There you are, wounded prey on display. The enemy swoops in and takes advantage of a weak moment when your head bobbed too far above the shelter of the ground. His talons tighten and the clutch cuts off your hope. In vulnerability, you find yourself ensnared, limp in the grip.

I hobbled into 2023 knowing I had been emotionally bruised by the thrashing of 2022. As I limped into January, I feared my “word of the year.” After all, choosing a word at the start of each year is not like picking a sweater off the rack or a meal off a menu.

My friends, it has been a while since I have written for this blog. 

Three months ago, I gave birth to a beautiful and healthy baby girl. Brielle Shiloh has already lit up our lives and is a testimony to God’s faithfulness.

Currently, I have no words.

In this void, every syllable seems trivial. The formation of letters to words takes too much effort. The capturing of language is too difficult because I do not know what to say. I am not even sure how I completely feel.

I am re-learning how to anticipate. That may sound weird but after the last two years where I marinated in disappointment, anticipation has not come easy to me. To anticipate means to look forward, to expect, to respond to something beforehand.