“New life starts in the dark. Whether it’s a seed in the ground, a baby in the womb, or Jesus in the tomb, new life starts in the dark.” ~Barbara Brown Taylor

It’s late summer in Nebraska, and the season is turning if you’re paying attention. The corn has lost its tender green. Goldenrod is showing off along the roadsides, and the grasses have grown tall and unruly.

Soon, combines will run after dark, trailing harvest dust over the fields and across town. Nebraska knows what is coming. The whole earth is changing, and none of it seems worried about getting back to June. It is moving toward fall, leaving summer as surely as it left spring. Nothing out here is scrambling toward an earlier version of itself.

So why are women so convinced we need to get back to ours?

I spent most of spring trying to return to the old me. It began with a run and plans to grow stronger, rebuild endurance, write more, expand my business, renew old friendships and finally do the things I had delayed.

I had so many plans.

Then, one cool April day, somewhere between one step and the next, the world disappeared. I woke on the ground, bleary-eyed and disoriented, staring through tree branches into an April sky so blue it felt rude.

Tiny buds had begun to open above me. Cool air pressed against my face. Hard earth held me. Spring kept pushing toward new life while I lay there, realizing my body had brought me to a stop.

My body stopped me before my mind got the message.

Almost at once, I began thinking about getting back. Recover. Regroup. Make a better plan. Get back to the old me.

If I couldn’t get back into shape as intended, I would get back to the me I had been before the fall. Back to strong. Back to trusting my legs. Back to waking without wondering whether my body would cooperate with the calendar.

I wanted normal, whatever normal meant. I didn’t see how much of my hope pointed behind me. I wasn’t asking what my body needed now or what this season required. I was asking how quickly I could make myself behave like the woman I remembered.

When I couldn’t, I called it a setback.

There seemed to be many. If it wasn’t another fall or syncope episode, something emotional caught me off guard. A conversation or memory would reach backward and press a finger against an old bruise.

There were things I thought I had prayed through, written through, cried through, forgiven and surrendered. I had filed them away under things I thought I was finished with. Then something happened, and there they were again, tender where I was certain I had healed.

I wanted healing and getting back to the old me to behave like a checklist:

Face the thing.

Learn the lesson.

Forgive.

Heal.

Move on.

No circling back.

Instead, I kept returning to places I thought I had already crossed. Why did this still hurt? Why couldn’t my body do what it once had? How could something bring me to my knees after I had fought so hard to stand?

Beneath every question lived one I could not stop asking: Why can’t I get back?

Getting Back had become the measuring stick for my life. If my body wasn’t where it had been, I was behind. If an old wound hurt again, I had gone backward. If I needed more rest, I was losing progress. I measured today’s Heather against a woman who belonged to yesterday.

Eventually, I asked a better question: What if back isn’t where I’m meant to go?

The woman I kept trying to return to no longer exists, but I don’t mean that sadly. She is here, folded into me. She lived a whole life on her way to becoming this woman.

She loved fiercely and got things wrong. She carried babies against her chest, raised children who grew beyond the reach of her arms, buried dreams, found new ones and survived days she thought would undo her.

She left pieces of herself in hospital rooms, kitchens, school parking lots, church pews, along highways and inside houses we once called home. She learned some things gently and others because life offered no gentler way. Through it all, God gathered every version of her into the woman standing here.

I don’t need to go back and find her. I am what became of her through the seasons just as surely as April spend it’s way into June and even now how summer is fading into Fall.

Life happened to her. God met her there. Of course she changed.

So why had I decided getting back to the old way of things was the was to go forward?

The question loosened something in me. A setback did not mean I was moving backward. Old grief did not erase the healing God had done. A body asking for something different was not betraying me.

Healing is not returning to who we were before life happened. Healing is learning to live whole and honest after it changed us.

Beneath every interruption, this truth kept rising: I don’t need to get back to the old me. I need to care for the woman who is here.

I don’t need rigid routines built for the body I had five years ago or expectations borrowed from a season already gone. I need sacred practices willing to change as I do.

Practices with room for a body that alters the plan, grief that circles back and questions still unanswered. Room for joy that looks different and rest I do not have to earn.

I need honest prayer, movement without punishment and journals filled with words I do not clean up first. I need Scripture I do not rush through for the satisfaction of a checkmark. I need long conversations, handwritten letters, good books, Nebraska sunsets, laughter and enough quiet to notice God.

Perhaps this is what sacred rhythms are for. They do not keep us frozen in place or lead us back to who we were. They keep us close to God while we change.

I spent spring chasing an old version of myself. Now late summer leans toward harvest, and I see her differently. I can thank her for what she carried. Grieve what she lost. Honor what she survived. Then let her belong to the season God gave her and turn toward the woman standing here.

Perhaps you need permission to do the same.

Finding yourself again is not about going back. It is learning to live faithfully in the life beneath your feet while staying open to who God is forming you to become. Forward does not have to mean faster. Sometimes it means growing roots deep enough to change without losing yourself in the changing.

