So, if you grew up with a lot of siblings, I wonder if you've ever had this happen to you.

You go to church wearing a shirt or a dress, and someone looks at you and says, "Wait... isn't that your sister's?" Or, "Wasn't that your brother's?"

And maybe you were like, "oh no it's not."
Or maybe you said "yeah... it was lol :)"

But whatever camp you find yourself in, what's interesting is that, in some ways, the Bible works a little like that sometimes. Some stories pass along hand-me-downs, the same images, and motifs. Like they may show up in a new story, but they carry the memory of an older one from before.

And maybe just maybe... sometimes water isn't just water.

When we look at Noah's story, we see God using the flood as an instrument of judgment. The waters cover the earth, washing away the old creation, while God preserves life in pairs inside the ark. Then later in Exodus, Pharaoh pretty much commands that every Hebrew baby boy be thrown into the Nile.

The very thing Pharaoh meant to use to destroy God's people becomes the place where God preserves the life to carry... the one who will one day deliver them. And yet, in both stories, water that was meant as judgment become a vehicle God used to bring about a new beginning for His people.

What is even more beautiful is in the beginning Pharaoh meant to drown the babies in water {the Nile}. And somehow God chose to use water {the Red sea} to bring about judgment on Pharaoh and his armies. A divine reversal when Pharaoh's evil is finally judged, my friends. 

So maybe that's one of the beautiful invitations of Scripture. The same images and echoes show up again, leading us to baptism becomes a sign of washing away the old and stepping into the new.

Something about motherhood feels sacred
the Creator of the universe
choosing to partner with humans
bringing little pockets of light into the world

So when does a mom become a mother?

Is it when she gives birth
or is it when she first carries that seed
and her body begins to change?

Or is it when she’s chasing those short legs
running through life’s hallways
as the same wind reverberates
the same question in so many ways?

At what point in time
does she become a mother?

Because what about the mothers
who never got to see their reflection
in those wondrous irises
who never got to feel
those tiny hands grab onto theirs?

Their bodies did change
but the seed just didn’t sprout
the evidence that life once grew within her

Where a woman would steward a seed
then months later laboring here on earth
is no small thing

To the spiritual, adoptive, maternal mothers
who gave us legs to stand
you bear life
a generosity-tendered garden

“Be fruitful and multiply”
was the command,
and you chose to say yes

Liminal spaces are no stranger to you
waiting, becoming a mother slowly

Your body transformed in nine months
organs moving to make space
space carved into a new creature
a vessel fit to carry another human

Birthing through pain
humming to cries
serenades of “I-I-I can’t help falling in love with you”

Somehow, deep down
your brain growing
discerning which tears meant
hunger, anger, or just poop

Finally standing
this child meets the world
a sapling in a crooked world

Your words and prayers etched on pages
written in the chapters of their lives
so they don’t depart from The Way

When sleep escapes you,
you still rise to feed
tiny, always-hungry monsters
preparing plates and worshiping
an altar set in every room

Knowing exactly how much to make or bake
for today, for tomorrow
and for everyone around the table

“Wait! The taste is just not right”
you say
adding pinches of this and that
no need to think
or even measure it

Running to your lavender-honey arms
they always feel like home

For what often goes unseen,
for what happens behind the scenes
for what you do day after day
kneeling through trenches
of love and sacrifice

you said yes to those divine words
formed in our human alphabet:

“Be fruitful and multiply”

Only our Creator could bless us
with women like you

And you
you were already a mother
before that seed germinated
before giving birth

For all that you have become
all that you have written
all that you have given

thank you.

Have you ever had a conversation with someone and then they said something and you were like, wait… I feel like we talked about this before? Almost like déjà vu.

I think Scripture can feel a lot like that sometimes.

In Genesis, Abram (Abraham) goes down to Egypt because of a famine. What follows is a threat to the promise and confrontation. Sarai (Sarah) is taken, God intervenes, and Pharaoh lets her go.

Then you get to Exodus, and suddenly God’s people are in Egypt again. And when that place shows up, we should all be wondering this... what happened the last time we heard God's people were in Egypt?

Because locations in the Bible carry meaning and often when the writer tells us these details it's for us to remember them. And that question alone can help us know what's about to go down. 

So I went back to Genesis while studying Exodus and I saw a pattern. And that changed everything.  

For the longest time, I thought it was the same Pharaoh too. The same person in Genesis and Exodus. But as it turns out friends... the story in Genesis and Exodus are probably hundreds of years apart.

