I grew up the youngest of nine children who were homeschooled in a Christian household. My parents ensured we were being filled daily with Scripture and prayer and attending church and youth groups. When I was around 6 or 7 years old, I remember talking with my mom before attending a children’s ministry and accepting Christ into my heart. This was a monumental moment for me, and I dived into learning about Jesus and growing my faith throughout elementary and middle school. As I learned more, I found myself growing anxious about doing the right things. My family considered me the “worry wart,” and my anxiety got considerably worse through middle school. During this time, my parents had separated, and while I didn’t quite understand what was happening, the conflict of it left a toll on me. I really dived into the Bible for comfort and constantly recited Scripture for peace of mind.

When I was 12, my parents officially divorced and my mom, sister (the last one left in the house), and I moved to a new house in the same area the next year. It felt relieving to be in a new place, although my anxiety seemed to stay due to my loneliness from my sister preparing for college and my mom working more. My parents decided to send me to the local high school for my freshman year, a choice I am grateful for. The first couple of months were hard to adjust to, but I found my fears lessening a bit as I experienced more of the world outside of my home. While I was growing socially and emotionally, my faith grew slowly as I dedicated more time to sports and school. I feared sharing my faith, even though it was a vital part of my life. I was constantly concerned about what others thought of me, despite my mom patiently reminding me who I am as a Daughter of the King. While I had my identity in Christ, it was a struggle not to let other fun and good things take His place in my heart.

A pivotal part of my story is a relationship that I had during my senior year of high school and freshman year of college. While I still cared about my faith, I began testing boundaries that were not good for me or my relationship with God. I found myself drawing farther and farther from Jesus and sought advice from people that I knew would only tell me what I wanted to hear. I fed into lies and ignored the Spirit’s nudging. But the relationship was not healthy, and I knew that. At the end of my freshman year, God moved in my heart, and I ended the relationship. It took a long time to heal from the choices I had made, but I leaned on God the whole way. I experienced His Grace and realized how much I fall short. The experience changed my view of others from a haughty, prideful look to a grace-filled, loving perspective.

Since then, I have been focusing on building community with other believers. My anxiety, while it still comes out occasionally, has nearly gone away, which I credit to the Lord for drawing me to a city where I can flourish and for trusting Him for peace and guidance. I have had the opportunity to share the Gospel on different trips, creating boldness and confidence in my faith. While I still struggle with using other things to fill my heart, I find myself turning to God for everlasting fulfillment and grace when I fall short.