Slowing Down to Reconnect: Finding Peace in Uncertainty

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on something weighing on my heart. I dislike being misunderstood, but what bothers me even more is the realization that sometimes my approach contributes to that misunderstanding. In those moments, I felt a frustration that I shouldn’t, have because the very person I believe in—Christ—was misunderstood in the most profound way. He was crucified for preaching a truth that wasn’t fully received or grasped by those around Him.

Yet here I am, feeling above it all, as if I shouldn’t be subjected to the same misunderstandings. I often forget that I am called to become more like Christ, not just in what I say or do, but in how I handle these moments of being misunderstood.

I've also been wrapped up in my own struggles recently—my depression, my shortcomings, and the things I lack. I’ve forgotten, in all of this, where God has already taken me from. But then I pause, and I remember. I remember the days and nights I cried for the very things I now have in my life. I may not be where I want to be, but I’m exactly where I need to be. Life has a funny way of slowing us down, of forcing us to reflect and redirect, just when we’re trying to rush through it.

In these moments of reflection, I’m reminded to stop focusing on what’s missing and instead be grateful for how far I’ve come. The road ahead may be unclear, but pressing on—continuing to walk by faith, not by sight—is the only way forward. And maybe that’s all I need to do right now: keep pressing on, trusting that the path will reveal itself as I move forward.

I don’t have all the answers, and I’m not sure exactly what I need to focus on next. But I do know that I must keep going, trusting that God will continue to pave the way, just as He has always done.

Sometimes, in seasons of uncertainty, it’s not about having a clear focus but about staying grounded in faith, allowing space for gratitude, and trusting in the process. It’s a lesson I’m relearning: that there’s beauty in slowing down, in being present, and in trusting that where I am today is exactly where I’m meant to be.

Running From Fear to Faith

This past week, I found myself paralyzed by fear. I couldn’t go to work, trapped in the overwhelming belief that I was going to be fired. It all started when a former coworker reported me to HR over something I wrote. And just like that, fear set in—heavy, suffocating, and relentless.

What’s funny is how familiar this feeling is. I’ve spent much of my life running—not only emotionally but physically too, from country to country. I run because I feel shame, I run because of fear, and mostly, I run because I’m misunderstood. I know I can be what some call a "sandpaper person"—someone who rubs others the wrong way. I don’t deny that. My intentions are always good, but my delivery and approach could use refining.

I’ve always strived to be authentic and honest. And while that sounds admirable, sometimes it comes out as abrasive bluntness that no one really wants to hear. People think I’m bossy, that I want things done my way. Honestly, when I was younger, maybe that was true. But now? Now I just want my experience and point of view to be respected. I want to be heard, not misunderstood.

But here’s what I’m beginning to realize: God is involved in everything I do, say, or experience. I’ve spent so much time trying to make the world see me for who I am, but perhaps God has been trying to show Himself through me. Maybe the world doesn’t need to see me—they need to see Him.

I’ve been so focused on my shortcomings and the distress I feel that I’ve overlooked the supernatural things God has been doing in my life. I keep getting caught up in how people perceive me, how they misunderstand me, but God’s purpose is bigger than my fears, bigger than my shame, and bigger than the people who wish evil upon me.

Like Joseph in the Bible, what others mean for harm, God turns into something good. Time and time again, I’ve seen this truth play out in my life. Every setback, every moment of pain, God has used for a greater good that I couldn’t see at the time.

So to those who doubt me, to those institutions or people who try to stifle me—you’re messing with the wrong person. I am a child of the King, and my life is guided by His purpose, not by the opinions or actions of others.

It’s time to stop running. Not from fear, but toward the faith that God is working in all things, even in the moments that feel like defeat.