So maybe the bigger invitation is the text not telling us this outright. Because we're not supposed to pay attention to the Pharaoh's identity.  But really ask ourselves what did Genesis Pharaoh do that Exodus Pharaoh didn't do?

Because in Genesis, the showdown is compressed into a single verse. Just that:
[But the Lord inflicted serious diseases on Pharaoh and his household because of Abram’s wife Sarai. Genesis 12:17 NIV]

Pharaoh responds almost immediately. Nobody has to tell him that God is at work. He recognized God's power is greater than his very quickly. He did this:

So Pharaoh summoned Abram. “What have you done to me?” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me she was your wife? 19 Why did you say, ‘She is my sister,’ so that I took her to be my wife? Now then, here is your wife. Take her and go!” 20 Then Pharaoh gave orders about Abram to his men, and they sent him on his way, with his wife and everything he had.” [Genesis 12:18-20 NIV]

Then he releases Sarai and sends them away with lots of wealth.

But in Exodus, Pharaoh resisted over and over again. The confrontation stretches chapters because Pharaoh refuses to accept that God's power is greater than his own. 

The story slows down and lingers there. Yet in both stories, it involves the same kind of tension: God confronting human power.

I couldn't stop thinking about that for weeks... God had a similar confrontation with Genesis Pharaoh. But that one lasted only four verses. 

Just wild, isn't it!? 

So when you look at both stories, it almost feels like Scripture is inviting us to look at them side by side. It was the same location, the same job title (Pharaoh), a confrontation. But the thing is when God entered the picture, they responded completely differently.

And that’s the beauty of how the Bible is written. Sometimes locations and characters carry hidden easter eggs that really teaches us how to see. 

Because sometimes God often is saying something not only through what the text explains in detail, but also through what it compresses. 

And honestly, I just find that so beautiful, my friend.

Have you ever been watching a game with somebody, and then you get up for a few minutes to use the bathroom or get a snack, and by the time you come back, everything feels different? 

People are reacting, yelling, celebrating, and you're just sitting there asking, what did I miss?

That has happened recently in football. 
During the first leg of the semi final in the Champions League, Bayern and Paris Saint Germain were playing, and if you got up for even one moment, you missed so much of the game because goals were happening back to back, back to back. Everything was changing so fast, even when you were actually sitting down watching it.

And honestly, reading Exodus 2 into Exodus 3 felt a lot like that.

Because at the end of Exodus 2, Moses is still being identified as an Egyptian. And that caught my attention because that was the last time he was ever called an Egyptian in the text. 

Then suddenly you move into Exodus 3, and by the very first sentence, he is already a shepherd pasturing flocks.

And I just sat there thinking, wait, what happened?

when did he get this job?

Because the text doesn't tell you anything. 
It doesn't tell you how long had passed. 

It just suddenly drops you into a completely different season of Moses’ life. One chapter ago he was the prince of Egypt on the run after killing an Egyptian, and now he is leading sheep in Midian. Then God calls him from the burning bush.

And I was like... how long has it been? 

How long had Moses been a shepherd before God talked to him?

Then I moved to Acts 7, and that is where it tells you that Moses had been shepherding in Midian for forty years before God said I'm sending you back to Egypt.

Forty years.

God did not call an Egyptian prince. Because that person was left in Exodus 2. He didn't call somebody who had just become a shepherd for one or two years. 

He commissioned somebody who had been tending flocks for forty years.

And maybe that is the lesson in all of this. That God sent a servant as his mouthpiece who had been faithful shepherd for 40 years.

And isn't that something?

I was talking with my siblings in our kitchen, and somehow we ended up thinking very deeply about the meaning of life, the essence of life.

Translation...
food lol.

And it came from the fact that we all grew up on the island, and coming here felt so different because here they have something called "fast food."

So we started asking a serious question:
Do we actually have fast food in Haitian culture?

And strangely enough, no one could answer.

Just crickets.

Seconds passed.
Minutes passed.

And I know it sounds like a simple yes or no question, but the more we talked about it, the more complicated the conversation became.

Some argued that if something is truly quick to make, then no, we don't have fast food. Others said if anything deep fried counts as fast food, then yes, maybe we do.

Then someone brought up pâté kòde.

And honestly, the conversation got even messier. Because pâté kòde is not exactly quick to make. The dough itself is ideally prepared overnight so the pâté can be soft and delicate.

Then the smoked herring filling alone takes hours to make. You slowly build the sizzling layers with oil, garlic, parsley, green onions, and finally the herring itself. 

And if you want peppers, you can add bell peppers and hot peppers too.

