Take Back Your Health

10/16/2026

10/16/2026

WHEN DID WE BECOME SO COMFORTABLE WITH ACCUSATION?

Something has been weighing heavily on my heart today, and I believe it's worth sharing.

I'm noticing more and more how easily we, even as believers, can drift from the heart of Christ in the things we say, the judgments we make, and especially the things we choose to share publicly.

And I say WE intentionally. Because none of us is beyond drifting. None of us has arrived. We are all being sanctified, and we all need the Holy Spirit continually examining and refining our hearts.

But I wonder if we've become so accustomed to expressing our opinions, defending our positions, and responding from our emotions that we've forgotten to ask a very important question.

Does what I'm about to say actually reflect the heart of Jesus?

I see people publicly questioning the motives of others, making assumptions about someone's relationship with God, dismissing another person's testimony, or using their platforms to express grievances against people who have hurt them.

And I find myself wondering, how do we know what's truly in another person's heart?

We don't.

We may see someone's actions. We may disagree with their theology. We may even recognize fruit that needs addressing. And Scripture absolutely calls us to exercise discernment.

But discernment is not permission to assign motives we cannot know.

There's a difference between testing what someone teaches and putting their heart on trial.

And there's a difference between speaking truth and speaking from an unhealed wound.

Revelation 12:10 identifies Satan as the accuser of our brothers and sisters, accusing them before God day and night.

That should cause us to examine our own words very carefully.

Because while correction is biblical, condemnation, slander, and bitterness are not the heart of the ministry Christ has entrusted to us.

Galatians 6:1 tells us that when someone is caught in sin, those who live by the Spirit should restore that person gently, while watching themselves.

Restore. Gently.

Not publicly humiliate.

Not speculate about motives.

Not gather agreement around our grievances.

Not use spiritual language to justify resentment.

And certainly not confuse our emotional responses with the leading of the Holy Spirit.

Ephesians 4:26–27 warns us about allowing anger to give the devil a foothold. Just a few verses later, we're instructed to put away bitterness, rage, anger, slander, and malice, and to forgive one another as God forgave us in Christ.

That's not a suggestion to ignore wrongdoing. Forgiveness doesn't mean that trust is automatically restored or that boundaries aren't necessary.

But it does mean we are called to something greater than continually rehearsing the wrongs committed against us.

And this becomes especially important when God has entrusted us with a voice that others listen to.

Influence is a responsibility, not simply an opportunity to be heard.

When we press send, we're not just sharing a thought. We may be shaping how someone else understands forgiveness, grace, repentance, relationships, and even the character of God.

That's something I take very seriously.

Do I get hurt? Absolutely.

Do I experience frustration, disappointment, and moments when my own heart needs correcting? Of course.

But I've learned that not every emotion deserves a public platform. Not every offense requires a response. And not every thought that feels justified has been surrendered to the Lord.

Sometimes the most important thing we can do before pressing send is stop and invite the Holy Spirit to examine what's motivating us.

Because being right about someone's behaviour doesn't automatically mean we're right in how we respond to it.

Jesus told us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us (Matthew 5:44).

James 1:19–20 reminds us to be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness God desires.

And James 3:1 reminds those who teach that they will be judged more strictly.

These are sobering instructions, especially for those of us who lead, teach, minister, or have people looking to us for spiritual wisdom.

We are not called to become the loudest voices in the room.

We are called to become more like Christ.

And sometimes that means correcting someone in love. Sometimes it means extending forgiveness. Sometimes it means having a difficult private conversation. And sometimes it means choosing silence while God continues His work in our own hearts.

I keep coming back to this:

Am I helping people see Jesus more clearly, or am I inviting them to see someone else through the lens of my own hurt?

That's a question worth asking every single day.

Because the enemy is the Accuser.

Jesus is our Advocate (1 John 2:1).

And as His followers, we have been entrusted with the ministry of reconciliation (2 Corinthians 5:18).

May we never become so consumed with defending ourselves, proving a point, or exposing someone else's shortcomings that we lose sight of the very heart of the One we claim to represent.

Lord, begin with me.

Search my heart. Correct what needs correcting. Heal what needs healing. And teach me to use whatever influence You've entrusted to me in a way that honours You.

Less accusation. More restoration.
Less assumption. More discernment.
Less reaction. More surrender.
Less of us. More of Jesus.

10/11/2026

I came home different. Not because every battle is over, but because now I can see the battle differently. I went to Be in Health Retreat thinking God was going to show me more about healing.

Instead, He showed me more of Him, more of me, and more of what has been occupying places in my heart and mind that were never meant to live there. And maybe the greatest gift is that He didn't only show me what needs to leave. He gave me a glimpse of what takes its place. Love. Compassion. Tenderness. The ability to look at another human being and, even for a moment, feel like I was seeing them through the Father's eyes. I have spent years learning about healing the body.

This week reminded me that God cares about the whole person. Spirit. Soul. Body. And I am beginning to understand sanctification in a way I never have before. There is a refining happening. A burning away of what doesn't belong. What I have heard described as the baptism of fire is becoming very real to me, not as a comfortable experience, but as a surrender to God's refining work. Letting Him expose what isn't of Him, repent of what I have agreed with, and allow the Holy Spirit to transform what remains. There are roots I am still discovering. Thoughts I am learning to take captive. Places in my heart God is still softening. Generational patterns I am learning not to agree with anymore. And I am grateful for every bit of it. I don't need to have arrived. I just need to keep saying yes.

