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

Or am I just desensitised and spiritually numb? (Gulp.) Last week, I accidentally watched four episodes of a dystopian thriller past midnight, told myself “just one more” like an unrepentant liar, and proceeded to wonder the next morning whether I had spiritually compromised myself. You ever get that? One moment you’re on fire for God, praying bold prayers, journaling deep confessions, making aesthetic Bible highlights with pastel markers, and the next, you’re watching some morally grey guy take down ten enemies with a fountain pen while you’re halfway through your bag of salted egg potato chips. And look. I’m not saying watching Squid Game (or any other high-stakes, morally ambiguous, blood-splattered thriller) automatically means you're one step away from the pits of Sheol. But I am saying… it messes with your head. And your spirit. And sometimes your sleep schedule. So here’s the big, uncomfortable question: As a Christian, can I still enjoy shows like Squid Game? Or am I basi...

A Christian Reflection on Power, Exposure, and Redemption. When Coldplay’s Chris Martin pointed the Kiss Cam at a couple in the audience on 16 July 2025 , few would have guessed that moment would catapult a tech CEO and HR leader into global headlines. Recognized almost immediately as Andy Byron , CEO of Astronomer, and Kristin Cabot , their Chief People Officer (both married to other people) their startled, awkward reaction turned them into viral symbols of scandal and betrayal. Chris Martin’s off‑the‑cuff joke  “Either they’re having an affair or they’re just very shy”   set the tone for a media spectacle that was inevitable and immediate . Within days, Andy Byron resigned on 19 July , Astronomer launched a board investigation, and Kristin Cabot also stepped away from her role . The company’s public statement made plain: “Our leaders are expected to model the highest standards of conduct and accountability" . In typical news accounts, the focus is on infidelity , PR fallou...

The other day I caught myself rolling my eyes so hard they nearly flew out of my skull. Why? Because a Christian influencer I follow just casually posted a story of her in Italy, sipping espresso outside a picturesque chapel, captioned with something like, “just grateful Jesus led me here.” Meanwhile, I was trying to hear God’s voice over the sound of my neighbour drilling through concrete at 8am. And yes, I was wearing the same shirt three days in a row. So. There it was: the creeping jealousy. Not holy envy. Not admiration. Plain, green-eyed, low-key-hate-following jealousy. And it wasn’t just about the lifestyle or the opportunities. It was about her joy. Her clarity. Her call. Her collagen. It made me wonder: What happens when you're a Christian... and you're jealous of other Christians? It sounds petty. It feels embarrassing. But it’s a thing. A real, ugly, soul-squirmy thing. Jealousy? In this economy? You’d think being part of the family of God would feel like a...

What mixed signals, late-night texts, and God have in common. I’ve been friend-zoned by a Christian guy. And, plot twist: I’ve also been the one who got the unexpected “ Hey, I like you actually ” message from a close male friend. At this point, I feel like I’ve earned enough emotional air miles to write this blog post with free snacks included. So if you’ve ever found yourself in a Christian-flavoured situationship, you’re not alone. I’ve been there. More than once. There was a time (actually, multiple times) when I caught feelings for a guy in church who, at first glance, seemed like he might feel the same. I mean, daily texts, long conversations, spiritual banter, mutual Spotify sharing... the whole thing screamed “ maybe he likes me? ” But the minute I dared to hope, he’d casually remind me I was just a friend. A sister in Christ . The one he felt comfortable texting about everything and nothing but never actually pursuing. You know, the “I appreciate you so much” texts withou...

(plus: yes, these are trendy and not boring, I promise) Sometimes, I think people forget Christians read actual books. Like real, beautiful, soul-pricking, heart-shaking books. Not just commentaries and prayer journals (though we love those too). This post was born out of a conversation I’ve had with a few friends recently, all of us low-key frustrated, saying, “There are so many Christian books out there, but why do I always end up rereading the same ones or wasting time on something dry and textbooky?” So I did what any opinionated Christian girl with a Wi-Fi connection would do. I compiled a list. Not just any list. A list of 12 modern, impactful, not-boring books written by people who actually live like they know Jesus. These books are current. They’re trending. They’re being underlined with real pens and posted in Instagram stories with crying emojis and quiet captions like “ouch but yes.” A few of these made me laugh, a few made me want to delete all my idols, and some just ...

I was folding laundry one night when the thought hit me like a wet sock to the face: “This is it? This is my holy assignment?” I wasn’t at a revival. I wasn’t leading a prayer ministry. I wasn’t building an orphanage, translating Greek, or planting churches across six continents. Nope. I was matching socks. (Actually, I was losing socks, which is a far less victorious story.) And for a second, it made me panic. Because everywhere I look, people seem to be doing something . Writing books. Starting ministries. Becoming "Kingdom entrepreneurs" (still figuring out what that means). Launching podcasts with cover photos that look like Netflix dramas. Meanwhile, I’m just here... surviving. Doing my job. Keeping the house semi-clean. Loving people badly-but-honestly. And sometimes, I think: “What if my calling isn’t very impressive?” When Obedience Looks Less Like Fireworks and More Like… Tuesdays We don’t say it out loud, but there’s this lowkey Christian panic going on:...