I’m noticing how much my hormones change my faith. I know this is a problem other women have. I’ve started to see more Christian women connect how to treat your practice within your cycle. It’s quite fascinating, and I’ll link to good resources as I come across them.

I think a bear was moseying around the RV last night. I didn’t see anything, but something BIG woke me up in the early morning. It was brushing the paddleboard I have resting against the unit. I couldn’t see any sign of it when I woke.

Education for the soul

I spent last evening writing an essay for an application I’m making to a program on Spiritual Direction. I’ve needed this myself the most, so it seems only fitting to go get some structured training.

I’ve never felt clearer about the path educationally that I’m going to take. Where it’s not something that might get me richer or more “successful” but that feeds my soul and my being in ways only I and God can see. It’s why I’m just starting applications for a Master’s in Divinity.

For years, I hemmed and hawed about an MBA or an MFA (I still would LOVE an MFA, though). But, nothing felt exactly right. An MBA felt creatively crushing, and it wasn’t worth it to me financially if it wasn’t a Top 10 school. An MFA also felt more clear, but then there was so much work to put a portfolio together (I was working in corporate, and my portfolio was weak at best). And ultimately, I just felt that you didn’t really need it to be an artist. I was already an artist. I just wanted to start making money from my art. An MFA doesn’t really teach you that. From everyone I spoke with, It’s really just a good two years to make. I wanted to start the race already, not keep practicing.

But a Master’s in Divinity? Never. Never ever did I see that coming. I didn’t even know what that was a couple of years ago. I didn’t know you could do that. I didn’t know the impact. I’ve always loved the esoteric, consciousness, philosophy, religion, and just simply the abstract, but I didn’t know there was a degree like this.

There are two people now who have impacted the course of my spiritual development. Both women. Both holding MDivs. Both people I look at and say, I want something you have. That’s what a degree program should do. You have to like the outcome it produces. You have to say I want something they have and go the path because of that. If you don’t like who’s been produced by the program, seriously, don’t do it. If you don’t like what they have or don’t see anyone you want to be like, it’s not for you. That took me a long time to learn about graduate degrees.

It’s why I do still think I’ll go get an MFA at some point too, but we have time and I’ve changed so much about what we would go back for. A year ago it might have been painting. Right now I would go for photography.

Surrending to The Divine

I’m reading the Bible, cover to cover. I’m still only on the Book of Genesis. I have a study Bible, so it has a lot of other text that really helps with explanation and analysis. I’ll take my time.

Last night, I came across the story of Sarai and Abram. Sarai and Abram were married and wanted children. Abram was incredibly important as the father of Judaism. He led the Jews.

God tells Abraham to leave everything he knows and promises him a family as countless as the stars, even though he and Sarai are old and childless. But, they don’t believe God and they try to force it a little. It was customary at the time to allow your husband to sleep with another woman if you could not bear children. The child would be Sarai and Abram's, even though it was from another. So, Sarai, in her impatience and her disbelief in being able to have children, gives her maid Hagar to Abram, and that’s how Ishmael is born.

But God keeps saying, “No, trust Me. Sarai will have a son.” God later changes their names to Abraham (“father of many”) and Sarah (“princess”), reaffirming that Sarah herself will bear a son. And, when angels show up and say it out loud, Sarah literally laughs because she’s ninety. But sure enough, she gives birth to Isaac, which means “laughter” in Hebrew.

Abraham and Sarah’s story in Genesis is basically one long lesson in faith, waiting, and laughing in the miracle of the “impossible”. Their life is this mix of divine promises, human impatience, and moments where faith gets tested.

Through it all, the story keeps circling back to the same thing: God’s promises don’t need our shortcuts, and faith often looks like walking into the unknown, waiting far longer than we’d like, and somehow still laughing when the miracle shows up. It’s trusting in the ability of God to bring forth what feels impossible. It’s trusting the divine timing and knowing that when our will and God’s will align, the thing (whatever it might be) will happen.

It’s a reminder that in God’s covenants with us, we are asked only to be patient, to wait at the door for the package to arrive, and sit in our continued belief of it arriving. Faith sometimes looks like opening your heart to something that feels ridiculous until it’s real. And, deep joy often comes on the other side of long, hard waiting (and it’s sweeter because of it).

It’s a reminder that God often calls us to see ourselves beyond our immediate circumstances. To step into the bigger story that He, the divine, is writing.

It reminded me of my own longing, maybe disbelief, that God will give me children of my own. I’m scared, as Sarah was. I’m pushing 30. I’m told often that my “clock is ticking”. I hate that society does that to us women.

Sarah’s story is full of moments where she tries to control the narrative because she’s scared of being barren forever, scared of losing status, scared that God’s promise might not actually come through. Giving Hagar to Abraham was her attempt to manage the outcome herself, and later, when Hagar became pregnant, Sarah’s jealousy and fear flared.

Even the episodes where Abraham passes her off as his sister show how vulnerable she felt moving through the world. Her journey is one of slowly releasing that white-knuckle grip on life, learning that God didn’t need her manipulation to fulfill His promise. Letting go meant trusting that she was seen, protected, and chosen even when she felt powerless.

In the end, her story shows that control born from fear only delays peace, but surrender makes space for the miracle. 

It made me hopeful that even if I get to old age without children, God can still bless me with what my heart desires.

I’m reminded today to hold the posture of surrender. To know that life moves best when I unclench my grip. When I trust that what’s meant for me will arrive without scheming or forcing. Not out of fear or control. Not out of manipulation or self-preservation. The story of Sarah shows me that real peace and fulfillment come not from controlling outcomes, but from letting God write the ending. 

With Love,
Val