For me, that has meant replacing the frantic pursuit of getting back with sacred practices for moving forward. Practices that keep me close to God, teach me to listen to my changing body, give me somewhere to put what hurts and leave room for whatever He grows next.

I don’t want to build my life around getting back anymore. I want to build one rooted deeply enough in God to keep becoming moving forward.

These are five practices helping me do that.

5 Sacred Practices for Finding Yourself Again

Learn to Listen to Your Body and Name What You Feel

One of the first things I learned was to separate what my body was experiencing from the story my mind immediately attached to it. A racing heart, tight chest, trembling or sudden exhaustion didn’t automatically mean something terrible was happening, so I started asking simpler questions first: Where do I feel this? Is it pressure, heat, tightness, pain, heaviness or fatigue? Then, what am I feeling emotionally?

There’s a reason similar skills are taught in Navy SEAL mental-toughness training. One of their “Big Four” strategies is arousal control: pause, breathe, think, then act, giving the thinking part of the brain time to catch up with the body’s stress response. I wasn’t training for anything remotely resembling BUD/S, but I was learning something I desperately needed: not every sensation needs an immediate story.

Sometimes my body needs care. Sometimes my heart needs tending. Sometimes they both do, but learning to notice the difference has helped me stop treating my body like a problem to solve and start learning its language.

Start Dreaming Again and Make Plans for Your Future

When did we start putting on experiation date on dreams? Becoming a midlife woman is the best time to dream. You’re old enough to have gleaned wisdom and apply it to your dreams. I still want to write books, start a side business, make plans to travel to Iceland and create retreats where the woman I love can gather around together in person.

You are allowed to have plans for the future you haven’t live yet. Remember that. The woman dreaming now knows more about grief, God, motherhood, disappointment, courage, bodies, love, and how quickly a decade can disappear.

Dreaming again is an act of hope. I make plans knowing life might rearrange them but I make them anyway because I refuse to believe becoming and dreaming have an expiration date.

Try Something New and Let Yourself Be a Beginner Again

I started watercolor.

I’m not telling you this because I’ve secretly become an accomplished watercolor artist. My incredibly gifted artist of a daughter takes one look at whatever I’ve painted when she gets home from school and says, “It’s good for a five-year-old.” Then she proceeds to explain everything wrong with the lighting, color, angles and approximately seventeen other things I haven’t learned yet.

One day she asked me why I had suddenly decided to start painting. I told her I think there was a time when I didn’t believe I had room for anything frivolous or time-consuming. When I was raising babies and little kids, free time came with guilt attached to it, and somewhere along the way I stopped giving myself permission to spend time on something simply because I wanted to.

She stared at me and said, “That is the STUPIDEST thing I’ve ever heard.”

Fair.

But she was right.

Somewhere in motherhood, I had confused giving my life to the people I loved with believing every piece of my life had to be useful to someone else. If something took time away from kids or work or whatever else needed me, guilt was waiting nearby to remind me there were more responsible things I could be doing.

I had forgotten that joy doesn’t have to earn its place in my life.

So now I paint badly. I mix colors I probably shouldn’t, get the shadows wrong and occasionally produce something my daughter generously ranks somewhere around kindergarten art class. And I love it.

We’re allowed to be beginners. We are allowed to have hobbies and dreams that aren’t practical and don’t produce anything measurable. It’s about finding the whimsy that’s tucked inside your heart. And for the record, I’ve also taken back up cycling, archery, knitting and, sending letters and cards all handwritten.

Start Journaling in a Way that Works for You

The day I held my first journal was the day my soul was born. I had so many of them but I couldn’t seem to find a way to work for me other than having 5 half used notebooks all over the house. Then I stumbled onto The Traveler’s Journal by Paper Republic. It’s a fillable system that you can design in a way that works for you. Mine is NOT from the Paper Republic due to budgets but I found a great one off of Amazon and filled with several composition books and one large journal. Together they have a monthly calendar, a placed for dedicated notes, lists, another for sermon notes, another for work notes, and another for Bible Study. The last is dedicated for daily field notes of life.

I gave my inner life a physical place to live.

There’s something about handwriting that slows me down enough to hear myself think and hush the fussiness in my soul. Allison Fallon writes in The Power of Writing It Down, “We all have infinite strategies to keep us from hearing our own voices.”

Maybe that’s why I’ve always needed pen and paper. Writing slows all the noise down long enough for me to hear what I’m actually thinking.

And research suggests something is happening beyond the page itself. Studies of handwriting have found richer patterns of brain connectivity while writing by hand compared with typing. For me, though, the evidence is much simpler: when I write things down, I notice things I didn’t know were there.

My journal has become a place where I meet myself on paper.

Break Big Goals Into Small Steps You Can Actually Begin

I’ve learned one of the quickest ways to keep myself from starting is to make the goal enormous in my head. I don’t need to write today, I need to finish the book. I don’t need to move my body for ten minutes, I need to get back into shape. I don’t need to take one step toward a dream, I need to know exactly how I’m going to make the whole thing happen.

