if your silence is expected while your feelings are dismissed.

And to the one who is both—empathetic, sensitive, and faithfully waiting on God, praying fervently and wondering when He will answer—

I get you.

I was reading Psalm 73, and God has such a way of meeting us exactly where we are through His Word.

If you haven’t read it in a while, go read it.

Asaph’s words felt almost too familiar. Looking at the world around him, questioning the injustice, the weight of it all, the way the wicked seem to prosper while everything feels so heavy for those trying to walk rightly.

And I could feel my heart racing as I read—because it felt so relevant.

But then… the shift.

“Nevertheless, I am continually with You;

You hold me by my right hand.

You guide me with Your counsel,

and afterward receive me to glory.”

And just like that, the reminder.

When everything feels loud, when the world feels heavy, when your heart feels stretched beyond what you think you can carry—He is still with you. He is still near.

“My flesh and my heart may fail,

 but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”

So let yourself feel it.

The pain.

The sadness.

The confusion.

It is okay to feel.

It is okay to process.

And do not let anyone make you feel guilty for that. More often than not, that discomfort belongs to them—not you. It’s their inability to sit with truth, not a flaw in your expression of it.

Ego flees when truth is present. Don’t forget that.

And protect that big, beautiful heart of yours.

Because God made you that way—on purpose.

You are not too much. You are not weak.

You are rare.

And even in the moments when you feel alone in it—He is holding you steady through it all.

From Happy Hour to Holy Hour

by Millie Lynne

(original published date: March 14, 2026)

For close to twenty years, “5 o’clock somewhere” was woven into the very fabric of my life. It governed my habits, my weekends, and—thanks to brunch—it often started well before noon. When I look back at that version of myself, she feels like a stranger. In many ways, she is dead.

But my spirit is alive in Christ Jesus.

That one truth has changed everything. My life is no longer an anxiety-riddled countdown to that first glass of wine. For almost four years now, I have been truly free from the chains of that “soulless liquid” that quenches no thirst.

It’s funny how your favorite times of day shift. Now? My favorite moments are the quiet bookends of sleep. I’m an early riser these days—usually by 5:00 AM, occasionally “sleeping in” until 5:15 AM—because I genuinely love my time with God.

After twenty-plus years of insomnia, I am finally experiencing the best sleep of my life (shoutout to my relationship with God and a little help from HRT!). I honestly didn’t know sleep like this existed. Looking back, I realize the insomnia wasn’t just the alcohol; it was the toxic—and frankly, evil—influences I allowed in my life.

I was surrounded by people who created the very anxiety they then mocked me for having. They told me I wasn’t a “true Christian” because I struggled with worry, all while they spent their time scolding and belittling me. That kind of toxicity can drive anyone to the bottle – and it did.

Restored and Protected

As of the 22nd of this month, I will be sober for three years and nine months. Since leaving a narcissistic, abusive relationship eighteen months ago, my rest has been a God-send.

He visits me in my sleep. Through dreams and visions, He has protected me and warned me. Sometimes I wake up saying, “What was that?”—which is just an invitation to pray for the discernment that only the Holy Spirit can provide.

A Lens of Truth

My routine is now anchored in the Word—in my Bible and my devotional—before I ever touch my phone in the morning. Tonight, as the world feels increasingly heavy with the ongoing news of war in the Middle East, I found myself drawn to Psalm 139. I ended up reading for hours.

I came across a note in the margins that struck a chord:

“We can look at our relationship with God through the lens of our culture, or we can look at our culture through the lens of God’s Word.”

To my brothers and sisters in Christ: let’s not forget to start and end our days with our Father. In a world of chaos, He is the one who holds us in His hands and watches over His people. He is the true thirst-quencher (John 4:14 “but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again”).

God Winks & God Blinks and the Confident Humility to Lead

by Millie Lynne

(original published date: February 22, 2026)

2026 is already in full flight as we are in February and I realized this past weekend that I haven’t written a blog in MONTHS!!! Five months to be exact. And honestly? I’ve been in one of those seasons where growth happens faster than you can process it. I stepped into a new role late last year – one where my experience matters, where I’m bringing real value to the table – but here’s the humbling truth: experience only gets you so far when you’re learning an entirely new landscape. The past 5+ months have been a masterclass in “you don’t know what you don’t know.” And instead of letting my ego protect me from that discomfort, I’ve had to show up every single day with what I’m calling confident humility – the willingness to be both capable AND teachable at the same time. That posture? It’s not natural for me. It requires intentional surrender when the anxiety bubbles up. It requires me to get excited about not knowing instead of threatened by it. And through all of this stretching – and trust me, being stretched isn’t for the faint of heart – I’ve learned to recognize a couple of things that have kept me anchored: God winks and God blinks.

