The Processing Mind

Volume Two; Chapter Two: Jöön.

June 3rd, 2026

There’s enough life to go around and certainly enough to be lived.

Welcome to Jöön’s blank canvas where I’ll round up all the colors I’d like to use throughout the month and then spend the rest of it coloring. Whether the art comes out beautiful or ends up a vomit of mess, the greatest win I will have achieved is taking this blank canvas by its horns and running with it instead of running away.

And to translate that gibberish to English, welcome to Jöön’s overview, briefing, checklist if you will; of things I want to do, plan to do, or need to do.

The purpose of this briefing is to essentially allow myself some time to organize my life and round up the momentum it’s going to take to end this month on top; not to mention the confidence it’ll bring as it gives me a sense of direction and the accountability it’ll hold me to as I ensure these things get done.

Every day I’m growing, learning, living, and the thing I’m proud of the most is that more often than not now, every day I’m having fun.

And I want to keep that alive, so without further ado, let’s begin.

Introducing my colors:

Pink, aka The No-Spend Challenge
My WHY: I want to go back to school, I don’t qualify for financial aid which means I have to pay my own way, and none of that matters; I want to go back to school.

Blue, aka Daily Routine
My WHY: I want something sturdy, something reliable, something consistent. Something I don’t have to question, something that just happens without too much thought; I want a routine.

Orange, aka Creative Expression and Hobbies
My WHY: I have so many ideas in my head that I just want to get out whether its on a page or a canvas; a vlog or podcast — doesnt matter, I want to see what it looks like.

and of course,

Green — Jazzercise.

I don’t actually jazzercise, but you can’t tell me there was a better way to finish off my crayon box. Well, unless of course you can, in which case I’ll start over; what I meant to say was green means dance.

Every part of me,
says dance.

My WHY? Because the simple truth is, I love to dance. I stopped dancing for a long time because I was embarrassed everytime I danced off step but now none of that matters; I want to dance.

Emphasis on want, want, want.

And I mean it when I say I’m going to color my way through Jöön, emphasis on color. I don’t have a “design” in mind, but I do have a box of crayons and I’m completely content with not knowing where that’ll take me.

In the past, all I ever wanted to paint was a portrait of success. I never wanted to paint unless I knew it was going to be good. I was afraid of the mess; afraid of other people seeing the mess, and especially afraid of them judging me for it. But in all honesty, now I’m just happy the mess is there and I cannot tell you how much of a relief that is.

To know that, somehow, my curiosity has surpassed my need for societal approval.

I’ve decided I don’t need success to be happy or better yet, that my version of it doesn’t need to match that of his or hers. It’s empowering, like the handcuffs are off.

That’s not to say I’m immune to disappointing others, that it wouldn’t phase me if I let someone down — of course it would. However, slowly I’m learning to separate and discern the authority a person has on my life at any given time and understanding the extent of that authority.

Some people will run right over you if you let them, and it took me a long time to finally understand what that meant. Like, I understood the surface idea, that they’ll take advantage, but it went far deeper than I could have ever realized. There was more depth, more meaning, and all it took was time to make me say enough is enough.

And a lot of that have to do with myself.
I ran myself over.

I forced myself to be things I couldn’t, gave myself deadlines I couldn’t meet, and anytime that happened, I’d sit in sorrow, grieving all the time I’ve wasted and the time I’ll never get back. I was never good enough and that gave me a lot of shame; it was only by the grace of God that I was able to overcome it because the hole I dug for myself was so deep, I would have never conjured up the strength to climb out of it on my own.

I was so hung up on society’s expectations of me that I never stopped to ask what mine were. As I get older, I’m starting to understand that it’s not someone else’s job to live my life for me; that responsibility’s mine and mine alone. And after being saved by Christ, it’s my will to follow Him, as a means to give thanks for the depression He brought me out of.

I was my own Egypt.

Therefore, success to me is disorganized chaos where I’m smack dab at the center. And maybe that’s why the colors matter so much to me.