No wonder we get overwhelmed.

Alli Worthington writes, “Tiny steps will make a huge difference over time.” She recommends taking those big goals and breaking them into smaller, manageable pieces so we can focus on the next step instead of being overwhelmed by the whole thing.

That’s what I’ve started doing. Ten minutes of movement. One page written. One email sent. One drawer cleaned. One phone call made. One small step toward something I’ve been putting off because the whole thing felt too big.

I stopped asking what I could finish and started asking what I could begin.

I don’t need to know every step between where I am and where I want to be. I need to know the next one. And when the next one still feels too big, I make it smaller.

The post The Woman You’re Becoming: How to Find Yourself Again without Going Back appeared first on Growing Boldly.

She sits at the kitchen table long after the hum of the house has quieted, fingers wrapped around a mug that’s gone cold. Outside, winter presses its face against the windows—the world wrapped in white, streetlights glowing like softened halos, the hush of snow settling over everything. It should feel peaceful. It should feel holy. It should feel like light.

But inside her chest?

It’s December, and she feels anything but bright.

There’s a certain kind of woman who knows how to smile through the ache. Who knows how to hang the garland, frost the cookies, wrap the gifts, and talk about the beauty of the season… while holding a whole storm inside her ribs. She wants everything to feel normal, steady, calm—for the sake of the home, for the sake of the kids, for the sake of the story she’s trying so hard to write with her life.

But this season holds a different kind of weight when addiction lives in the house with you.

You learn the signs.
You learn the shifts.
You learn the way the air changes before the words do.

You can tell before anyone else.
You can tell before he even admits anything to himself.

There’s a tone in the voice.
A dullness in the eyes.
A heaviness in the way the door closes.
A hollowness behind the laugh.

And suddenly the room feels smaller, the lights feel harsher, the holidays feel dimmer—like the bulbs on the tree lost their shine without warning.

She tries to make it all look beautiful anyway.
She tries to stir hope into the atmosphere like cinnamon into a pot of simmering apples.
She tries to hold her breath and hold the peace and hold everyone together.

And she is tired.
So very tired.

Because addiction doesn’t just weigh on the one who drinks.
It presses its fingerprints on the hearts of everyone who loves him.
It rearranges the emotional furniture of the home.
It changes the choreography of the days.

She feels the pressure to make things calm.
She feels the pressure to smooth out the edges.
She feels the pressure to keep the world steady even when hers is tipping.

And when the holidays come—when the world around her sparkles and sings and tells her to be merry—something inside her grows quiet. Something inside her bends low under the weight of pretending everything is fine. Something inside her wonders if anyone else sees how heavy it all is.

But she keeps moving.
Keeps lighting the candles.
Keeps whispering prayers over the sink.
Keeps carrying hope like a cracked lantern through the dark.

Some days it doesn’t matter how gentle she walks or how brave she tries to be—
the chaos in her soul just sits there.

Not because she’s broken beyond repair.
Not because she’s failed.
Not because she isn’t strong or faithful or enough.

But because she’s human.
Because loving someone in the throes of addiction is its own form of heartbreak.
Because carrying peace for everyone eventually becomes too much for one heart to bear.

And yet…

Even here, even in this unraveling, God doesn’t step away.
He steps closer.

Not with loud answers.
Not with instant fixes.
Not with platitudes that land hollow.

But with presence.
With nearness.
With a kind of quiet strength that slips beneath the cracks and holds the parts of her she can’t hold on her own.

In the soft hours of early morning when she can’t sleep, He sits with her.
In the ache of wondering how to make things better when she can’t, He wraps her in mercy.
In the moments when she feels unseen, He bends low and whispers, I see you. I am here. You do not carry this alone.

She doesn’t need to pretend with Him.
She doesn’t need to hide the tiredness or force joy when her heart feels threadbare.
She doesn’t need to be the strong one in His presence.

He already knows the weight she carries.
He already knows the fear she doesn’t say aloud.
He already knows the courage it takes to keep loving, keep hoping, keep breathing in a home marked by someone else’s battle.

And He calls her beloved anyway.
Treasured anyway.
Held anyway.

Even if December feels heavy instead of holy.
Even if the tree lights feel dim instead of bright.
Even if her soul feels more like winter than wonder.

He is the God who steps into the cold places.
The God who comes close to the brokenhearted.
The God who puts His hands on the shaking edges of her life and whispers a promise:

I am with you in this.
I am not waiting for things to be beautiful before I come.
I meet you in the mess, in the ache, in the quiet rooms where tears fall silently.

And maybe—just maybe—
this kind of presence is its own kind of Christmas miracle.

Because the miracle was never about lights or glitter or perfect moments or families that get it all right.
The miracle was a God who came down into the dark.
A God who stepped into a world fractured and weary.
A God who chose a messy manger instead of a throne—
to show her, thousands of years later, that He is not afraid of her mess either.