God winks. Look, I swear I made this up but it’s taken flight, at least on BibleTok that has become my FYP, and “God winks” is spreading like fire. But regardless of whether I coined it or heard it elsewhere… it’s what a God wink represents that matters. When you develop a closeness in your walk with God, the relationship deepens. And I’ve always been a bit of a “signs” kind of girl my whole life. God winks are like little signs in your day… truly could be anything.

Like this morning. I’m in the middle of some serious spiritual warfare in my mind (aren’t we all in this evil world?) and my daily devotional this morning moved me to full-out crying on my knees before getting ready to start my day. Not a bad cry – a cry of absolute gratitude and HIM speaking to ME through my devotional. Like HE KNOWS. He knows the dream I had, He knows the thoughts in my head right at their inception before I have even had a moment to process my own thought. HE KNOWS. And there is something so incredibly beautiful about surrender and seeing God meet me this morning at 5:30 am right in my devotional.

I got up, got ready for work, and when I arrived at my desk, I was setting my backpack down and getting the handy dandy laptop out when a dove flew right onto the window ledge in that exact moment and just stared at me as I unpacked my laptop and things… for a solid 45 seconds. That is a God wink. He’s saying “See, I got you girl, now go be a warrior in your day!”

But it can really be anything. When there is clarity and spiritual alignment in your life, when you seek out a relationship with God and ask Him into every aspect of your life… the God winks become abundant. And you just know God is watching over you. And the peace… ohhh the peace. Regardless of the stress or pressure of work or society or family… HE is there and HE has a really good sense of humor… and the love.

God blinks. These actually have a little bit more of a personal journey and I think… I THINK, I am the only one who has ever uttered these. But you know how you can be out with a girlfriend, or maybe you’re married or in a long-term relationship and let’s say you’re in public, or in an uncomfortable situation where words aren’t appropriate but you’re trying to code to your loved one, or even a coworker or friend through the language of eyes… like “warning” or “Stop” or “DON’T go there” and you blink a little intentionally long so that they know you mean business?? THAT my friend is a God blink.

Look, I have been a Christian since I was 8 years old. Truly. I accepted Christ as my Lord and Savior and was baptized and understood what that meant. And yes, I have had a relationship with God since. No question about it. But, it was surface level. I can admit that. A lot happened to get me to where I am spiritually now, but this is a rebirth, a true 2nd chance. Coming up on some major milestones in my recovery journey – nearly 4 years sober and 18 months since God rescued me from a narcissistic abusive relationship.

As I grow deeper in my faith and continue to intentionally surrender when I feel the anxiety bubbling up, I can admit that there are a lot of things that I still hear, see or think and say to myself “this doesn’t feel right” or “yeah I am getting an uneasy feeling about that.” This is a God blink. For women, it’s the beautiful gift of intuition but Biblically it’s discernment. And the Lord has loaded me up.

I’ve done the work – real work – on healing from trauma. Anyone who has experienced childhood trauma, sexual, emotional, or physical abuse or neglect, narcissistic abuse that will leave you more twisted than a pretzel… this stuff takes TIME to allow your body and nervous system to rewire how you think. And as that healing happens, if you are having an intimate relationship with God in every aspect of your life… HE will give you those God blinks. And I promise, You. Will. Know.

I recently treated myself to a solo cruise for my birthday. We experienced a crazy ice storm that caused me to have to go slightly over budget and book a hotel the night before to drive down to the port a day early so I didn’t get stuck. As someone who refuses to drive in ice after some close calls, I found a hotel – $130/night, 3.8 stars on Priceline, skimmed the reviews and booked it.

When I arrived, there was a very dark energy from the older man checking me in and there was a man circling the lobby behind me with his phone out, like he had an active line listening, about 5-6 feet behind me… just circling the lobby… not talking, not doing anything other than walking around with his phone faced out and an active screen so you could see there was a call. When I checked in, I looked the reception guy in the eyes – void. Dark. Nothing there. I started to get an uneasy feeling but I tried to shrug it off saying, I am only going to bed, I will be out of here first thing in the morning.