But after all of that, you still have to dice the hotdogs, boil the eggs, and let everything cool.
Because if you don't, the dough will melt you'll have a volcano in hot oil... a recipe for disaster or a serious burn. 

Then finally put everything inside the dough before deep frying the pâté.

So by this point, I know it sounds like... that's a lot of work. I totally agree with you, my friend. It is.

But why are we still talking about pâté?

Well, there's something very interesting about preparing filling portions for the dough. Because in most Haitian households, we don't really measure things. Till this day, I genuinely don't know why. 

My best guess is it’s something that gets passed down through generations lol.

So we almost always end up run out of filling. And that means not every pâté comes out identical.

Some might be missing hotdogs.
Some might not have egg.
Some might barely have enough filling at all.

And strangely enough, that is where character gets tested.

Because after the pâté kòde is done, prepared, fried, and passed around, somebody eventually realizes they received one with all three fillings inside.

And somebody else did not.

And the real question becomes:
Will the person who received more share something they never earned in the first place?

And I've been thinking lately...
isn't forgiveness like that?

Something interesting about forgiveness in the The Lord's Prayer is that it says, “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

And for a long time I used to read that almost transactionally, like I forgave someone, so God You owe me and forgive me too. But is that picture really the whole thing?

Because to say that would also mean that forgiveness is somehow something we earn. 

But forgiveness is not earned. 
Forgiveness is a gift. 
Forgiveness is overflow. 

When we realize the amount of mercy we have received from our Father, completely undeserved and fully given by grace, forgiveness starts overflowing into every area of our lives. 

I started realizing that forgiveness toward others is evidence that mercy has already begun transforming us.

I know this enters interpretation territory, and I may be completely wrong. But I cannot help but notice something interesting about the word “as” in the prayer itself. The “as” almost feels like mirroring language.

Maybe it's not that fear of God withholding forgiveness becomes our motivation (before) to forgive.  And at the same time, this is not to take lightly the real warning Jesus shares in Matthew as a consequence (after) if we don't forgive our neighbors.

[For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses. 
(Matthew 6:14-15)]

Like a child can choose to obey out of fear and another child can choose to do so out of love. They both do the same thing, but only one of them gets a new heart that mirrors their Father's.

Maybe the prayer is already expecting forgiven people to become forgiving people. And that is why I keep thinking about pâté kòde lately. Because somebody eventually gets all three fillings inside. Another does not.

The strange thing is that nobody really earned it. The fillings were not distributed based on who deserved more. And the real question was always what happened next.

Would the person who received more hold onto it tightly?
Or would they tear the pâté in half and share something they never earned in the first place?

I think forgiveness works the same way. Because when we truly realize the mercy we have received from God, mercy we did not earn, something begins changing inside of us.

Forgiveness becomes overflow.

The overflow of people who realize they were first loved deeply, forgiven freely, and {filled} completely by grace. 

And maybe forgiven people begin forgiving people the same way someone in a kitchen shares the pâté they never earned in the first place.

Have you ever opened Genesis 10 and thought, why are they giving me so many names? Like, am I supposed to remember all of these? 

And if I’m being honest, for the longest time, I assumed these names weren’t that important. It felt like a long list, one after the other, from more to more to more.

But turns out, there’s more going on.

I went back and started to notice something small but important. Different translations title the chapter differently. Some will say “Descendants of Noah,” others will say “Table of Nations,” and some of them kind of sit in between, blending both ideas together. And I kept thinking, is it one or is it the other? Is this just a family tree, or is it about how the nations came to be?

I was learning that it’s actually both. 

It’s showing you how family becomes nations. And when you look at how the chapter is structured, I saw something strange too... it’s not evenly distributed. 

The same attention given to Ham is not given to Japheth and Shem. It zooms in specifically on Ham and his family line, and then moves more quickly through the others.

And when you start tracing that line, you begin to see names that feel familiar later. Egypt. Canaan. Cities and regions and people groups that are going to show up again in later stories. And then in Genesis 10:15, it says, “Canaan fathered Sidon his firstborn.” And that line almost slows the whole thing down.

Because that’s the only place where “firstborn” is mentioned like that in the chapter.

And I was just like, okay… maybe this isn’t just a list anymore. Maybe it’s highlighting something.

And what’s interesting is that Abraham doesn’t even come from that line. So why spend that much time there? Why give that level of detail?

And that’s where it clicked for me.

It’s not random.

The text is mapping something out. Especially in that section, it’s even giving you borders, how far this side goes and that side goes. The names are not just random names or names to forget. They become places. They become regions. They become the backdrop of conflict and tension that’s going to show up later in the biblical story.