So she breathes.
She lifts her tired eyes.
She lets herself believe that God is not disappointed in her weariness.
She lets herself rest in the truth that she doesn’t have to hold the whole world together.

And maybe the holidays will still feel tender.
Maybe the lights will still flicker in ways that ache.
Maybe the weight won’t disappear overnight.

But she knows this now:

She is not alone.
Not forsaken.
Not forgotten in the shadows of someone else’s struggle.

God is here in the depths of it—
in the burnout,
in the pressure,
in the trembling hope,
in the quiet courage of a woman who keeps choosing love,
even when life feels like winter.

And He holds what she cannot.

The post Even Here, In The Quiet Ache of December appeared first on Growing Boldly.

I wish you knew.

I wish you could step into this body for a day—to feel the tremors that come when your heart forgets how to beat right, the pain that splinters through joints that can’t hold you up, the exhaustion that no amount of sleep can fix.

I wish you could see the notes I keep with every medication—what helps, what hurts, what makes the nightmares come.

The long list of:

“this one didn’t work,”

“that one caused night terrors,”

“this new one made me hallucinate.”

I wish you could hear the weariness in my doctor’s voice as we try again, hoping maybe this time, it will help me stay upright, stay human, stay me.

So when I came today—after you called to say my prescriptions were ready—I came with hope.

Hope that maybe tonight, I might rest.

That maybe this new combination will make it easier to breathe through the chaos my body creates.

But then, I heard it.

The whisper.

“Pill seeker.”

And I froze. Because for a moment, I wasn’t a woman fighting invisible wars inside her body.

I was a label.

A suspicion.

A problem.

I saw how you looked at the bags under my eyes.

I saw how you took in the bruises & scratches on my hands.

I saw how you noticed the shakiness on my feet.

I wanted to tell you about my teenage daughter—how we roughhoused in the kitchen last night and how her laughter left small bruises & some scratches where she grabbed my hands to twirl me.

I wanted to tell you how hard it is to show up here, again and again, and not feel shame for needing the very things that make life livable.

But I didn’t.

Especially after you told me my scripts weren’t ready.

I just smiled, pulled my sleeves down, picked up my purse, thanked you, and walked away.

Here’s the truth: your job matters deeply.

You are the bridge between pain and relief, between despair and hope.

You hold the power to help or to harm—not through your hands, but through your words.

So, please—see the person before the prescription.

See the person before the problem.

See the mother, the wife, the human who is just trying to make it through another day.

See the person living several autoimmune conditions and a pacemaker.

See the person who is ill, WANTING to be well.

And even if I was seeking pills—see the humanity anyway.

Because kindness can heal more than medicine ever could.

The post To the Pharmacy Techs Who Whispered: appeared first on Growing Boldly.

And yet, the light still spills slow across the kitchen floor.

The coffee brews. The child laughs.

Hope hums quiet between the cracks.

You stand at the sink and whisper it — half-prayer, half-plea — God is still good.

Not because the world feels steady, but because His heart never wavers.

Because even when everything shakes, mercy still rises — soft as dawn, sure as breath.

Maybe this is the gospel we pass down when the world feels hard —not that faith makes life easy, but that love makes it possible to keep showing up anyway.

We can tell our children that God’s goodness isn’t something fragile that breaks under the weight of the world.

It’s the goodness that kneels — hands muddy, heart open — to bind up wounds, to share bread, to hold on to one another when the wind howls through what’s left.

Maybe we show them that being the hands and feet of Jesus isn’t grand or loud —it’s the casserole dropped off at the neighbor’s door, the whispered prayer in the grocery aisle, the quiet giving when no one sees.

Because this is what it means to live like we believe —that goodness still grows in the soil of sorrow, that grace still seeps through the cracks, that light still leaks through every broken thing.

So when the world quakes and questions rise, we gather them close and say:

“Even here, even now — God is still good. And we can still be His love.”

The post Even Here, Even Now – God Is Still Good appeared first on Growing Boldly.

Not to keep the peace.
Not to make others comfortable.
Not to fit back into a life you already outgrew.

You’re allowed to take up space.
To change your mind.
To protect your peace.
To redefine “family.”
To heal what hurt you.
To stop apologizing for being someone God is proud of.

Growth isn’t loud.
Sometimes it just sounds like one quiet “no.”
Or a shaky “yes.”
Or the sound of your own feet walking away.

But heaven hears it.
And heaven cheers for every bold inch forward.

Keep going, friend.

You’re growing boldly — even if no one sees it yet.

What’s one thing you’re no longer shrinking for? Comment below — I’ll be cheering for you. 

The post The Courage to Take Up Space: Embracing Your True Self appeared first on Growing Boldly.

The post What Does Gratitude Look Like This Thanksgiving? appeared first on Growing Boldly.

“So, are you in?”

I stared at the words, my stomach twisting. The idea of flying to Florida to spend four days in a house with 13 complete strangers? Hard pass. That was a firm nope in my book. Surely, my husband would back me up on this.

