Seen and Understood: For the Quiet Ones With Loud Inner Worlds

You’ve probably seen it stitched on throw pillows or captioned under sunset beach pics: “ Live life to the fullest. ” Cool. But what on earth does that even mean? Is it skydiving at 80? Quitting your job to travel the world? Drinking overpriced smoothies that taste like wet spinach and regret? I used to think living life to the fullest meant checking things off a bucket list like a productivity freak with a death wish. Hike Machu Picchu? Done. Eat gelato in Rome? Done. Feel vaguely unfulfilled while staring at a breathtaking view because you’re still thinking about your Instagram angle? Also done. But something about all that “living” felt... hollow. Not to be dramatic (okay maybe just a little), but if you’ve ever flopped on your bed after a “dream trip” and thought, “That’s it?” you know what I mean. This blog post is not your average fluffy “just follow your heart” pep talk. I’m writing this because I think the whole living-life-to-the-fullest thing has been hijacked by hustle...

There’s this girl I follow online who wakes up at 5am, fasts twice a week, never misses a morning quiet time, and journals her prayers in three different colors of gel pen. She’s always saying things like, “God gave me a word this morning during my 2-hour devotion” and honestly? I don’t know whether to clap or cry. Because on most days, I’m just trying not to cuss at my WiFi for cutting out again. Or zone out mid-prayer. Or scroll Instagram while pretending it’s “rest.” And here’s the weird truth I’m kinda scared to admit. What if I’ll never be that strong Christian? What if my spiritual life always feels a little wobbly? A little inconsistent? A little… messy? This one might flip your definition of “strong” upside down. You might leave feeling closer to Jesus than you thought. There was a season where I believed strength in faith looked like performance. Consistency. Memorizing Leviticus just for fun. Crying every time Hillsong came on. And honestly, I tried. I tried to read the...

The Christian question I never wanted to ask out loud North Koreans aren’t cartoons. They aren’t headlines, or dark joke material, or characters in a dystopian movie we’ll never be part of. They’re people. And recently, I sat down and read more than I probably should have. First-hand escapee accounts. Starvation. Indoctrination. Families torn. Generations raised to fear, not dream. It wrecked me. And not in a neat, “wow I’m so grateful for what I have” kind of way. More like, I wanted to slam my laptop shut and shout at heaven. Why does God allow suffering? Why does He let this happen? And if you're reading this, you’ve probably asked it too. Maybe not about North Korea. Maybe about cancer. About that car crash. About something that still haunts you every night, while the rest of the world scrolls past and forgets. I used to feel so guilty even wondering about this. Like it made me less Christian. Less faithful. Less trusting. But I think that’s a lie. I think the real question i...

I once almost moved to Bali because I had a really good cup of coffee and the beach smelt like freedom. I stood there, arms stretched, hair tangled, heart pounding like a Hillsong bridge, and thought this is it . This is my destiny. I was ready to book a one-way ticket and start a coconut business called "Thy Will Be Done (on Earth as it is in Bali)." Fortunately, I didn't. Because five days later, I got a mild sunburn, a mosquito bit my eyelid, and I wanted to go home to my bed, my aircon, and my overpriced Singapore bubble tea. So… should I follow my emotions? Or not? Spoiler: sometimes they lead you to worship God in a field with tear-stained cheeks. Other times? They lead you to text your ex at 2:17am while eating cereal with your fingers. Welcome to the Christian life, where feelings are real, but not always right. And that, my friend, is where the plot thickens. What Are Emotions, Really? Emotions are not bad. They’re just not boss . They’re like children in...

You ever had one of those moments where everyone in the room says yes, and you feel God pulling you into a quiet, uncomfortable no? I have. Multiple times. And let me tell you, nothing makes you sweat through your socks faster than being the lone person who won’t budge "for the sake of unity." Especially when that unity involves sweeping values under the rug like a bunch of dirty socks at a sleepover. But here’s the crazy part… holding your ground (biblically) might be the very thing that makes you a good leader. Even when no one claps. Even when they roll their eyes or worse, pat you on the head like you’re some moral toddler with too many convictions and not enough real-world experience. The surprising connection between Daniel in Babylon and you in your Monday morning meetings… keep reading. When compromise looks cooler than Christ Let’s be real : compromising makes life smoother. It oils the machine. It keeps the budget meetings on time and the group chats calm and em...

Spoiler alert: this isn’t one of those nice, neat blog posts with a bow on top. This is the weird, messy, spiritually twitchy one. So if you’ve ever secretly watched The Conjuring and then Googled “does liking horror open the door to demons,” you’re exactly where you need to be. It started, as most questionable habits do, innocently enough. A Friday night. Popcorn. Netflix. Just me and the flickering blue light of some haunted house movie I probably shouldn’t name. I remember sitting there frozen under a blanket, not because I was cold, but because I’d heard that sound. You know the one. The sudden violin screech. The “Don’t go into the basement, why are you like this?” kind of sound. I was simultaneously scared out of my mind and wildly entertained. And then, out of nowhere, the guilt wave. Like. Wait. Should I even be watching this? The Christian-Horror Dilemma No One Talks About There’s a part of me that loves darkness. Not in the worship the devil kind of way, just... the storyt...