Before the Order of Business: Check Your Heart Posture I have been sitting with something. And before anybody thinks this is about them, let me go ahead and say this: I don’t know who this is for. It might be for you. It might be for somebody sitting in a boardroom. It might be for somebody leading a ministry. It might be for somebody running a business. Hell, it might just be for me. But God has been dealing with me about heart posture. Not performance. Not titles. Not how m

IT IS MY PLEASURE TO INTRODUCE YOU TO NOLIN KAI' TAYLOR Today, I am grateful. Gratefulness is flowing from my heart. And this morning, gratefulness looked like waking up with a head tucked into the crook of my neck and some little feet planted directly in my back. I don't even know how that's physically possible. But apparently toddlers are very limber. And I laid there and thought: God, thank You. Thank You for this. Because what I know to be true now is that I had to operat

HIS. PERIOD. I know who I am. God said I’m His. Period. A revelation happened today. I always knew how to be Jaxon’s mom. I knew how to be Darren’s mom. And I will admit something that has been hard for me to even understand myself: I have struggled with being Nolin’s mom. Not because I don’t love him. I love that baby with everything in me. But I have never been the mother of a neurotypical child. I don’t know this kind of motherhood. I knew how to be the mother who advocate

The Levees Broke: I Finally Cried for Jaxon P.S. before I even begin: I don't know what version of me is writing this. Yesterday, I thought I did. Lately, I have had a few mornings where I woke up and thought, Oh. I recognize this girl. She was here yesterday. That might not sound like much to somebody who has never had grief rearrange their identity every twenty-four hours, but to me, that was progress. Because for a while, every morning has felt like meeting another version

Mama Lion Is Dead. Shantrael Is Here. SHE DIED YA'LL...... I have come to realize something. And maybe I had to get quiet enough to hear it. Maybe I had to lose enough. Maybe enough had to fall apart. Maybe enough people had to leave, disappoint me, misunderstand me, stop showing up, or simply become part of a season God was closing before I could finally understand: I don't have to fight anymore. Not every day. Not everybody. Not everything. And certainly not battles God nev

We’ve Been Naughty by Being Nice Today, I met Jehovah Gibbor. Or maybe I didn't meet Him today. Maybe I finally realized who had been standing beside me while I kept trying to fight for myself. Jehovah Gibbor. The Mighty Warrior. And today? My spirit of war has been activated. Not because I suddenly want to fight everybody. Not because I'm angry and looking for somewhere to put it. I'm activated because I'm tired of watching weapons form and then questioning God because they

REVELATION There is something I need you to understand before you read this. I am not using Scripture to make my story sound spiritual. I'm discovering that Scripture has been sitting underneath parts of my story that I didn't even know how to name. That's different. This isn't me finding a Bible verse to put on top of something I already decided. This is me living something, getting quiet enough to finally understand it, and then realizing: Wait. God already showed us this.

YOUR BODY AND HEART DOES... There are moments in time when your heart stops. It breaks. It shatters. You can't catch your breath, and you don't know why. Nothing happened. No phone call came. No bad news arrived. Yet everything feels heavier. You move slower. The tears come easier. The silence becomes louder. You wonder if you're getting sick. You wonder if you're simply exhausted. Then, if you've lived with grief long enough, you stop asking what's wrong. You ask a different

Drawing Near "Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you." — James 4:8 There are nights that change your life. Not because something extraordinary happens. But because God quietly changes the way you see Him. This is one of those nights. It didn't begin in a closet. It began with a conversation. Earlier that evening, I had one of the most meaningful conversations I'd had in a long time with Family is was POWERFUL :). We talked honestly. Not to fix me. Not to convince me.