As I paced back and forth, phone in hand, I fired off a text. It might be good for networking, might even help build better practices for my business, I reasoned. But also, let’s be real—I hate peopling.

Because here’s the thing: I’d lost faith in people.

Giving up my journalist badge had felt like losing a piece of my identity, and with it, I’d lost what I thought was my community. People I had called friends—people who had been in my corner—suddenly disappeared when I no longer had the title. I wasn’t useful to them anymore, and their absence left me wary, and guarded.

Despite years as a journalist and serving as the executive director of the chamber of commerce—where networking was part of my actual job—I loathed small talk. The endless chatter about the weather, obligatory questions about my kids, and the inevitable, “So, what do you do?” made my skin crawl. Surface-level conversations exhausted me.

So why, exactly, would I voluntarily throw myself into a house full of strangers?

I wasn’t expecting Chris to text back so quickly.

“I’ll book your flights tonight.”

Wait, what?

Later that evening, as he clicked away on his laptop, my 16-year-old daughter casually looked up from her phone and added her own unsolicited commentary.

“You need to go. You don’t have a social life and, like, no friends. And no—your best friend Liz doesn’t count. That’s like, one friend, Mom.”

Well. Alrighty then.

And that’s how I found myself boarding a plane to Florida, second-guessing my life choices and silently rehearsing excuses to back out last-minute. I probably drove Ashley, Alli Worthington’s assistant, crazy with my endless what-ifs and contingency questions. I’m sure she regretted inviting me at least a dozen times.

But here’s what I didn’t see coming.

The Unexpected Gift of Finding Your Home Team
Almost a year later, that same group of women—those 13 strangers I was so hesitant to meet? They are my people. My home team.

These are the women who keep me accountable to my goals, my dreams, and the calling God has placed on my life. These are the women I can talk shop with—who get the world of writing, business-building, and balancing it all with motherhood.

They have prayed for me through my husband’s sobriety journey. They have covered me in love and encouragement through surgery after surgery, through hard days and holy ones.

They are the ones I can show up to online, in my pajamas, with no makeup and messy hair, and feel completely seen and safe.

They are the ones I can show up to online, in my pajamas, with no makeup and messy hair, and feel completely seen and safe. (Heather Riggleman quote on friendship for Begin Within: A Gratitude Series)
I never expected to find a community like this. But I’ve learned something invaluable along the way: We all need a home team.

Even if we have to go out of our way to build it.

Why You Need to Find Your People
God never designed us to do life alone.

We know friendship is vital. We know we are wired for connection, created to live in relationship with one another. But here’s the part we sometimes forget: Community doesn’t just happen. It takes intentionality.

We have to be willing to put in the time and effort to find our people—to invest in relationships that aren’t just convenient, but deeply meaningful.

Because when life hits hard—and it will—you need a circle that will rally around you, pray for you, fight for you, and remind you who you are when you forget.

How to Build Your Home Team
So maybe you’re reading this and thinking, That’s great for you, but I don’t have that kind of community.

I get it.

I spent years convincing myself that I didn’t need close friendships—that I was just too busy, too introverted, or too burned out to put in the effort. And honestly? It felt safer that way.

I spent years convincing myself that I didn’t need close friendships—that I was just too busy, too introverted, or too burned out to put in the effort.
Because building meaningful friendships requires vulnerability. It means risking rejection. It means opening your heart to people who may not always show up the way you hoped.

But here’s the truth: The right people are worth the risk.

You don’t have to keep carrying it all, love. You don’t have to tuck it away, pressing it down deep, pretending the weight isn’t pulling on the sinews of your soul.

Because when you let someone in—when you let your heart crack open just a little, just enough to whisper the thing you were willing to keep hidden—you don’t just share the weight, you let someone else help you see. They stand beside you, their presence painting a different version of the landscape, their love turning the sharp edges into something softer, more whole.

And maybe this is the gift: we were never meant to carry the heavy things alone. We were meant to sit knee to knee, heart to heart, hands open—sorting through what can stay, what must be let go, what needs to be lifted into the light and surrendered to the mending mercy of God.

So go ahead—let a friend help you with the heavy lifting. Let them gather up what feels like too much. Let them help you hold it up to the light, up to Love. Always, always up to Love.

The post Grateful for My Hometeam appeared first on Growing Boldly.

Addiction doesn’t simply take root in one life—it vines its way into every life nearby, squeezing tight, stealing light, and leaving marriages to wonder if there’s enough thread to stitch together what’s been torn apart. Chris’ addiction wasn’t just his battle; it was ours. I thought it was mine to fight.

And oh, how I fought.

We, as women, are the rib. As the story goes in the Good Book, God made Adam a helper from one of his ribs. God shaped us close to the heart for a reason. We were created to be side by side in life. We’re made to protect, to shield, to stand as the fierce ones who guard the vulnerable places. And when the storm of addiction came crashing into our home, I did what I thought I was made to do: I fought. I shielded. I tried to mend what was broken with my bare hands.

