Keeping the Hope Alive!

There is a passage I stumbled across in a book some time ago — and though I can’t recall the author to give credit, the words remain etched in me:

“We found each other again tonight. I could not stop looking, could not stop kissing you as though the hours might try to take you away. In the tiredness that comes after such joy, your face remains, and life has no other meaning than this. My mouth has been pressed to it as if to keep it here forever.”

These words stir something deep inside me. They fill me with hope, with longing, and with the belief that the heart I carry...big, wide, sometimes unwieldy in its capacity to love...was not created to go untouched. I believe with everything in me that God did not give me a heart so full of love without also preparing a way for it to be met, cherished, and mirrored back.

But if I’m honest, holding on to that hope has not always been easy. There are days when my brain plays tricks on me, whispering that I must have done something terrible to deserve sitting here alone. The “what ifs” creep in: What if I went wrong? What if I loved too much, or not enough? Those are the down moments that tug at me, trying to rewrite my story in ways that don’t belong.

When I step back, though, I see more clearly: it’s not that my heart was ever wrong. It’s that I was sometimes driving the wrong direction on the right road. My intentions, my love, my openness — those were true. But the environments I placed myself in weren’t always healthy, and the connections weren’t always safe. That’s a hard truth to face, but an empowering one too. Because once I recognize it, I can choose differently. Sometimes, letting go is the bravest act of love we can make — a way of clearing space for what is truly right for us.

This is where the concept of trauma bonding and nervous system regulation has been life-saving for me. Dr. Bruce Perry, whose work I deeply admire, speaks about how trauma affects the brain and body... and how consistency, safety, and rhythm are the cornerstones of healing. I practice his modalities every day with children, helping them regulate and find steadiness in a sometimes unsteady world. And yet, when it comes to my own life, I find consistency to be one of the greatest challenges. It’s far easier to offer stability to others than it is to hold it for myself.

But here’s the thing: I’m learning. Slowly. Patiently. I’m beginning to apply those same principles to my own nervous system...breathing, pausing, regulating, choosing gentler environments. And with each small practice, I’m reminded that love doesn’t disappear when old patterns do. In fact, it grows.

I have a fresh start ahead of me. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared...change always carries its shadows. But I’m also excited. Because this time, I get to build it differently. I get to choose healthier paths, create steadier rhythms, and keep loving...wildly, fully, without apology.

Because that’s the truth of it: hope is kept alive by love. Love for the small things, the overlooked things, the things we can grasp right now. Love for a sunrise, for a child’s laughter, for the smell of fresh coffee, for the courage it takes to keep believing.

So here’s to hope. Here’s to love in all its forms. And here’s to trusting that the heart God made in me...wide, radiant, deeply alive...will not go unanswered.

And so now, friends, a request for you to journey with me… I will be adding at the end of each post a call to write, doodle or simply sit with yourself for a moment.  I will be calling these:

Heartwork:

• Where in your life have you realized you were “driving the wrong direction on the right road?”
• What small practices help you regulate your nervous system when you feel unsteady?
• What do you most want to make space for by letting go?

And so... I'm sending my love to you...sometimes the work

isn't easy. And that's okay.  But, we can get better at it together. XOXO