Birthday Tribute to My Sister

 2nd Birthday in Heaven

Today is your second birthday in heaven, and even after all this time, my heart still stumbles over the truth that you aren’t here. Two years have passed, yet loving you hasn’t changed at all. If anything, it has only deepened.

I think about who you were your laughter, your warmth, the way your presence made things feel steadier just by being there. I think about the memories we shared, the conversations that shaped me, and the bond that only sisters understand. There are moments when I still reach for the phone, forgetting for a second that heaven holds you now.

So much has happened since you left. Milestones you should have been part of. Moments where I searched the room for you without even realizing I was doing it. There are days I carry my grief quietly, and others when it arrives all at once, heavy and unexpected. Through it all, your absence is felt in ways words can barely hold.

I hope you are surrounded by peace, light, and love beyond anything we can imagine here. I hope you know how often you are spoken of, how deeply you are missed, and how fiercely you are still loved. I like to believe you are watching over us, guiding us in small, unseen ways.

Today, I celebrate you differently. I speak your name out loud. I remember your smile, your strength, your heart. And I let myself feel everything—because love doesn’t end, it simply changes form.

Happy 2nd birthday in heaven, my beautiful sister.
You are gone from my sight, but never from my heart.
Always my sister. Always loved. Always remembered. 🕊️🤍

Word of the Year

This year, my word is Endure.

To hold out against; sustain without impairment or yielding undergo

It isn’t a word I chose lightly. It’s not soft or easy, and it doesn’t promise comfort. I didn’t choose it because I expect the year ahead to be gentle. I chose it because God has already shown me what endurance truly looks like—and because I know now that I do not walk through hard seasons alone.

Last year, my word was healing. And healing, I learned, is not passive. It doesn’t arrive quietly and tidy everything up. Healing required honesty—honesty with myself and honesty before God. It asked me to sit with grief instead of rushing past it, to bring my exhaustion and heartbreak to Him without pretending I was stronger than I was.

Some prayers last year weren’t pretty or eloquent. Some were simply, “Lord, I can’t do this.” And yet, I was held.

Endurance was already being built in me long before I named it.

To endure is not to suffer endlessly or to push through in your own strength. Scripture reminds us that endurance is formed through trials, not apart from them. It is learned when we lean on God instead of relying on ourselves. True endurance is staying present when life is heavy, trusting that God is still at work even when we cannot see it.

Endure means remaining rooted in faith when answers are slow. It means believing that God’s timing is purposeful, even when it feels painfully delayed. It means continuing to show up—praying, trusting, breathing—when the weight feels unbearable.

Over the past year, I’ve learned that endurance often looks quieter than we expect. It looks like surrender. It looks like rest. It looks like boundaries that protect the life God has entrusted to us. It looks like choosing obedience over fear, even when the next step is unclear.

There were moments when all I could do was place one foot in front of the other and trust that God was guiding my steps, even when the path felt hidden. And He was.

This year, I am not asking God for an easy road. I am asking Him for strength to endure with grace. To keep my heart soft. To remain faithful in the waiting. To trust that He is working in ways I may not understand yet.

Endure is my reminder that God is present in the process—not just the outcome. That He refines, restores, and redeems through perseverance. That even when I am weary, His strength is made perfect in my weakness.

I don’t know what this year will bring. But I know the One who walks with me into it.

And with God’s help, I will endure not by hardening my heart, but by trusting Him with it.