But the truth I couldn’t see then—what my heart wasn’t ready to hear—was this: sometimes the very thing we think we’re fixing, we’re holding back.

God had to take me out of the battle.

He didn’t do it with a loud command or a thunderous voice. He did it with my body—this fragile frame that suddenly couldn’t keep up. My autoimmune disease flared until I had nothing left to give. Surgery after surgery, weakness upon weakness, the fighter in me became the one who could barely stand. I was set aside, not because I was failing, but because God was fighting in a way I couldn’t understand.

Chris watched me.

He saw me laid low, vulnerable, clinging to God’s strength because mine had long run out. And something began to break—not in me, but in him. I could no longer be his warrior, his shield, his protector. And for the first time, he had to wrestle—not just with his addiction, but with the ache of his heart. With the ache of the things that needed mending and stitched back together.

Chris had to watch me fight for my life. And in my weakness, God awakened something in him.

Addiction had dulled his heart, numbing him to the battles he needed to face. But as I fought through pain, surgeries, and the weariness of simply staying alive, Chris saw what love looked like. He saw what it meant to fight for someone who could no longer fight for themselves. He couldn’t numb this time. He couldn’t turn away. He couldn’t ignore it, and he couldn’t run from it. Not if he wanted to finally have the life he truly longed for. And in that space, God stepped in and began to heal what had been broken for so long.

It wasn’t instant. Healing rarely is. Sobriety wasn’t just about putting down the bottle; it was about picking up the courage to face shame, pain, choices, and the wounds of the past. It was about Chris wrestling with God, no longer hiding behind my shield but standing exposed, raw, and ready for redemption.

And in that holy wrestle, God wasn’t just transforming Chris. He was working in me too.

Because being set aside isn’t the same as being cast aside.

In those moments when I couldn’t fight, I discovered what it meant to surrender—not to give up, but to give over. God didn’t ask me to fix Chris. He asked me to trust Him. To trust that He sees the whole battlefield, the hearts of His children, the threads He’s weaving into something beautiful, even when all I see are tattered edges.

This is the truth that holds: sometimes the bravest act of love isn’t standing and fighting but stepping back and praying. Sometimes the most profound strength is found in surrender.

If you’re in a season where it feels like you’ve been benched, sidelined, or set aside, hear this: God is not punishing you. He is positioning you. Sometimes He has to pull us back so that He can do the deep work in the ones we love—and in us, too.

Chris’ journey to sobriety was never just his. It was God’s tender hands, shaping two hearts into something new. And the work He started in us, He will carry to completion. Because this is who He is: the God who doesn’t waste our pain, who uses even our weakness to bring forth His strength.

And as for me, the rib, the one designed to protect the heart, I learned something I never expected: even a rib must sometimes be removed so the Healer can reach the heart.

When God set me aside, He wasn’t dismissing me from the battle; He was repositioning me for a purpose only He could see. By removing me, He exposed Chris’ heart to the work that only God could do. It was there, in the vulnerable spaces, that God restored him, mended him, and made him whole.

And as God worked on Chris’ heart, He was also refining mine—teaching me that my strength was never in my fight, but in my faith.

The rib was never meant to carry the whole weight of the heart—only to guard it for a time until the Healer could step in. And in that holy space, both hearts are made new.

So if you’re weary, take heart. God is working in the waiting, in the weakness, and in the wrestle. Trust Him to hold it all—the broken pieces, the frayed edges, and the hearts you’ve been fighting so hard to protect.

Because sometimes, it’s in being set aside that we’re finally set free.

To learn more about Heather or to sign up for freebies, click the link below:

The post Marriage, Addiction, and Healing: How Faith Restores Love and Sobriety appeared first on Growing Boldly.

Imagine the peace of mind and clarity you’ll gain from knowing exactly where you stand and how to move forward with purpose. This guide will walk you through twelve powerful strategies to transform your social media presence, rooted in the insights gained from a thorough audit of your platforms. These steps will help you build a solid foundation, engage authentically, and grow your influence in today’s competitive digital landscape.

Let’s be honest: an audit might not seem like the most glamorous task. But before you shy away from it, remember that not all audits involve daunting processes or uncomfortable surprises. For busy women like you, a social media audit might not sparkle with excitement, but it’s a crucial practice to ensure your efforts are aligned with your goals and producing the results you desire.

Setting Your Goals and Objectives

Before diving into the audit itself, let’s take a moment to clarify why your brand invests in social media. What are your heart’s deepest desires for your online presence? Are you aiming to increase brand awareness, drive traffic to your website, generate leads, or build a vibrant community? Clearly defining these goals will guide every step of your audit, ensuring that each action supports your broader vision.

What is a Social Media Audit?

A social media audit is not just a quick peek at your profiles; it’s a detailed evaluation of all your social media channels to gather valuable insights and optimize your presence. It’s about identifying every social account, analyzing their performance, and ensuring they align with your brand’s identity and objectives. This audit also helps you address any outdated or unofficial channels that could impact your brand’s image.