Then he stated my full name out VERY loud and then my room number, which was on the first floor, right next to a side door to a very shady dark alley. Again, I tried to shrug it off… was feeling uneasy, especially after stating my whole name and room number so loudly and the other man just circling the lobby behind me – for the ladies who have traveled a lot solo, you know… we live by a different set of rules – hypervigilance is secondary nature to us.

I settled into my bed and about an hour later, was scrolling on TikTok and a guy I have been following for the past few months came across my fyp and it was a video of him simply stating “Get Up” – now for the everyday watcher, this was a video about motivating us to get up and start getting busy creating the life you want. But God knows me. HE knew I would take that video literally… and so I did just that. I got up.

And as soon as I started looking around the room, I realized I had no deadbolt as a secondary security lock. There was a latch but the deadbolt was missing… I immediately packed my stuff, went to the lobby, was told that was the only room available, spent the next hour in the lobby, in my pjs on the phone with Priceline getting me booked in another hotel. I get booked at a different hotel down the street and as I am walking to my car with my luggage, I see a truck 3 cars down from me, with their windows down (it was 35 degrees outside), engine off with 2 men just sitting in the truck staring at me.

That video… THAT whole experience was a series of GOD BLINKS. Ladies we have to learn to listen to that little voice, that nudge, that little burn you feel deep in your belly… that is GOD. Don’t ignore it. I truly believe it saved my life that night and 1000s of times before.

Here’s what I’m learning about confident humility in real time: it’s the thing that lets me walk into spaces where I have the most to learn and still show up with conviction about what I do know. It’s what helps me discern when someone’s resistance to me is actually about them, not me – because my presence requires honesty and some people’s presence requires ego. And ego always flees when truth enters the room.

I’ve watched people exit my life, and instead of spiraling into “what did I do wrong,” confident humility reminds me: when your intentions are pure, you don’t lose people; people lose you. That’s my spiritual MO for 2026. It keeps me from taking personally what God is actually pruning. Dead weight can’t be carried as you ascend, and He will bring the right people into your path when He knows you’re ready for them.

Until then? I’m showing up every day thanking Him for the pain. Thanking Him for the absolute anguish that got me here – coming up on 4 years sober this June, 18 months free from narcissistic abuse, healing a nervous system that needed rewiring after years of survival mode. My devotional said it perfectly the other day: “Though the storm rages in your soul, the healing rain that falls will soften the soil in which I will grow your faith.”

That’s where I’m living right now – in the softened soil, learning to lead with confident humility, and trusting that speaking my truth is simply letting Him work through me. I’m the vessel. And I’ve got so much more to learn, but knowing I’m walking in divine alignment? That makes waking up feel a whole lot brighter.

The Validation I Was Drinking For

by Millie Lynne

For most of my adult life, I lived in a culture that looked shiny and successful on the outside but left me empty on the inside. Everywhere I turned it was about appearances — bigger houses, fancier cars, constant consumption, and a need for validation that never seemed satisfied. At the time, I thought I was thriving. From the inside, it just looked like growth, opportunity, and fun. But now, looking back, I see how much of it was driven by pride, excess, and distraction.

Alcohol was a big part of that culture, and for years, it was a big part of my story. I drank to fit in, to quiet my nerves, and to feel like I belonged. I laughed it off as “just part of the scene,” but the truth is, I was numbing pain I didn’t know how to face — rejection, insecurity, and years of being told to “lighten up” or “stop being dramatic” when I expressed hurt. Drinking became my mask, and eventually I didn’t know who I was without it.

But God.

Three years ago, He pulled me out of that spiral. Sobriety hasn’t been easy, but it’s been the most freeing decision of my life. Without the haze of alcohol, I’ve been able to see myself clearly — and see how much of my striving was really just a search for validation. The kind of validation only God can give. “The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in His love He will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing” (Zephaniah 3:17).

Over the past year, I’ve been blessed with a season of healing and reflection. I’ve faced challenges — loneliness, family health scares, work changes, and personal trials — but I’ve also found community in unexpected places. God has surrounded me with people who encourage me, new friends who make me laugh, and even professional relationships that remind me that respect and kindness are possible without performance or pretense.