For a long time, I wasn’t interested in coloring unless I knew exactly what the finished picture would look like. I wanted guarantees. I wanted assurance people would love it. I wanted to ensure they’d be proud because that was the only proof that the effort would be worth it.

If there were no people, there were no crayons.

But somewhere along the way, I became less interested in the finished picture and more interested in the act of coloring itself.

So now there’s crayons whether or not there’s people.

What about you? What’s in your crayon box?

Think about it.

Cheers,
B.
Mei, & The Fight for Later.

May 31st, 2026

Death is for the dead; life is for the living.

I’ve spent a long time wondering how a person could be so content maintaining a seemingly dead-end job, but after some investigation, the truth I would come to realize would completely change the way I viewed my life.

And it was so simple, too. So simple that looking back now, I don’t know how I could have possibly missed it. I mean, I must have unconsciously committed to ignoring it every time it stared me in the face because it was so obvious, so present, so loud, so real.

Where I saw a dead-end, they saw opportunity.

The thought alone makes me grieve all the years I lost denying myself opportunities just because I was afraid they wouldn’t be worth the time.

Rather than believing the concept that you could let time itself run free, have it look back at you and realize you’re exactly where it wants to be, I forced it close and I’ve been waking up on the wrong side of the bed ever since. I couldn’t imagine a world where letting time run free could benefit me; that instead of running away from me, it would run back towards me, as if I were the environment its wanted all along.

There’s this saying: if you love something, let it go. If it comes back, it’s yours. If it doesn’t, it never was.

Well, I couldn’t let it go.

I was so stuck on the thought that time is always running, ticking and chipping away at every piece of my life until I no longer own a second to my name; the thought of death paralyzed me so much that I became obsessive over time and nothing was valuable enough to spend precious seconds on. I let myself be a jack of many trades and a master of none and guess what,

Time ran
anyway.

The thought that time could walk never crossed my mind. That it could slow down, and one way I could make that happen was by simply living life by the day.

Not by focusing on the future, what I want it to look like, and forcing the present to be better than what it is, but by loving the present for what it is and allowing time to do the rest.

I’ve had time chained to the wall for as long as I can remember, like a seed forced into a pot of soil and held at gunpoint with a threat that said no water until you grow.

So much potential in a single seed, yet so mismanaged, so wasted, by the likes of a greedy gardener.

Boxed in and suffocated, I imagine time wept for me. It wept because the thing I didn’t realize and the thing only time could tell, was that I was both the seed and the gardener; the crime and the punishment.

As we live, only time knows where we’re headed. And the only way we’ll ever achieve that kind of awareness is by living ourselves to the extent that time allows us.

But instead of choosing to live, I allowed death to inherit my body and fear to manipulate my freedom of choice.

I wanted opportunity to come to me, like I was entitled to it. As if it were a basic human right, and even worse, that I deserved it. How selfish and rude; small and immature. It’s taken 26 years to understand the beauty of growing on purpose, enjoying life by the day, and choosing to start now; to be messy for the sake of living.

Life doesn’t work the way I thought it did and truth be told, I like that it doesn’t; I’ve never grown so much in a single year as I have this past one and the difference was I went out and chased it. I chased time through the meadows and under the roots of the trees, I counted to ten and searched for it in a game of hide and seek and in the mess of it all, we became friends.

I didn’t realize how much I loved making messes. Disorganized chaos in the form of new beginnings. Splashing paint, spreading glue, hoping to create something so beautiful and new but the beauty of it all is that it’ll never be as beautiful as the time I spent in the act of the art. In fact, the art doesn’t do the act justice; the art will always be closer to death than the act will ever be because once the act is finished, once everything’s all said and done, the art is nothing but a memory on a shelf filled with preservatives to extend its expiration date.

It’s the act that slows down time.
It’s the act that can make time last forever.

I can’t unsee it, I can’t unfeel it, so now all that’s left to do is go out there and be it.

