My new psychiatrist asked how I get my needs met when I'm busy meeting everyone else's. The answer: At sunrise, every day. I meet God there. For a year now, I've approached dawn like an altar. I can't set my watch by people anymore – their consistency wavers. But the sun rises because God commands it. Every morning, without fail, He proves His faithfulness.
Book Journey
Partly Cloudy at Sunrise: Finding Faith in the In-Between
Santa Billy handed me a red tumbler emblazoned with 'Believe' just as I'm waiting to hear from agents about my rebranded manuscript. But I've discovered something at sunrise: the partly cloudy days are the most beautiful ones. Not the extremes of brilliant sunshine or impenetrable fog, but the in-between spaces where faith has room to grow. Maybe that's why they call it faith – this willingness to wait for what we cannot guarantee, to find beauty in what isn't perfect.
Anchored at Sunrise: Why Some Routines Are Non-Negotiable
Eight weeks after submitting my manuscript, facing rejections and a complete rebrand of my book, I'm discovering that everyone wants flexibility - my principal, the publishing world, life itself. But I won't skip my sunrise ritual. Because flexibility without foundation isn't resilience; it's just falling.
Taming a Temper in Therapy and Accepting My Bipolar Diagnosis
After decades of trying to control my temper through prayer alone, therapy finally gave me the tools to manage bipolar rage. Here's how mental health treatment changed everything.
Writer's Growth 