The biggest shift has been this: when I stopped chasing validation from others, God provided it Himself. He has shown me that I am enough because He says I am enough. And when He chooses to bless me — through opportunities, friendships, or small moments of joy — it’s often in ways I never could have imagined.

I’m not the same person I was a few years ago. And for that, I am deeply, humbly, and endlessly grateful.

Still Sober. Still Saved. Still Standing.

by Millie Lynne

(original publish date: April 27, 2025)

Five years divorced.

Three years sober.

Still Sober. Still Saved. Still Standing.

Some days I sit with those numbers and think, How did that much time pass? The divorce. The rock bottom. The surrender. The rebuilding. The transformation. All of it—just a blink ago in my mind.

And that’s when I started thinking about God’s timing.

We always hear things like, “God’s timing is perfect,” or “Be patient, He is working,” and we nod, smile, and try to wait. But waiting? Waiting can feel like silence. It can feel like nothing is happening. Like prayers are hitting the ceiling and falling right back down.

But what if that’s just our perception of time?

I read something recently about how time actually feels faster as we age. As children, our brains are still developing. Synapses take longer to fire. Time stretches out in slow motion. But as adults, those same neural pathways work faster, and our perception of time compresses. It’s not just nostalgia—it’s science. Our brains literally interpret time differently.

So if time is already slipping past us faster than we realize… imagine how time must look to God. He created time. He exists outside of it. To Him, our five-year heartbreak may feel like a blink. Our decade-long wilderness season? A pause between sentences.

The prayers we’ve been crying out for years might be in the process of being answered—we just can’t see it yet.

I used to pray for patience all the time. And I don’t mean in a peaceful, spiritual way—I mean in a Lord, don’t let me scream at this person in traffic way. Patience was not my gift. Growing up, I didn’t have the best model of emotional control. So I prayed.

And wouldn’t you know it… God answered.

Not with instant calm or a spa day or some magical peace.

He sent me a relationship that would stretch my patience (and sanity) to its limit—a relationship with a narcissistic ex (not my ex-husband). One that forced me to dig deep and find grace I didn’t know I had. I wouldn’t wish that experience on anyone, but I can say with certainty: it taught me more about patience, boundaries, and healing than anything else ever could.

And if I had still been drinking? I never would’ve made it out of it. Sobriety gave me the clarity and strength I needed to finally walk away. It gave me the backbone to start over and the peace to stay the course.

So when I say, Still Sober. Still Saved. Still Standing, know this:

I’m not standing because life has been easy.

I’m standing because I’ve learned how to get back up—again and again.

And maybe that’s what God’s timing is really about.

Not just the “when,” but the who we become while we wait.

Not just the miracle, but the muscle that forms in the silence.

Not just the outcome, but the character it builds in the meantime.

What feels like a delay may just be a divine blink.

So keep going.

Keep praying.

Stay sober.

Stay saved.

And keep standing.

The Two Words That Changed How I Pray

by Millie Lynne

Let me tell y’all about a moment I had once with a colleague — no names, no timestamps, no tea spilled (okay, maybe a little), but just know this person had a reputation for being… let’s say, a lot. 🙃

I mean, we’re talking about someone who made everything feel like a power struggle — constantly dominating conversations, lacking self-awareness, always needing the last word. The kind of personality that low-key makes you want to walk into meetings wearing spiritual armor.

One day, we got into it — and over what?

Not workload.

Not deadlines.

Not performance.

 Words.

Yup. One little word.

I had said something, and this colleague repeated it back — but changed one single word, which totally flipped the meaning. So I calmly pointed it out like,

“Hey, just so we’re clear, that’s not exactly what I said — the word you swapped changes the tone.”

And y’all, this person snapped.

Full eye-roll, loud voice, the whole performance:

“Ugh! Words don’t matter! You know what I meant!!”

And in my head I’m like:

“Clearly… they do matter. Otherwise we wouldn’t be in this very weird moment right now.”

That whole exchange got me thinking about how often we downplay the power of words — especially in everyday life. But lately? God has been showing me how much words matter in prayer.

I was born and raised in a deeply reverent home. Christ was at the center. Prayer was sacred. Grace was honored. And I’m grateful for that foundation — truly. But what I wasn’t taught… was that it’s okay to come to God with my needs.