Life was never about the future, it was only about the day.
And that’s the opportunity I’ve decided to take.

What about you? What’s your relationship with time?

How are you living? Where are you living?
Are you living in the present, past, or future?

Think about it.

Cheers,
B.
Mei, & God’s Miracle.

May 18th, 2026

In order to move forward, sometimes you’ve got to look back.

Something I’m quickly learning is that you’ll never be able to revise a draft you’ve never written; meaning, if you don’t start something, you’ll never be able to adjust, change, or grow. You lose out on such a significant part of your nature — the ability to adapt.

The biggest win I had last year was the cure to my depression. I couldn’t tell you what Jesus did with me but after last year, no one will ever be able to convince me that God’s done performing miracles.

My happiness was God’s miracle —
to me.

There is no other way around it. It wasn’t the food I ate, the water I drank, or the movement I made — it was Jesus.

All my life, I’ve wanted to get baptized; throw up my hands and surrender to God — though I’ll admit, I’ve always romanticized it more than I’ve ever been able to actually do. However, every day it’s on my mind and every day I’m learning; one day I’ll overcome the flesh I fight with daily.

For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.
Romans 7:15 ESV

The truth is, I’ve always known that if I tried to lead my own life, I would never make it out of the mud. There would always be sorrow and pain, no rainbows, just rain, and it didn’t matter how weak or strong my faith was, this I believed with all my heart.

And maybe a part of that stems from my own insecurity that I’m never capable, but even now that I’ve developed a belief that I am, the quality of my life could never come close to the kind of paradise the Lord has built for me if I denied Him just to see what kind of paradise I could create on my own.

I cannot save myself. I cannot preserve myself. I couldn’t even wish myself into existence. I am so small, but how beautiful that is; that even the smallest things in life have purpose — I just have to go to my Creator and ask what it is and trust that He’ll guide me down the path to find it. But the act of trust doesn’t mean to continue to walk through life the way I always have, waiting for Him to make a move. Trusting Him means moving myself in His direction; climbing up the mountain, breaking a sweat, enduring the flesh, and never giving up; paying the price no matter the cost.

The path to Christ is through suffering. This will always ring true.
Whether the sacrifice is big or small, you hold your breath and go into the water anyway, just like Jesus did.

And that’s the miracle God worked in me. The ability to dive in. To allow myself to sink. To be afraid and do it anyway.

My depression lingered on the surface of deep water, and I got so caught up in the fear of drowning that by trying to stay afloat, it captured me so easily. I wasn’t willing to take the plunge and deny my flesh, so I stayed there and allowed it to convince me that I would never amount to anything.

For years I remained above the water, watching everyone else be something great, yet I remained unwilling. I was so desperate; I knew what I needed but I could never bring myself to let go. And then a friend of mine told me something I will never forget:

God doesn’t call on the qualified, He qualifies the called.

[F]ear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
Isaiah 41:10

He gave me all the air I needed. Pushed out the volume I had been holding in for so long and revived me with air so fresh it stung like mint. He cured my depression and instilled in me the courage to do what I had always wanted — to surrender myself to Him through baptism.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
Psalm 23:4

What about you? What was your biggest win last year?

What do you think your biggest win this year will be?

Think about it.

Cheers,
B.
Mei, & The View.

May 17th, 2026

And it’s so easy to think that last year I did nothing.

I got backed up, shifted gears, and took detours I thought would serve me better but didn’t. What should have taken me two hours has taken me ten and on top of all that, I’m still driving; the road I’ve taken is the road less paved and I don’t know where to go, what to do, but I’m putting one foot in front of the other, anyway.

And when I reflect on what separates me from last year, I ultimately land on the difference in my mindset. I used to think that if I just followed the person in front of me, somehow, I’d get to where I needed to go and if you asked me why, the answer was always simple: they looked like they knew where they were going. But something I’ve learned this past year is that life is not a one-way street and wherever it is that everyone else is going is not necessarily the same place you belong, too. I’ve realized that they’re going in that direction because that’s where their dream is— not mine — and that’s been my problem for as long as I can remember. No matter how hard I try, I simply cannot leech off someone else’s dream for the sake of my own.