How to Conduct Your Social Media Audit

Step 1: Create a Spreadsheet for Your Audit

Start by organizing your audit with a simple spreadsheet—whether it’s in Excel or Google Sheets. This will be your central tool for gathering and analyzing data about each social media account, from usernames and URLs to engagement metrics and content performance.

Step 2: Identify All Existing Social Media Accounts

Compile a thorough list of all your social media profiles. This includes active accounts, abandoned ones, and any unofficial profiles associated with your brand. This step ensures you have a complete inventory of your digital footprint, allowing you to streamline and enhance your social media presence.

Step 3: Assign Responsibility

Document who is currently managing each social media account within your organization. Knowing who is responsible for each platform is crucial for effective management and accountability.

Step 4: Search and Verify

Conduct a thorough search on Google and within each social platform to uncover any dormant or unofficial accounts using your brand’s name. These rogue profiles can confuse your audience and dilute your brand’s identity. Take action to reclaim, merge, or shut down these accounts to maintain a cohesive brand presence.

Step 5: Utilize Analytics

Leverage the analytics tools provided by each social network to assess the performance of your accounts. Measure key metrics such as engagement rates, reach, impressions, clicks, and conversions against your goals. Identify top-performing posts and content types to replicate successful strategies and optimize your future content.

• Instagram Audit
• Facebook Audit
• Pinterest Audit
• X (Twitter) Audit
• LinkedIn Audit

Step 6: Evaluate Top Posts

Analyze the top-performing posts on each platform based on engagement metrics. Look for patterns in content types, formats, timing, and messaging that resonate most with your audience. This insight will guide your content strategy, helping you create posts that truly connect.

Step 7: Ensure Brand Consistency

Review each social media profile to ensure consistency in your brand’s identity across all platforms. Make sure usernames, profile pictures, cover photos, and bios reflect your brand’s values, tone, and visual style. Consistent branding builds trust and enhances recognition.

Step 8: Define Your Target Audience

Clarify who your social media efforts are meant to reach. Align your target audience’s demographics and interests with your overall business objectives. Tailor your content and engagement strategies to connect deeply with your audience’s preferences and behaviors.

Step 9: Assess Platform Suitability

Evaluate whether each social network is effectively reaching the demographics most valuable to your brand. Consider the unique features and audience of each platform to prioritize your efforts where they’ll have the greatest impact.

Step 10: Consider New Channels

Explore opportunities to expand your social media presence on platforms where your target audience is increasingly active. Assess the potential of new accounts and prioritize channels that align with your business goals and audience preferences.

Step 11: Centralize Account Management

Review and update responsibilities for each social media account based on your audit findings. Ensure clear ownership and management to streamline content creation, scheduling, and engagement. Centralizing management improves consistency and effectiveness.

Step 12: Set Objectives and Schedule Future Audits

Establish specific goals and key performance indicators (KPIs) for each platform based on your audit insights. Define measurable outcomes and timelines to track progress and evaluate your strategy. Schedule regular audits—monthly, quarterly, or annually—to monitor performance and ensure continuous improvement.

By following these steps, you can conduct a comprehensive social media audit to optimize your online presence, engage your target audience effectively, and achieve meaningful business outcomes. A well-executed audit not only enhances brand consistency and visibility but also informs strategic decisions that drive sustainable growth and engagement in the dynamic digital landscape of 2024 and beyond.

Are you looking to elevate your social media strategy and maximize your online presence? Download our comprehensive Social Media Audit Checklist and Monthly Tracker, designed to help influencers, bloggers, authors, and businesses optimize their social media performance effectively. This free resource is your key to understanding where you stand currently and how to strategically plan for future growth. Download my comprehensive Social Media Audit Checklist & Monthly Calendar.

The post How To Become A Social Media Influencer With 12 Proven Strategies appeared first on Growing Boldly.

In this blog post, we’ll dive into the secrets of crafting captivating captions that will drive engagement and boost your brand’s presence on social media.

Get ready to master the art of captivating social media captions!

Psst.. want to speed up your content creation? My go-to tool for this purpose is a done-for-you 2024 Social Media Content Calendar.  With this tool you can create amazing content in no time!

1. Know Your Audience: The Key to Captivating Captions

Creating captivating captions starts with knowing your audience inside out. Understanding their interests, preferences, and desires is crucial for crafting captions that truly resonate.

Dive deep into researching and analyzing your audience demographics. Use that knowledge to tailor your captions accordingly—speak to their emotions, use language they relate to, and address their pain points.

When you connect with your audience on a personal level, your captions will naturally become more engaging and impactful.

Kickstart Your Captions with These Phrases:

• “If this speaks to you, give it a like!”
• “Tag someone who would love this!”
• “Tap for more inspiration!”

2. The Power of Puns, Metaphors, and Cultural References

In a sea of social media content, creativity is your secret weapon. Don’t be afraid to unleash your imagination and add a unique spin to your captions. Incorporate puns, metaphors, and cultural references relevant to your audience.

