Some hallelujahs aren’t whispered softly.
They’re fought for. They’re clawed out through pain, grief, and surrender.
They come with tears, not triumphal songs.
When I Lost My Mom
The first hard fought hallelujah came when I lost my mom.
Her absence left me shattered and questioning everything I thought I believed about God. How could He take such a wonderful woman away from two kids who needed her so much?
But slowly, my heart began to shift. I realized that God had given us the very best mom anyone could ask for. She loved fiercely, gave selflessly, and shaped us in ways that will last a lifetime. We were blessed beyond measure.
When Life Fell Apart
The next hallelujah came wrapped in divorce papers and hospital visits. Sickness and brokenness stripped away everything I thought made me secure. I was empty, broke, and convinced there was nothing left.
When nothing else in this world worked, I decided to give Jesus a try—not the Sunday version I’d grown up hearing about, but a real, raw, gritty relationship. Through long, honest conversations, He met me where I was. And in that place of ruin, I found my heart again. I found my voice. I found joy.
When the Fire Came
And then came the fire.
It didn’t just burn down walls. It burned through pieces of me I didn’t even know were fragile. I was broken. Homeless. Pushing away the very people who loved me most.
I remember declaring, even in the middle of the flames, that I would love and serve Him no matter what. And for a while, Jesus was the only one I could love. Through months of gritty, gut-honest conversations, I started to pick up the pieces again.
That was a battle. But just like before, Jesus met me where I was—right in the ashes—and walked me back into the light.
Some hallelujahs aren’t easy.
They’re hard fought. They’re born in pain, wrestled through doubt, and carried out in faith.
But they are real. And they are beautiful.
The Stamp
This stamp means so much to me. It’s more than ink and paper — it’s a reminder that God will meet you right where you are.
It doesn’t officially release until Friday, but in remembrance of Charlie Kirk, I felt it was important to share it today. Like Charlie, I will keep my heart open, my arms ready for conversation, and my life devoted to serving the Lord until my last breath.
May this small symbol be a big reminder:
No matter where life finds you — in joy, in pain, in the fire, or in the quiet — God is already there.
Much Love,
Joy
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