And to be honest, that’s a really hard reality to face; to not have a dream but desperately want one and it doesn’t matter how much money you have, that’s just not something all the money in the world can buy. I mean where do you even begin? Where do dreams come from? What really are they? How do you just one day decide you want something so badly that you’ll pay the price no matter the cost? Where do you develop such deep resolve? How do you know what’s worth fighting for? Suffering for?

I haven’t had a dream in so long that I convinced myself it just meant I was growing up and being a dreamer just wasn’t a look I could afford to wear anymore. And so, I compensated by tailgating behind all the traffic, lane-swapping whenever there was an opening, and taking every exit I could just to see what was out there. And every time I was met with nothing. There was nothing there for me. I think that’s when I realized that it doesn’t matter where you go, if you don’t solve your problems exactly where you are, all you’ll do is take them with you and then nothing will change. And no one can shield you from that.

And you know where my problems were?
In the dirt.

Not on pretty paved roads with traffic lights and pedestrians;
the dirt.

A place where no one could see me except God Himself. In the past, I’d find myself speeding with impatience; always certain I knew where I was going. It’d never take me long before I was back in the car because just when I thought I was there, I always seemed to be an exit or two short. But by then, I had lost all hope, I’d get back in my car, and drive home.

Last year was different.

I took detours on dirt roads, and the difference was I went in with no expectations, no pressure, and no rush. I slowed down and realized life’s a drive and some places I’ve always planned to go are places I may never be and that doesn’t have to be a bad thing; it’s something I’ve decided.

And the beautiful thing is, I can change my mind later. The important thing is that I tried and that’s more than the past couple years could say.

So, it’s easy to think that last year, I did nothing.
But last year, I was getting familiar with the road.

This road doesn’t neglect its potholes, it confronts them. And yeah, maybe that slows down the process a little, but on this road, the details matter. That’s what creates the view and after learning how to fill in the holes, I can’t imagine building life another way.

It’s the process, it’s the planning, it’s the view.

What about you? What’s your view like?

Does it need construction?

Think about it.

Cheers,
B.
Volume Two; Chapter One: Mei.

May 6th, 2026

I grew up an uncomfortable kid; slow to learning, to loving — becoming.

When I look back at my life from where I am now, I struggle with the weight of each burden I forced myself as a child to carry; as a mother, I weep for the youth I’ll never get back and the possibility that my son might fall into the same fate. I mourn myself in a way I never thought I could. The memory of my brokenness remains vivid in my mind and the guilt I feel when I think about all the times I’ve purposely held myself back because I just couldn’t imagine a world where I was capable haunts me.

And of course, I’m still broken,
but at least now I have Christ.

I wish I could explain it better, but Jesus really left the 99 to find me. It’s not a normalized thing — to sacrifice yourself for the sake of another, but that’s who Jesus was. He can’t stand by when one of us leaves the herd because He knows our purpose even when we don’t.

To Christ, every sheep is important — a heavy burden if you ask me; to have an infinite number of things in the world and Jesus has the capacity to understand the importance of each and every one of them; I’m overstimulated just thinking about it. Everyone has a story, everyone is unique, we are all handstitched by God from yarn He chose on purpose.

When I look at myself, I see someone who had such an unlikelihood of existing, but was created anyway. And I tremble when I realize that none of this, none of what I am, is random.

God chose me to love Him. He could have literally chosen anybody else, but He put His heart in my chest. His soul in my body. He didn’t raise me in the truth but built a path for me to find it. He didn’t force me to come home but waited for me to walk there myself.

He waited for me on the mountain, allowed me to roam the valley, and when I came home, He gave me His blessing.

Again, Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness but will have the light of life.
John 8:12

It feels like this past year I have been working towards refining what I’m now calling volume two of The Processing Mind Blog, SoiledRoot — a cute name for what I hope will be a groundbreaking year for me in terms of experience and exploration.

