There are days when I want nothing more than just the silence of my own mind.

It runs so frequently and so quickly that sometimes, when I think it’s still, it’s actually going faster than I can process. In those moments, I’ve learned to just turn off all devices and sit alone with God and my journal. Oddly enough, the words that are written in my journal do not come from my mind; they flow bountifully from my heart. (I have also learned that my heart and my mind seldom operate in tandem with one another.) I feel at peace in those moments; I feel still. I feel the weight of the world slipping off of me, and my heart feels the security it needs to just be free. I long for those moments. I make no apologies for seeking those moments. For when my mind is silenced but my heart is open, I can also feel God sitting with me.

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For me, writing isn’t just cathartic; it is my way of communing with God. It is my breath and my life. Yes, I am grateful for this gift, but I’m most grateful for the time that it allows me to spend with God. Sometimes I wish that 16-year-old Michelle could see me now. She hated English classes and absolutely despised writing. She thrived in mathematical environments and lived to compute all sorts of things. I’d love to chat with her because I wonder what she would say to me now that I absolutely love writing, and I am known for correcting the grammatical errors of others. I wonder what she would say to me because everything that she once feared is being fulfilled in me today, through the aid of the Holy Spirit.

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Recently, I have been experiencing the consequences of living within the loudness of my own mind. When I wake up in the morning, I already feel exhausted, emotionally worn from a day that hasn’t yet begun. As the hours slowly pass, anxiety and longing keep me company as I desperately try to make it through the workday. I come home, significantly more tired than I left, and immediately rush to wash the stench of stress away. The thought of curling up on my couch with my journal or word search book comforts me like a baby with its pacifier, and I move heaven and earth to make that dream my reality. The peace that I feel in the stillness and quietness of my home is so beautiful that it is truly saddening to think about leaving at any time.

Yet I am not naive. I know that my peace comes at a great cost. In order to have silence in my mind, I had to walk away from the noise and disruption of my life. Some friends, family members, and opportunities had to be removed for me to have the space to grant myself the mental reprieve that I needed. The woman that I once was had to die to herself to create space for the woman that I am becoming. She is so beautiful and truly needs space to flourish.

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Many may not know the root of my love for butterflies. Sixteen years ago, when my sister was pregnant, God distinctly told me that the baby would be the catalyst for change in my family and that we would undergo a change, much like a caterpillar does when it becomes a butterfly. Even when we did not know the gender of my sister’s baby, I knew that God was faithful to His word and that change was coming. From that moment, I began researching and learning more about butterflies. I started visiting sanctuaries and other insect places (despite my fear of insects) because I wanted to be around these beautiful creatures that are the epitome of evolution and growth. And over the past 16 years, I have learned one major thing- the beauty that I see came from an ugliness that I did not see.

Beloved, while I cannot/ did not see the ugliness that you endure(d), I know for a fact that God is faithful and that the beauty is coming.

Be blessed.