Yes to repentance.
Yes to obedience.
Yes to truth.
Yes to having my mind renewed.
Yes to sanctification.
Yes to the refining fire that reveals what I have carried and teaches me what belongs to Him. Yes to letting God search the places I didn't even know needed searching.

This week wasn't an ending. It was an invitation to walk out what God has begun.

And if He can soften places in my heart within the first 24 hours that have been guarded for decades, won't He do it?

So I come home grateful, humbled, expectant, and ready to continue the walk.

One thought at a time.
One surrender at a time.
One repentance at a time.
One yes at a time.

Thank you, Hope of the Generations Church/ Be in Health.

This one is coming home with me. ❤️

I highly recommend all believers attend this 5 day experience. PM me if you are curious xx

10/07/2026

This week, I am away at Hope of the Generations Church learning more clearly what Scripture reveals about two kingdoms:

The Kingdom of God.

And the kingdom of darkness.

Friends, there is a war for territory.

And one of the greatest battlegrounds is your MIND.

“For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.”
Ephesians 6:12 NIV

And something I am understanding at an entirely different level this week is ACCUSATION.

Scripture actually calls Satan “the accuser.”

Accusation against God.

Accusation against others.

Accusation against ourselves.

And look at what can begin growing when those accusations are believed and entertained:

Unforgiveness.
Jealousy.
Envy.
Rejection.
Bitterness.
Fear.
Pride.
Anger.
Resentment.

Then we normalize these patterns.

“That’s just how I am.”

“My mother was like that.”

“My father was like that.”

“Our whole family struggles with this.”

And generation after generation, we can keep agreeing with patterns that were never God's design for us.

But here's what I am learning:

You don't have to keep agreeing with them.

BELIEVE.

RECEIVE.

REPENT.

FORGIVE.

And come back into agreement with what GOD says is true.

Because when darkness is continually given territory in our thinking and our lives, it doesn't become kinder.

It wants more territory.

Jesus described the enemy as one who comes “only to steal and kill and destroy,” but then He gives us the incredible contrast:

“I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”
John 10:10 NIV

THIS is the battle I am beginning to understand differently.

Not people against people.

Not me against you.

Not even me against myself.

“For our struggle is not against flesh and blood…”

There is a spiritual battle.

And Jesus Christ has already declared the victory.

I'm only a few days into my time at Hope of the Generations, and God is connecting dots I didn't even know were disconnected.

This isn't just information.

It's revelation.

And I know I will never teach healing the same way again.

Who else but Jesus. ❤️

10/02/2026

There are moments when you can look back and suddenly see that God was connecting dots you didn’t even know were there.

Almost two years ago, something appeared on my phone that I wasn’t searching for.

A book.

Exposing the Spiritual Roots of Disease by Dr. Henry W. Wright.

I had never heard of him. I had never heard of Be in Health. I had no idea that clicking on that title would open a door that would become such a significant part of my own learning, my faith, and ultimately the work God was preparing me to do.

Since that day, I have immersed myself in Dr. Wright’s teachings and his decades of work exploring the connection between our spiritual lives, our souls, and our physical health.

Earlier this year, I travelled to Rochester, New York, for a Be in Health conference.

And now, I’m preparing to travel to Thomaston, Georgia, where I have the incredible privilege of spending six days with the Be in Health team at Hope of the Generations Church.

Even writing that makes me emotional.

Because as I woke up this morning preparing for these next eight days, I realized something.

This isn’t just a trip.

It feels like a marker.

A line between a season of receiving and a season of being sent.

God has walked me through my own journey with health. Through cancer. Through learning to listen to my body. Through years of studying and understanding that we cannot separate what is happening physically from what is happening in our soul and spirit.

And lately, I have felt Him pressing something very clearly on my heart:

Teach My Church to steward the body I gave them.

The Church has done beautiful work caring for the soul and nurturing the spirit.

But I believe there is another conversation God is asking us to have about stewarding our physical bodies too.

Spirit • Soul • Body.

All of it belongs to Him.

And of all mornings, today was the morning I began reaching out to churches.

Then I stopped and realized where I am about to go.

Back to the very place connected to the teachings God unexpectedly placed in front of me almost two years ago.

Maybe this isn’t a prodigal-coming-home story after all.

Maybe this is an Isaiah moment.

“Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?”

And Isaiah answered:

“Here am I. Send me.” — Isaiah 6:8

That is what these next eight days mean to me.

Not that I have arrived.

Not that I have all the answers.

But that I am willing.

Willing to learn.
Willing to listen.
Willing to be stretched.
Willing to sit at the feet of people who have spent decades doing this work.
And willing to carry whatever God asks me to carry back home.

There is something sacred about realizing that what once appeared randomly on your phone WAS the beginning of an assignment.

So I’m walking into these next eight days with open hands and a grateful heart.

No agenda.

Just one simple prayer:

Lord, here I am.
Teach me.
Prepare me.
And send me.