The truth is, we are not born into our perfect environment, but we are given the freedom to step out and find it. I used to view myself as a seed waiting to be watered but what I didn’t realize is that it’s the soil that can keep me from growing. So, this year, I’m dedicating time (again!) to developing a sense of awareness for my environment (aka, my soil) and the role it plays in my identity and how it shapes me overall as a person. The more I understand, the better I can adjust and influence my life via the places I surround myself in, and the better I can live.

To kickstart the month of Mei and my second lap around the sun as a blogger on The Processing Mind, I’ve uploaded my very first podcast episode to my YouTube channel, soiledroot. I pinned the video to the top of this page for you to watch and enjoy and hopefully take away something that could benefit you as you continue to walk in your own life, on your own terms.

The truth is we are all seeds waiting to grow, but who ever said we couldn’t run ourselves to the water?

So, what about you? How are you blooming?

What’s in your soil?

Think about it.

Cheers,
B.
Aprillë, & a New Leaf.

April 2nd, 2026
It’s not about where you’re going or who you want to be, it’s about where you are now and the person you’ve become so far.

It never ceases to amaze me how often I find myself having to come down to my own level; I somehow always think I’m better than I actually am or can do more than I actually could. My unproductive nature has always found it easier to spend more time wondering whose fault it is that I couldn’t live up to my expectations or simply resolving to try harder than actually pointing the finger at myself and lowering my standards for the sake of building discipline and setting obtainable goals.

Example, at the beginning of the year, my husband set out to do something that’s circulating the internet called, “The 75 HARD.” To break it down, every day for 75 days participants need to:
1. Follow a structured diet — doesn’t matter which, just choose, add in no alcohol and zero cheat meals, and you’ve got rule one all figured out.
2. Conduct two sets of 45-minute workouts (one must be done outdoors). You cannot do them back-to-back; there has to be at least three hours apart. Doesn’t matter the type of workout — just be intentional and you’ve achieved the second rule.
3. Drink a gallon of water — A DAY! Side note: Y’all crazy.
4. Read 10 pages of a book that is meant to make you better; nonfiction, self-development, work-related, etc. Oh, and audiobook do not count.
5. Take a progress picture, every day. If you’re truly following the challenge right, you will want these pictures to look back on. The act of taking the picture alone is meant to develop your ability to sit with discomfort. If you don’t already have a good body or a body that you’re proud of, you will be uncomfortable, despite only you having access to the picture (isn’t it interesting that there doesn’t even have to be a single person in the room for us to feel this way about ourselves? That’s why a task even this miniscule is important).
Five rules, 75 days. No substitutions, no compromises.

Y’all, my husband was a real player at this game. His longest streak was 14 days while I couldn’t even make it past day 1. It was wild, especially because I even did what the challenge said not to do.

Substitute, compromise, and without remorse, mind you.

Dropped the gallon down to half a gallon, the two sets of 45 down to one, and the rest seemed easy enough. And it was…

until I couldn’t even get half a gallon down…

Turns out what I needed to drop was the challenge itself, not the rules. I’m not ready for a challenge like that and what’s worse is I even discouraged my husband from the challenge himself. I sabotaged him, unintentionally of course; by getting back the time that was supposed to be dedicated to my workouts, I was adamant about allocating that time towards spending it with him. I mean, who wouldn’t want to spend time with their partner? Well, that translated to me being unsupportive because it was while he was conducting his workouts or even his read time that I had the time and wanted to spend it with him.

I threw him off, and he hasn’t come back to the challenge since. And that’s something I sit with often and with a resolve to mend things, I even attempt to re-encourage him to try again, this time without unwarranted obstacles (aka me — sad face). Alas, to no avail, but it’s like what I mentioned in my previous post, one day he’s going to wake up, and it’ll be easier to want to try again — and actually do it. I just need to give it time.