Today is day two of being back to work. My anxiety is high this morning. I couldn't quiet my thoughts, so before I logged on, I came outside to get them out of my head. Maybe if I can empty some of what's spinning inside of me, I can start the morning a little lighter. I feel like there are chunks of my life missing. Not memories. Pieces of me. When I look back over my life, caregiving was never part of the plan. I never imagined that my greatest purpose would become keeping

Please Don't Forget About Me I go back to work TODAY I've stared at that sentence for weeks, hoping it would eventually feel normal. It doesn't. People keep saying, "You're going back to work." But I'm not going back. The woman who walked out of that office four months ago isn't the woman walking back in. She left carrying one life. I'm returning carrying multiple. One son I buried. One son I buried years before him. And one little boy who still wakes up every morning expecti

Week Four, Day Six Friday, July 24, 2026 Tomorrow my son turns six. Every time I try to say those words, I have to stop. Because tomorrow isn't just Jaxon's sixth birthday. Tomorrow is the birthday of a little boy who now celebrates in Heaven. And today... today is the anniversary of the last day I believed everything was going according to plan. Because of Leap Year, the calendar aligned perfectly. It is Friday again. The same Friday. Six years later. The last Friday before

July 23, 2026 Yesterday marked eight months. Eight months since my son, Jaxon, went to Heaven. I thought I needed to do something. Instead, I did almost nothing. And maybe that's exactly what I needed. I rested. Not because everything was okay. Not because grief had loosened its grip. Not because my body suddenly felt light again. I rested because I have spent so much of my life believing that love always has to look like labor. For years, rest wasn't an option. There were me

Court Is Still in Session Week Four | Day Three July 21, 2026 Today, I left another piece of myself at the columbarium. I drove away. It didn't. I don't know if I'll ever become accustomed to walking away from the place where both of my sons rest. I don't know if there is a day coming when my feet will carry me back to my car without feeling like they're made of concrete. Every single time I leave, I feel as though a piece of my heart chooses to stay behind. Maybe that's beca

Court Is Still in Session Week Four, Day One....This week is so heavy I am doing daily post.... Today is Sunday, July 19, 2026. I have been awake since about one o'clock this morning. I wish I could tell you it was because I had so much on my mind or because I drank too much coffee before bed, but I know better than that. This week has arrived. The week. In three days, it will be eight months since my son, Jaxon, went to Heaven. Three days after that will be his first heavenl

July has me fighting for my life!!!!!! I've been in a fight with July. Not the kind where you raise your voice or slam a door. It's quieter than that. It's the kind of fight where someone you love walks into the room, and before they ever say a word, your chest gets tight because they carry too many memories. That's me and July. Every morning I wake up telling myself, maybe today won't feel so heavy. Every night, July reminds me that it remembers everything. It remembers befo

Movement I: Becoming the Patient "All rise." Those words echoed in my spirit before my feet ever touched the floor. The Court was still in session. Last week, I stood before God with my grief. I brought the evidence. I testified about Darren. I testified about Jaxon. I testified about the woman I had become after years of caregiving, burying children, surviving what I once believed would surely break me. When Week One ended, I thought I had survived the hardest part. I was wr

Before You Enter the Courtroom This is not a book about grief. This is the official record of one woman refusing to disappear. After years of caregiving, unimaginable loss, and living almost exclusively in survival mode, I reached a place where I no longer recognized the woman staring back at me. I wanted to admit myself into an inpatient wellness program, but life wouldn't allow me to leave. So instead of accepting what wasn't possible, I built the rehabilitation I needed in

To my Sweetest Jaxon, Today is seven months. Seven. The number of completion. And somehow, that feels fitting because you were born in the seventh month too. I've been sitting here thinking about you all day. Looking through pictures. Smiling. Crying. Laughing at some of the things only you and I would understand. And I realized I've never written you a love letter. So here we are. Jaxon, you were the best thing I've ever done. You changed my life on 7/25, and then you change

"I trust You, Lord. I just didn't think trust would take this long." This week, I sat staring at a blank screen. Not because I didn't have anything to say. But because I wasn't sure I had anything left to give. For months, I've written about grief, healing, grace, mercy, letting go, and all the things God has been teaching me in this valley. Usually, when I sit down to write, the words come. This week, they didn't. Because the truth is, I wasn't wrestling with a blog. I was w