So when the Bible zooms in, it’s never by accident.

It places weight where it wants you to pay attention. It’s almost like it’s saying, something is about to go downnnn here. Remember this.

And then in other places, especially in that same chapter, it compresses and moves so quickly. Almost like it’s saying, yeah this matters, but not in the same way.

So what started to look like a simple family tree or just a simple map of the nations is actually doing two things at once. It’s giving us lineage, and it’s giving us a map. And in doing that together, border by border, name by name, it’s showing us how the ancient world is being shaped.

And that’s what surprised me the most.

Because at first, it feels like a regular list. But the text is being so intentional. It highlights certain names, slows down at certain moments, and invites us to remember them.

And suddenly, what felt forgettable in the beginning becomes something foundational.

Living in between two different cultures or two different states. Have you ever had this moment happen to you?

You go back home for the holidays and people who knew you say that your accent is not as strong as it used to be. And you return to your city and people there can tell that you grew up somewhere else.

It’s not a bad thing. And the whole idea is not even about accents because accents are beautiful. But what I’m really trying to say is that, to a certain degree, many of us have hyphenated cultural identities, shaped in multiple places.

If you moved states when you were younger, or maybe countries, you don’t neatly fit into any boxes.

And just like you and me, Moses is no exception.

Moses was Egyptian by upbringing, but an Israelite by birth. So there’s already this tension in his story, this feeling of living in between worlds.

And when he saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, he stepped in—and he didn’t just beat the Egyptian. He killed him. Later, he saw two Hebrews fighting and asked, “Why are you striking your companion?”

And the offender replied, “Are you going to kill me like you killed the Egyptian?”  

But the thing is... why wouldn't they see him as one of them?

And that’s where the story takes an interesting turn.

Pharaoh finds out. Moses gets afraid and goes on the run, becoming a fugitive. And Moses end up at a well.

I read about the well and immediately thought wait... where have we heard about this before? Someone being at a well?
in John.

and who was that person too?
Jesus.

You know how parallel lines mirror each other. Something like that is happening here.

Not exact repetition—but parallelism.
And when you look forward to Jesus as the new and better Moses, that’s where the parallel becomes even more beautiful. And the story keeps echoing forward.

The moment I saw it... I was like wow wowww. 

Moses is at the well → he gets water for the flocks (physical water) → identity is being formed → and he gets married (bride/covenant).

Jesus is at the well → He offers living water → identity is revealed → and a spiritual covenant family is being formed.

And there’s something so beautiful happening there.

In Scripture, wells often become places of transition. Places where people step into a new season, a new identity, or covenant relationship.

Moses had to go through this journey, and the well became that in-between place where transformation started.

The biblical stories echo each other in really intentional ways. So when something in Scripture feels familiar, sometimes that familiarity is the invitation itself... to pause and {dig} deeper. 

 
Turns out... the Exodus story keeps moving forward through women too.

And once you start seeing that pattern, you cannot unsee it.

I remember looking at Old Testament laws and thought they're about oppression. The argument was really the same... the way dowries worked. But the truth is these laws were actually placed within a broken society to bring protection where there was none, especially for women. 

Exodus became that turning point for me a couple years ago. 

Because in this passage, you see Miriam, likely a young girl, watching her brother placed in the river. No one tells her what to do. God doesn't give her explicit instructions. But somehow she stays. She watches. And when the moment comes, she steps forward and speaks. She helps create the very situation that allows her brother to be raised by his own mother.

Then you see the midwives. They are told by Pharaoh to kill the newborn boys, and they refuse. Their fear of God outweighs their fear of Pharaoh. In that moment, they quietly defy the plan of an entire empire. 

And then there is Pharaoh’s daughter. Her role is like a rug being pulled out from under Pharaoh when he least expects it. Because of her, Moses is raised inside the very house that ordered his death. She sees a child and refuses to participate in the system she was born into. She chooses compassion and raises him as her own.

When you step back, the pattern becomes clear. The Old testament honors women. Through the midwives, through Miriam, and through Pharaoh’s daughter, Pharaoh’s plan begins to unravel.

And I want to be careful here, because this is not to say that the work of Moses and Aaron was not important. It was. God used Moses as a deliverer. He called him into leadership. There was weight in his obedience and responsibility.

But Moses would never have been alive, and would never have stepped into that calling, if it were not for these women.

Because you begin to see that both genders are not in competition. One is not elevated at the expense of the other. Instead, there is a pattern. God uses both. He weaves both into the story in ways that are distinct, but very much needed.