So, in the meantime, the best thing I can do is work on myself and the first step I’m taking towards that goal is to, with a heavy heart, lower my own standards and come down to my own level.

I made a 75 day challenge of my own. It’s not hard, in fact it might even be a level below soft, but it’s a start.

Here’s what I’m going to do.
1. 60 oz of water a day. This is almost laughable, in fact, I’m laughing as I write this. It’s not even half a gallon, it’s 4 ounces less… come on, b, but hear me out. I’m actually drinking from a 25 oz water bottle and have been refilling it three times a day (mind games, you know?). Anyway.
2. Bible study, every day, every morning, first thing’s first. I can do all things through him who strengthens me (Philippians 4:13).
3. 30/15/15 — 30 minutes of German practice, 15 minutes of reading, 15 minutes of daily movement.
And lastly, instead of doing it for 75 days, I’m only going to do it for five.

My intention is to do more, but in order to do more, I have to start with less. That’s the stage of life I’m in right now, and if you ask me, it’s against my will. My heart tells me to grab the bull by its horns and by all means, I want to do it, but my heart isn’t as disciplined as my mind or maybe the two just aren’t aligned, that’s a rabbit hole for another time; all I know is I’ll get there.

The best thing I can do for myself right now is to be honest.

Because there’s no one else in the room right now, you know? It’s just me, and there’s no nook I could possibly hide a piece of myself in where I won’t find it. The best thing I can do is admit that there’s a piece of myself that likes to hold myself back; that likes to sabotage or is just too scared to try. And if I can admit that much, then the source of the problem no longer becomes a shadow I cannot find but one I can see and can work with.

Then Jesus said to him, “Get up, pick up your mat, and walk.”
John 5:8

I honestly used to think I could get up and walk away, leaving my mat behind, but that’s not what Jesus calls on us to do. He wants us to carry it with us, as testimony that something that once held us back is now something we can use to actively glorify His name. He wants us to carry our brokenness, to allow others to see what we once used as crutches, so that they too might one day be able to follow behind Him with confidence that nothing will be impossible with God (Luke 1:37 ESV). So, from this day forward, I’m going to pick up my mat and walk.

What about you?

What’s your shadow?

Think about it.

Cheers,
B.
Chapter Twelve: Aprillë.

April 1st, 2026

I woke up today, and it was easy.

It’s been almost a year now since I’ve started this blog and somehow life’s gotten easier for me, at least on the aspect of change. I’ve become more comfortable with it; with allowing myself to be different and to explore different things. For instance, I don’t think I’ve ever woken up and wanted to learn German — up until now, that language had never occupied space in my mind and yet here I am, a month into Duolingo and Rosetta Stone, learning it with such zeal and intention that there’s no doubt in my mind one day I’ll be fluent. One could say I feel quite liberated; quite different.

I no longer just think about doing things, I do them. And on the days when I don’t, or even the weeks and months that follow, I take comfort in knowing that sometimes all we really need is a little time and a little patience.

And maybe that’s just me trying to justify my inaction, or maybe that’s me giving an honest evaluation of what stage of life I’m in right now; either way it’s been a long time coming to admit and despite its logic, I’m happy to accept it.

Because the fact of the matter is,

I woke up today and it was easy; the weight of the world felt lighter, and it felt easier to want more and actually feel like “more” was obtainable. And I don’t know what more looks like to you but to me, it looks like slow mornings, coffee, and the Bible; outside air from the seat of the prayer bench and piercing rays of sunshine through the lids of my closed eyes; walking, in all its innocence, and taking it one day at a time, just the way God intended it to be.

What about you? What’s your version of more?

Think about it.

Cheers,
B.
Chapter Ten: Fäire

March 2nd, 2026

“Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.”
Matthew 19:24

***

I get this sort of pain in my throat every time this verse comes to pass. It’s as if all the air in my lungs release to the point that my body becomes so small, smaller than it’s ever been, and then it’ll just stay there; in child’s pose, waiting for whoever was there to leave the room.

