If I were to write a bio for this blog, what would it be? How can you get to know who you’re reading from…

There are moments in life when it feels as if the ground beneath you shifts, and suddenly, nothing is the same. I’ve experienced such changes, often in waves, as if the universe were speaking in a language only the heart could hear. Spiritual challenges have a way of unraveling you, piece by piece, and in that unraveling, I often found myself gazing at the sky, wondering if perhaps I wasn’t meant to be here at all—if instead, I should have been an astronaut, drifting through the endless, star-filled expanse, seeking answers among the constellations.

In those moments, where the familiar dissolves and the unknown beckons, something deeper begins to emerge within me. These spiritual shifts, though daunting, offered glimpses of truth. It was as if I had been invited to dance with mystery itself, to explore realms both within and beyond. And so, here I am—no longer lost but curiously afloat, navigating these invisible tides, ready to share the lessons the stars whispered along the way.

Despite the pain and confusion wrapped up in my share of three-dimensional experiences, I am grateful they have occurred. The wisdom these trials have bestowed upon me has been profound and transformative. The downloads of insight that life has provided me—through hardship, through longing, through facing the void—have been illuminating in ways I never expected.

From a young age, I believed that my greatest gift lay in speaking—in sharing stories, laughing with abandon, performing for those around me. Yet, that opportunity was never mine to fully claim. And, in a twist I could hardly admit, I realized that I didn’t even want it. The spotlight, the cacophony of attention—it all seemed excessive, burdensome.

Unnecessary things would always irk me. I longed for a different kind of existence—one without the tethers that kept me grounded. I craved a life with roaring engines, fueled by the thrill of speed. Those were my happiest moments, moments where I felt alive, where my spirit matched the velocity of my dreams. Yet, I hesitated. I feared making a wrong step, feared that my own impulses could lead me astray.

So, I started where I needed to: by learning to trust myself. This journey began the day I chose to accept my life as it was. I told myself there must be a reason I had agreed to this path—even if it meant enduring the fire and offering my very being as a sacrifice to earn the love of my Lord.

And that’s why I fear myself most. More than any external threat, it is the vastness within me that I find most daunting. I fear the lengths I might go, the wrath I could unleash. This is why I anchor myself in constant remembrance of God. In all the chaos and noise of life, there is a singular, sublime truth that I hold onto: that above the sky, above everything seen and unseen, there is a sensibly glorious God. He is the holder of wisdom, the knower of every hidden secret, the one who reigns over all.

As I move forward, navigating these cosmic tides with both trepidation and wonder, I am reminded that the journey—with all its turbulence and brilliance—is worth it. Each moment, each lesson etched in stardust, carries me closer to understanding, to peace. And that is a gift I’ll forever cherish.