There is strength on both sides. There are limitations on both sides. And somehow, in his way, he brings it all together to carry out His plan.

The women are not always given explicit instructions. Yet they move with awareness. They act with courage. They step in at the exact moments that changes everything.

And maybe that is what we miss. Because to say that the Old Testament is not for women is to overlook so much beauty that is already there.

In a culture that was broken, God was present. 
He was working within it, shaping it, and using women to quietly subvert it.  Through moments of courage. Through small, choices behind the scenes.

And maybe that is the beauty we miss when we only read through a modern lens. Because the moment we read it through a 21st century lens, we risk missing out. When we expect the text to highlight both genders in the same way.

Because when we step back, we can see that the Old Testament is just as much for women as the New Testament reveals through women like Lydia, Mary, and Martha.

i keep leaning on this thought 
over and over
somehow that was true then

it came for everyone
back then
back there
back in Egypt

Israel wasn’t innocent
Egypt wasn’t the only one guilty
every door in Egypt was guilty

and maybe
that’s why He gave those instructions
for His people’s doors
to be marked different

so Israel’s firstborns
would be spared

because when the destroyer comes
even they too
would be found wanting

the Passover lamb somehow
the clearest brush of redemption and grace
on their doors

a substitution
dying as them
so they would be found innocent

because when the destroyer comes
justice just won’t skip doors

God can’t break His own standard for justice
if Israel’s doors were to be skipped
conveniently
innocently
without the mark of the lamb

would that mean
He is actually just?

but the Passover lamb
carves His way into the story
as a substitute for sin
so it seems

then fast forward
to Jesus too

a substitute for sin
coming to live and die
100% God
100% human

that somehow
He would take on Himself
the sin of the world
our nature upon His shoulders

so that we
would be found just

could it be
that justice
was personified as the destroyer?

and there’s no exception in this story
not for any of us really
you and I and everyone in between

none are just as we are

the next scene replaying
the same truth on repeat
in the old and new testament

decentering us as the main character
grace covers our doors
by the blood of the lamb.

I realized the craziest thing one time. There’s an ice cream sandwich in the Bible. 
So if you look at it closely, Exodus and Numbers are almost like mirrors of each other. 

In Exodus, the Israelites are freshly out of Egypt. They’re free, but they don’t trust God yet. They complain about food. They question Moses’ leadership. At one point, they even say they want to go back to Egypt. And then comes the golden calf, the ultimate act of rebellion.

Then you get to Numbers, and something strange happens. You start seeing the same story again. They complain again. They question Moses again. This time they even try to stone Moses and Aaron. The spies go into the land, and just like before, most of them come back afraid and spread fear through the camp.

It’s like reading the same story twice. 

The inner layer match, the outer layer match: this flow becomes A -> B -> C -> B' -> A'
And right in the center of those two books, sits Leviticus (the middle is different).

For a long time, I used to think Leviticus was just a book of rules placed in the middle of the Bible. But it’s more than that. Leviticus sits in the middle because God is teaching them how to live free, so they wouldn’t replicate the same brokenness they had just come out of.

God wasn’t just trying to give them land. He was trying to set them apart. So that the nations would look and say: 
Wow!! Who is their God?

Then you see the story keep building because it's bigger than them too. So they would become an example to the other nations. 

So now when I think about that ice cream sandwich in the middle of the Bible, I don’t see a strange structure anymore. God teaches in the middle of Israel's story in Leviticus. Then giving them another invitation to be different and respond differently in Numbers. A God full of love, mercy, grace and second chances for His people in the old testament friends.

And maybe it was in the middle of the ice cream sandwich all along.

a question danced in my thoughts
the moment i learned
something from the pulpit
that the story was about two lost sons

one was lost in his goodness
and the other in his badness

i heard it with new ears
that the father ran lifting his dress

the father 
cared so much about restoration
while the older brother
cared more about reputation
i learned

and it's interesting right
how could we miss that
how did i missed that before

that day my eyes were finally opened
both longed for the same thing
what the father had
and not the father himself

so both were lost
both were outside the house

then came the question 
i can't stop pondering
what if the older brother 
had met him on the road first?

well 
we'd probably all take the right guess
while we wait here in the suspense

tears stream down my pen
cause i picture him standing
arms crossed saying
what are you doing here?
do you think Dad wants to see you 
after all you've done to him!