And it’s in that moment when I realize,
that’s my body telling me it feels shame.

And it makes me so sad to feel like I’m watching myself in third person, because I find myself practically drowning in empathy, just for my heart to sink at the realization that I’m not the bystander, I’m not the witness, I am this.

I’m not the jury, I’m the victim.

And as I write this, I’m winded, my breath — nonexistent.

It’s the pain of holding back tears that are strong enough to break a damn, the pain of pretending that everything’s okay because for some reason, it’s more important to me that everyone thinks I’m fine instead of knowing the truth because the truth is, and it’s a pain to know, that deep down, I’m way richer than I say I am — and that’s what’s going to keep me out of the kingdom of God.
***
“Jesus said to him, “If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me. When the young man heard this, he went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions. And Jesus said to his disciples, “Truly, I say to you, only with difficulty will a rich person enter the kingdom of heaven. “
Matthew 19:21-23

On my knees, I fold. My heart tussles with the flesh; my mind falls down to it — like a beggar. We don’t need it [possessions], my lord, it cries. Surely, we could do without. But then I get whiplashed with craving, with urge, and somehow in the mix of it all, my lungs sneak in enough air to last me until the next time Matthew 19:24 decides to make an appearance.

It covers up the pain, it covers up the problem, and God’s Heavenly Kingdom.

“No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and [flesh].”
Matthew 6:24

It’s the flesh, for me. I’m not rich in money, I’m rich in flesh — and it’s the flesh that’s going to keep me out of the kingdom of heaven.

I’m ashamed to love the flesh, the reward of the flesh, and how immediate it is; how its currency is so accessible that it’s overflowing — a land of its own milk and honey.

I’m hopeless. I can’t rub my eyes hard enough to see through this tunnel of darkness. They never tell you this is what faith feels like. To fall down on your knees, bow your head, and truly mean it when you say, “Lord, have mercy on me.” How broken you can feel and how desperate you can be; there are nights when you can’t sleep and days when you can’t breathe.

But this shame is meant to tell you
that the beauty of feeling this way is that
it means you care what God thinks of you.

And why would someone care about God if He wasn’t real?
It’s because you believe that He is.

And I hope this gives you clarity like it does for me, because it means the hiding can finally be over; I don’t have to hide anymore, because I can’t. I can’t hide from God.

“…even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you.”
Psalm 139:12

For nothing is hidden that will not be made manifest, nor is anything secret that will not be known and come to light.
Luke 8:17

No one can make you change, but if you truly loved someone, you would. You would stop what’s hurting them and spend your days wondering what would make their better. Their problems would be yours and their goals would be too. When you love someone, your life stops being all about you and more about others. You find compassion, you find patience, and you find grace; add in forgiveness and that sums up the Lord Himself.

And just when I thought this post would be a bottomless sob fest, there’s light at the end of the tunnel after all. Kind of makes you wonder if that’s the whole purpose; to know more, to love more, to change for, to live for.

And Lord, you’re worth living for.
You’re worth changing for.
I surrender.

And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.
Galatians 5:24

No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.
1 Corinthians 10:13

I can do all things through him who strengthens me.
Philippians 4:13 ESV

I was rich in flesh before, but I won’t be anymore.
in Your name, I pray,
Amen.
Embërr, ft. The Curated Drop: The Growth & Grind Report

December 8th, 2025

What you are today is what you are becoming. You are today what you have been becoming. Every day is a little life, and our whole life is but a day repeated.”
— Elizabeth George

…

I hit the ground running this month; I started a book club called Holy Root, finished the Gospels, made attending church a non-negotiable, worked intentionally towards developing my femininity and womanhood, became more in-tuned with my home with a deep conviction to nurture it, and began incorporating prayer with my just-under-three-year-old son; now I witness in complete awe how he asks to pray more and watch as he often leads his prayers all by himself. It has not been an easy road, but one definitely worth taking.