Sure, I prayed for clarity throughout my life — in jobs, relationships, decisions. But when I think about the language I used, it was always:

“God, give me clarity.”

It was never:

“God, I need clarity.”

That small shift in words? Total game changer.

I’ve been thinking lately about how, even as an adult, when I would say I needed to pray for something, my dad would always respond:

“You should be thankful for what you have. Live in a constant state of gratitude for His grace.”

And while there’s beauty in that response, and truth in staying rooted in gratitude, it quietly taught me that maybe I shouldn’t ask God for help unless it was a crisis. That my day-to-day emotional and spiritual needs were… small. Petty. Inconvenient.

But Here’s What I Know Now:

Changing “God, give me clarity” to “God, I need clarity” is more than a language tweak.

It’s a spiritual shift.

“Give me” is a request.

“I need” is surrender.

“Give me” keeps some control.

“I need” says, I can’t do this without You.

It’s the difference between treating God like a resource and treating Him like your refuge.

At 44 years old, I’m just now learning how to truly surrender.

To stop filtering my prayers through what I think sounds “holy” and instead speak to God honestly. As a daughter. As a friend. As someone who is growing, struggling, and learning in real time.

These little moments — this clarity in motion — they remind me I’m getting closer to truly seeing His bigger picture for my life.

I’m not perfect, but I’m present.

And for now, that’s more than enough. 💛

When God Takes Away Your GPS – And Becomes the Map.

by Millie Lynne

(originally publsihed May 3, 2025)

It’s funny how God will sometimes strip away your visibility just so you’re forced to listen. Not watch. Not guess. Not panic. Just… listen.

We had driven into Houston to stay with dear family friends — the kind of people who feel like home. In the span of 48 hours, we were zigzagging across the city: navigating construction zones, rush hour chaos, 5 a.m. drop-offs at Bush, and my beloved grocery pilgrimage to Trader Joe’s (oh how I miss living fifteen minutes away).

But the emotional whiplash hit hardest on the way out, connect my phone as usual, and nothing but a blank screen on my dash screen. While I eventually got the Bluetooth connected, the display remained blank. No visual directions, no map, nothing but vibes. I could hear Siri, play Spotify, and also hear my dad — classic Boomer moment — arguing with Siri from the back seat, convinced he knew better. Meanwhile, my mom was riding shotgun, fully immersed in a medical podcast blaring on speaker from her phone, completely tuned out to the turmoil that surrounded her.

I was anxious. Sad. Overstimulated. Navigating unfamiliar roads in silence with precious cargo and a blank screen. But in that moment, something shifted: I stopped relying on what I could see and tuned into what I could hear.

I started listening for God. Not audibly, not in some cinematic voiceover, but in that quiet gut-level instinct that told me: keep going. You’re fine. You’re not lost. You’ll get home.

And I did.

Because lately? Life has felt exactly like that drive — like I’m being asked to move forward with no clear map.

But God doesn’t need a map. He is the map.

And sometimes the silence is not abandonment — it’s a sacred pause. It’s the preparation before the promise.

The sermon this week — Killing It In Silence — echoed that same truth. Just because no one sees the progress doesn’t mean the breakthrough isn’t coming. Just because you’re quiet doesn’t mean you’re not growing.

Then came the next morning’s devotional: Be Patient. It shared the story of Moses — how he acted prematurely by killing an Egyptian, thinking he was helping, only to be sent into the desert for forty years. Why? Because God had to prepare him. Refine him. Shape him for the greater mission.

And suddenly it all made sense: the silence in my life wasn’t God ignoring me — it was God preparing me.

“Now Moses was tending the flock of Jethro his father-in-law, the priest of Midian. And he led the flock to the far side of the wilderness and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in flames of fire from within a bush.” — Exodus 3:1–2

I’m learning that sometimes God will take everything familiar — even the GPS — just to teach you how to trust Him without it. He’ll remind you that what’s ahead requires preparation, not panic. And if we surrender, be patient, and lean in? He will get us there.

So no, I won’t wing it. I’ll pray through it. Listen harder. Lean into the stillness. And trust the One who guided me home through Houston with no GPS, no sense of direction, just a whispered peace that said:

“I’ve got you.”