Anxiety has a way of lying to us. It whispers, “You’re stuck. You’ll never be yourself again. You’ll always feel this way.” But the Word of God speaks a greater truth: “Fear not, for I am with you.” (Isaiah 41:10)

I watched Pope Leo speak today in front of an auditorium filled with 16,000 young people right here in America. Sixteen thousand. Just imagine that many hearts gathered together—not for a concert, not for a celebrity meet-and-greet—but to praise God, ask real questions, and grow in faith. It moved me more deeply than I expected. When the students began asking questions, one that stood out was about AI, because honestly… how could it not?

There’s something so humbling about realizing that the Creator of all things — God Himself — desires a relationship with us. We don’t have to strive or perform to earn His love; it’s already ours through Christ. But when we truly love God, our hearts long to please Him — to live in a way that brings joy to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Each Person of the Trinity — Father, Son, and Spirit — reveals a different layer of God’s love and invites us to walk closer with Him.

There’s a quiet question that whispers through every heart at one time or another — “How can I be sure I’ll go to Heaven?” It’s not a question born of fear, but of love. Love for God, love for others, and a longing to be near the One who made us. And the beautiful truth is this: God wants us to know His heart and to rest in His promise of eternity with Him. Have faith.

There’s something so sacred about food shared after a long day’s work — especially when it’s cooked with love and served with purpose. I often think about one of my favorite Bible moments found in John 21:1–14 — the story of Jesus appearing to His disciples after His resurrection. They had gone back to what they knew — fishing. The waves lapped against the boat, the sun rising slowly as their nets came up empty again and again. These were seasoned fishermen, weary in both

Yesterday, I caught myself doing that thing again—staring at my phone, scrolling through nothing. I had opened it to answer a message, and before I knew it, forty-two minutes had vanished in the TikTok–Instagram–Email vortex of distraction. The pasta water was boiling over on the stove. My dog sat patiently by her bowl staring at me. A text from a friend sat unread. And I had that familiar sinking feeling again—that little ache behind the ribs—the feeling of time slipping awa

Ever wake up and just feel like the world has its hands on its hips, staring you down and saying, “Really? You again?” Yeah. That was me today. I don’t even know why. Nothing catastrophic happened. I didn’t trip and fall in public or accidentally like someone’s photo from 2009 while Facebook stalking (though, honestly, give me time). It was just one of those weird heavy days—the kind where your heart feels a little wrinkled and your brain starts asking dramatic questions l

There are television shows that entertain—and then there are those that move you, change you, and touch something deep inside your soul. The Chosen is one of those rare treasures. It’s not just a show to watch; it’s an experience to feel. From the very first episode, it’s clear that this series was made with love, purpose, and divine inspiration.

It made me wonder: what would Jesus do? That isn’t just a cliché or a slogan for bumper stickers. It’s a way of living. A daily question that should guide every choice we make.

There’s a certain magic that comes with waking up each day knowing that your job is to create. To take what’s in your heart, around you, your imagination, and your prayers, and turn it into something that others can see, feel, and hold. Being a full-time artist is both a dream come true and a daily adventure—it’s freedom and challenge woven together with threads of color, faith, and possibility.

I’ve always loved old things — an heirloom quilt, a weathered farmhouse table, a recipe scribbled in a grandmother’s handwriting. There’s something about going back to the original that feels truer, richer, and more satisfying. You get the whole story — not just the bits and pieces. The Church is a lot like that. If we look closely at history, we can trace the Christian faith all the way back to one small, powerful moment: the morning the tomb was empty. Jesus had risen, and