These elements not only make your captions more memorable but also showcase your brand’s personality. Consider using interactive elements like questions, GIFs, polls, and quizzes to further engage your audience. The more creative and resourceful you are, the more likely your captions are to stand out.

Phrases to Unleash Your Creative Genius:

• “Get ready to laugh out loud with our latest post!”
• “We’re mixing it up with a dose of creativity and fun!”
• “Discover the magic behind our brand – no filter needed!”
• Keep It Concise: Short and Sweet Captions That Pack a Punch

In today’s fast-paced digital world, attention spans are shorter than ever. To ensure your captions have maximum impact, keep them concise and to the point. Long-winded captions can be overwhelming and may cause your audience to lose interest.

Aim to keep your captions under 125 characters for Instagram, 80 characters for Twitter, and 225 characters for Facebook. Use line breaks strategically to make your captions easily scannable on users’ feeds. Remember, brevity is key to capturing and maintaining your audience’s attention.

3. Harness the Power of Storytelling

Storytelling is a timeless tool for capturing attention and forging connections on an emotional level. When you weave storytelling elements into your captions, you create a deeper bond with your audience, making your content unforgettable. Here’s how to harness storytelling to write powerful social media captions:

Humanize Your Content

Introduce a relatable character or persona in your caption. This character can be your brand, a customer, or even yourself. Humanizing your content draws your audience in and makes them feel personally connected.

Example: “Meet Jack, a busy dad juggling work and family. When he discovered our meal prep service, his evenings transformed from stressful to joyful family dinners. You can experience the same ease!”

Set Up a Problem or Conflict

Every great story needs a problem or conflict to drive the narrative. Highlight a common pain point or challenge that your audience can relate to. By addressing their struggles, you create empathy and understanding.

Example: “Ever feel overwhelmed by a never-ending to-do list? We’ve been there too. But don’t worry, we’ve got the ultimate productivity tips to help you conquer your day!”

Provide a Solution or Resolution

After setting up the problem, offer a solution or resolution in your caption. This could be your product, service, or a piece of advice that can help your audience overcome their challenges. Be clear and concise in explaining how your solution can make a difference.

Example: “Say goodbye to clutter and hello to organization with our new app. It’s designed to simplify your life and free up your time for what truly matters!”

Create a Sense of Anticipation

Leave your audience wanting more by creating a sense of anticipation. Tease upcoming content, product launches, or exciting announcements that will keep them engaged and eager to follow your brand.

Example: “Big things are coming! Stay tuned for a sneak peek at our newest collection that’s going to revolutionize your wardrobe.”

Use These Phrases to Create Storytelling Magic:

• “Once upon a time in our community…”
• “Imagine transforming your routine with just one change…”
• “Step into a world where your dreams become reality…”

4. Call to Action: Prompting Engagement and Driving Action

A well-crafted Call to Action (CTA) can be a game-changer when it comes to driving engagement. Encourage your audience to take the next step by leaving a comment, sharing your post, or signing up for your newsletter.

CTAs create a sense of urgency and motivate your viewers to engage further with your brand. Craft CTAs in the form of thought-provoking questions, irresistible requests, or direct calls to share, comment, or visit your website.

Be clear, specific, and align your CTA with the overall purpose of your post. A compelling CTA can make all the difference in transforming passive viewers into active participants.

Compelling CTAs to Encourage Engagement:

• “What do you think? Share your thoughts below!”
• “Tag a friend who needs to see this!”
• “Check out our latest blog post for more tips!”

Experiment and Analyze: The Road to Captivating Captions

There is no one-size-fits-all formula for writing captivating captions. What works for one brand may not work for another. Embrace experimentation and be open to trying different caption styles, perspectives, and tones.

Analyze metrics such as engagement, impressions, and reach to understand what resonates the most with your audience. Learn from the data and insights, and fine-tune your captions accordingly.

By constantly refining and improving your captioning skills, you’ll establish a stronger connection between your brand and your audience.

Final Tips

• Consistency is Key: Post regularly and maintain a consistent brand voice and aesthetic.
• Engage Authentically: Build genuine relationships with your followers by engaging authentically.
• Stay Updated: Keep up with Instagram’s latest features and trends to stay ahead of the curve.

By implementing these tips and utilizing these tools, you’ll be well on your way to building a strong and influential presence on Instagram. If you aren’t sure what to post and need a plan that includes:

• 93 Call to Actions
• 212 Engagement Prompts
• 12 month DONE FOR YOU Calendar (You can reuse the calendar for 2025).

Get my 2024 Social Media Calendar at 50 percent off! Happy posting!

Conclusion

Mastering the art of captivating captions is a continuous journey. Stay curious, stay innovative, and keep adapting to the ever-changing social media landscape. With dedication and the right strategies, you’ll be well on your way to achieving social media success and creating a lasting impact for your brand.

So, what are you waiting for? Let’s embark on this exciting adventure together and unlock the true potential of captivating social media captions!

The post Boost Your Social Media Engagement: How To Write Captivating Captions appeared first on Growing Boldly.