i know this is me filling in the blanks
on a text that is sacred

but i mean no disrespect
painting his brother heart
in 21st century terms
all to say this my friend

he probably would 
never known that love
was waiting for him at the table

but the father had found 
the rebellious son first
clothing him in mercy
and prepared a house party

then the father went out back outside
to fetch the older brother 
blinded by self-righteousness for prison

explaining his heart's reasoning
to go out and find his lost kin
but what did his brother say after?

well we just don't know 
what came out of his lips
turns out the story required 
active participation

leaving us with this mirror
to stare at our reflection so it seems
would the audience hearing 
go into the house themselves?

and now for some reason
i can't help but see too
the letters written by Mr. Screwtape himself
to his nephew Wormwood

about a son blinded by legalism
so much he thinks he's better
than his own mother

isn't that the trap?

falling into religion and not realizing
that you're also in sin
one you can't see like outright rebellion
but in truth also a dangerous poison

both sons were in need of the father
both sons were outside the house
one stepped inside
while the other didn't

which camp do we find ourselves in?

well we each have our default settings
and there's no exception 
but are we aware of the log there planted
a shadow for the life giving tree

in our hearts redemption is knocking
it's not an old story
and no man not one is righteous
that's why He came 

this story began long ago in the garden
a tree is what is all started with
and He was nailed on another
to make us a son and daughter.

Growing up, my teachers read straight from the KJV. That’s where all the Sunday school lessons came from. And honestly, I think that was a gift. 

Because later, when I started reading translations like NIV or NASB, I felt even more excited — like rediscovering something I already knew but seeing it with words I could understand. Not with thee lol.

Suddenly, I started noticing how sometimes Scripture leaves certain details quiet while emphasizing other details loudly.  Almost like they’re in a bright yellow highlighter. 

Then pictures of the cross started to show up everywhere, even before Jesus came. 

Like when I was rereading Genesis this year. I kept looking at details that were left out. I saw something wild!

Nowhere in Genesis Noah warned people or evangelizing the way children’s stories often show. I was like wait, it is here somewhere!!! I shall find it!!! But I couldn't find it in Genesis.

I’m not saying it didn’t happen — Because in the New testament they do make some references to Noah. What I’m really saying is that Genesis itself doesn’t put weight there.

Instead, God spends so much time giving Noah detailed instructions about building the ark. And that honestly stopped me. 

Because when God gives details, I don’t think it’s random. In Genesis, it talks about how wide the ark was, how high it was, how everything should be built. 

And I kept asking myself — why would Scripture leave out whether Noah preached and instead focus so heavily on the ark itself? The only thing I keep coming back to is redemption. 

Noah was building something that God would use to redeem the entire creation. There's even a cool word for it too: Synecdoche (pronounced si-NEK-duh-kee), where a part of something is used to redeem the whole.  Like the ark contain specific pairs of animals inside, and Noah's family — that God would use to preserve creation. When I found out about this symbolic layer, I was like whoaaa whoaaaa. 

Another thing I kept noticing is how numbers carry weight in Scripture. Forty often represents testing or divine judgment. And in Genesis, the ark is described as 50 cubits wide.(Genesis 6:15)

Measurements used to make me want to skip ahead — but when I slowed down, that horizontal image really stood out to me. It felt like a picture of humanity held together, preserved inside this vessel God designed — humans, animals, creation, all together.

Then when I jumped to Esther, I saw the same number again — 50 cubits — but this time it was vertical. Haman builds a pole meant to destroy Mordecai, and that very structure becomes the place of his own judgment.(Esther 7:9)

What he intended for evil turns back on him. And I couldn’t help but see divine reversal, divine justice. The horizontal in Genesis reminded me of our relationships with each other and creation, while the vertical in Esther pointed toward God’s justice.

And I know not everything is meant to be forced into symbolism. But I can't help but see the cross in that picture

And more and more, I keep God’s heart for humanity — woven into stories I once thought were mostly about judgment.

So my encouragement to you is simple: keep reading your Word. Come into it asking God for a fresh perspective. Ask Him to open your eyes to see His heart. Because the more you slow down, the more alive it begins to feel. And even if my interpretation isn’t perfect — and I know it may be completely wrong on how I'm seeing come of this.

But I can't help but think still the details God leaves in, and the details He leaves out, are intentional within the bigger story that leads to Jesus.

And honestly, that wonder alone keeps drawing me back to open my Bible again and again.

I’ve always loved the analogy of a ship on a voyage. When you think of a ship, you think of the storms it’s come through, the repairs it’s needed, the wood being replaced over and over again. And at some point, you have to ask: is it the same ship — or a different one?