And I find there’s something to say about stamina and how consistency cannot function long term without it. But stamina — it’s built, it’s lived, experienced, not gifted. You work for it, fight for it, and the battle — it’s never over. I quit just about every day, no matter what it is, whether I want it or not, I fall to my knees and I say I don’t want it, hoping that somehow it cleans my hands of any effort requiring me to forfeit my idleness. Every day I suffer in this dark desire for idleness over something that would undoubtedly serve me ten times better; I suffer because I know it. It’s a disease, really, which is why the fight for stamina is necessary: you have to fight the flesh. Every day. There’s no other way around it. We can’t escape it, but we can endure it, and that’s a blessing that comes from the grace of God. He says:

No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and He will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation He will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.
1 Corinthians 10:13

We are builders. Nothing in life comes without building, and nothing that’s built comes without choice. And it’s easy to be persuaded that things happen to you instead of because of you and that’s because some things are easier to assemble — so easy that you do it without thinking. Sin is so accessible that it’s available in every language, every instance, every moment; while we’re asleep, while we’re awake, with or without thinking, we can build with as little as our hands. Sin is no-bake, no-refrigerate, and one ingredient only: flesh.

You want to read a book? Write a book? Lose weight? Run a race? Climb a mountain? Finish school? Break a habit? Start a new one? Whether a want or a need, whatever it is that it may be, the cost remains the same, you need to choose to fight the flesh — a lifetime war, and you’ll lose some battles, but with every morning you choose to get back up from your fall, the victory is already yours. It’s when we completely surrender to our flesh that the war ends, without negotiation, without compromise, we lose.

But all it takes is a mustard seed of faith.

It is like a grain of mustard seed, which, when sown on the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth, yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes larger than all the garden plants and puts out large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.
Mark 4:31-32

I planted my mustard seed in Mei, and only now has it begun to sprout, but it is growing faster than I could have ever imagined. So fast that I find myself convicted in the littlest moments, in the littlest things. So fast that I hardly recognize myself when seen in the mirror. I’m different, as different as I assumed the person I’ve always wanted to be would look like.

And that’s hope. Regardless of how sensitive it is or how fleeting — when it’s here, it’s addicting, and now all I’m thinking about is what next to plant here in my garden.

And I don’t know how it happened and I don’t know what to say other than something is changing; that for once in my life, I’m finally awake enough to witness how tangible change can be. That I’m emotionally aware enough to realize I’m living a moment that’s going to change the rest of my life. Tomiee and I never used to share the same interests before and yet an era is evolving in which this might no longer be the case at all.

So sensitive, so fleeting, yet absolutely addicting.

Where lies your hope? What’s in your garden?

Think about it.

Cheers,
B.
Embërr, ft. The Curated Drop: The Rhyme & Rhythm Report

December 2nd, 2025

Faith doesn’t mean I know where I’m going, only that I trust God with wherever it is He takes me.
…

Readings

1.
A Woman After God’s Own Heart
by Elizabeth George

2.
Through Gates of Splendor
by Elisabeth Elliot
(unfinished)

3.
The Gospels of the Bible
The Book of Luke

4.
The Gospels of the Bible
The Book of Mark

5.
The Gospels of the Bible
The Book of Matthew

…

Embërr’s Line-Up, Spotify Style

crooked the road by Mon Rovîa
City on a Hill by Mon Rovîa
To Watch the World Spin Without You by Mon Rovîa
Paul Revere by Noah Kahan
i Am A Mountain by Coldplay

…

I used to think I knew what I wanted, but it wasn’t until I started to clean the clutter around my wants that I found my needs.

And what I needed was You — but You knew that, didn’t You? In fact, it’s always been You, hasn’t it? You’ve just been there, waiting for me, grieving me, yet still teaching me.

And Lord, I grieve Your tears, but I praise Your patience.
You came for me, died for me, and have been waiting ever since.

And every day You’ll wait for me, but perhaps it’ll be a little easier now
because I’m coming.