On my birthday, amidst the winter chill and a blanket of serene snow, I found myself caught between gratitude and a relentless surge of self-doubt. While the warmth of family, friends, and kind wishes filled the day, an inner voice questioned every joy with a sting of guilt and uncertainty. In this reflection, I explore the paradox of feeling both blessed and overwhelmed—and the courage it takes to embrace every part of our complex, ongoing journey.

What if the most graceful dancer was trapped, endlessly performing for an unseen audience? The ballerina in my childhood music box captivated me with her flawless poise. Yet, I always wondered—what happens when the lid closes? Does she dream of breaking free from the performance she was created to perfect? Little did I know, this delicate figure mirrored a hidden truth about my own life—a silent struggle to embody perfection while keeping the messier parts of myself locked away in the shadows.

Forty months ago, I was thrust into the wilderness. I felt suddenly catapulted into my wasteland, cut off from my faith community, and left without a voice.

Over time, I accepted this fate, thinking, "A good Christian woman wouldn’t cause a scene." Yet, here I am, compelled to share a fragment of my story, hoping it might spark hope in others wandering in a wilderness, feeling discouraged by their faith traditions.