Different people will tell you different things. Some will say yes, it’s the same ship. Others will say no, it’s a different ship.

That’s how I think about my writing in 2026.
A different ship.

My message — the reason I write — has narrowed down this year. It’s for that one girl who is crying to herself, struggling with insecurity, her mental health, and adulting. So she knows she is not alone — that somebody before her was there, and somebody else made it out. And to show her that in all season God will carry her.

I’m looking back, looking forward, looking sideways in my life story. It’s close and intimate, and since these are things I’ve already processed, faced, and conquered with God and community. One of the things I've been doing since January is removing all the dates at the top or bottom of my writings. I want one girl to come to the words and immediately know she is seen.

God has been using my voice and for that I'm so honored and so grateful. One person said “I’m waiting on something too.
Another said, “I struggle with people-pleasing — how do you stop forcing friendships?”
Another said, “You stay present and pause. How do you always make me feel seen?”

We spoke outside the page — conversations filled with prayer, hope, and honesty. And I realized this is bigger than me. What if I had sanitized my poems? writings? What if I pretended I had never been there?

Now my writing isn’t just about myself. It carries the stories of the women who reached out to me, the quiet courage behind their messages. My writing is raw, honest, and my hope is to connect with one girl. 

Because if I don’t look forward, backward, and sideways in my life story, how can I bring somebody else along with me? 

I want to live a life that is not just for myself, but one that walks with other women facing these things. I am healed. I am whole. But wholeness means you testify about where you’ve been.

“Return home and tell how much God has done for you.” — Luke 8:39 (NIV)

The woods in my ship has changed. Not suddenly — but piece by piece, through seasons of growth and surrender. We're not going backwards but looking ahead. Liminal Letters is narrowing — not shrinking, but focusing. Leaning into a clearer vision: to point one girl through my life story to Jesus through the Heart Call.

I’m choosing to let go of timestamped Letters.
Trusting that one girl after another will step into the words as her present reality — and realize there is more on the other side of what she’s facing.

And this is the new ship I’ll be steering with God this year. Same name but a new vision.

xoxo,
Lynn :)

You know, it’s interesting how God’s Word speaks to us in ways we don’t always expect. Especially when we ask the Holy Spirit to open our eyes to see.

For the longest time, that phrase used to confuse me. 
Open your eyes to see? I thought, I can read. I can see the words on the page. 

But the reality is, I wasn’t coming to the text empty-handed. I was coming with assumptions—with what I already wanted it to say. 
I was imposing my worldview onto the text instead of letting the text speak for itself.

It’s kind of like watching a movie right now. You understand what goes without saying. You pick up on all the cultural context—the hidden jokes, the easter eggs. 
But then you come to the Bible—this ancient text—and you bring that same 21st-century lens with you. Without realizing it, you miss things.

For me, I was never scared of the Bible not being about creationism versus science. That debate is bogus baloney to me. Because a few years ago, my eyes were opened to something different: that Genesis isn’t about how the world was made—it’s about God bringing chaos into order.

And once I started seeing it through Eastern eyes instead of Western ones,
I was able to step back and let the text speak. That perspective change required a lot of unlearning. Because many of the stories we hear growing up come with assumptions baked in.

Sometimes these stories become so familiar that we assume we already know them. We stop expecting to learn anything new. But Scripture is living. 

It keeps speaking—if we let it. 

Take the Garden of Eden, for example. For the longest time, I thought there was just one tree. I never realized there were two trees—the Tree of Life and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil—until I slowed down and actually read the text itself. When I saw that clearly in Genesis, I was like, Whoa whoa

And what really grabbed me were the patterns.

I’ve been reading Genesis 5 this week, I started noticing how repetitive it is in a very specific way. Over and over again, the text tells you: this person was this age, then they had their firstborn. After that, it tells you how many years they lived in total. 

The same rhythm. Again and again.

X lived ___ years and begot Y (firstborn highlighted)
After he begot Y, X lived ___ years and had other sons and daughters
So all the days of X were ___ years, and he died

I think the old me would’ve skimmed it and thought, Why are they listing all of this? boringggg, lets skip to the Jesus part!

But I kept reading. Then I got to Noah. And for the first time, the pattern breaks.

All of his sons are listed together. There’s no firstborn taking priority. No familiar formula. And I remember thinking, Whoa. There’s something there. There’s something there. I got so excited.

I was learning that up until that point, Genesis is tracing one family line—genealogy, inheritance, firstborns—all the way to Noah. But once you reach Noah, the firstborn isn't emphasized because it’s no longer just about one family. 

Now it’s about all of humanity. God is about to use this family not just to continue a line, but to move His mission forward for the whole world—re-creation.

And that realization blew me away.

How intentional is God, using patterns, and then breaking them.
Yet I had read this before and never caught it. Seeing it now felt like discovering a whole new layer that had been there all along. 

And that's how to see what you’d missed before. Slowing down long enough especially when it gets boring. At least that's what I've been learning.

sunflowers go low
bending their body to
just get a glimpse of Sunlight

the reality is
their crooked back
never meant weakness
needs no straightening for strength

what a picture of life
telling us
a thousand words in one branch

even when they’re taken
out of the Sun
out of the soil
they used to call home

sunflowers curve their bodies 
just a little east in the garden
to their Creator
always.

the greatest battles are invisible
minefields, cannons, minds
me vs. them, a great divide
frontlines running through our chests

so, what if our hearts are too hard?
what if we got the order wrong?

the invisible enemy comes for us:
"look at them..." he whispers
clothing us with bitterness
forging our hearts into stone

shouldn't people be our hearts?
grace and truth canoeing in tandem
less about party, more than opinions or positions

aren't people also our champions
ears that see stories, mouths that water seeds
cultivating surrounding fields?

what if we got the order wrong?

maybe the good life
the new kingdom order
isn't our likeness of to be in power
where running the race isn’t me versus them

this harvest, if not the next 
can rain fruits like no other
with justice and love 
birthing a new world order
right below our star spangled banner

adding salt, respecting each other
with hands that thirst to sow
replanting upside down living with triangle signs 
Jesus raised on the Sermon on the Mount

if we remember the two calls: 
love your enemy and pray for them
the very order our hard hearts keep forgetting
then, do that too for your friend 

but we chose to ignore the first one
as easier said than done
won’t we just settle for a small feast?
when our host wants to loosen our fists
freeing us from hunger to be right

none will leave unscathed by echo chambers
whiplashing anger, just indeed murder
devaluing all other thinkers as cockroaches
crushing them beneath our feet

the enemy does delight in division
our debates as we shout, "yay! nay!" for wall partitions
worshiping blue or red savior from defensive positions

to prove we have the right answer, 
we dehumanize each other
hiding both God and our neighbor

and still we think our world can be fixed 
only if this party would reign
only if we held the reins
then, we'd have real order

what if we got the order wrong?
what if our hearts are too hard?

now, aren't we just like them
those we profess to be never
bitter, hard hearted, just… stone cold

what if we got the order wrong?

forgetting our neighbor
forgetting our Father.

isn't it harmless
our house foggy in rearview mirrors
blinded by should've, could've 
long lost sisters

weren't You there Father, not further
next to me that summer
sitting on Mrs. Pain's porch 
sipping sweet honey chamomile tea?

did You rock me to sleep on that old dodine chair?
eyes opened, eyes closed
your smiles memories wander 
so I wonder
uncle, grandma, the others if I could have loved you better

isn't it harmless
Mrs. What-if staring at our driveway
shaking her head, asking for different footprints

maybe just maybe
should've said I'm here more
could've held your hands a little tighter
the way a child clutches candy wrappers

isn't it harmless
our GPS saying on the narrow road with 
no ETA or apologies near

I ignore getting rerouted over and over
but do I really know the best way there?
who are You to tell me
turn left or make a U-turn?

isn't it harmless
memories sitting in our living room
replaying the old rejection tune

tear-soaked pillow choir sing
our familiar refrain
to be human is to bleed a little always

isn't it harmless
being overlooked again
your words
no volume. no reply. nothing but vapor

were we made for a different world?
growing pains hardly normal
old wounds keep tingling like they're fresh
living in-between not quite there yet

isn't it harmless
open hands holding out your heart
trading trauma for a connection

but what do I do with hands still empty?
a love time stole away
burning palms left hanging
waiting for a sorry that never came

You forgave without hearing a sorry first
forgive them for they 
do not know as Your anthem

You're 100% man, 100% God
could one man ever attempt?
but You did say we have a helper

isn't it harmless
loving as Jesus did
no ceiling. no limits.

a threshold few are willing to travel
uprooting pride takes wine-red sweat
yet suffering is our path to die
looking like our savior

they say true love means sacrifice
not an emotion, but real action
clinging our gravitational center 
to something greater

digging through muddy wells
with strong natural fiber
manila ropes anchoring our waist
discovering no limits. nothing wasted.

we pour from newly stretched wineskin
to love with a tight yet loose thread

isn't it harmless
isn't it harmless...
still think it’s harmless?