Thank you

There are mornings when the old stories try to claim me before I’m even awake. They slip in like thieves, whispering that I am unsafe, that ruin waits just beyond the next corner, that all I’ve built could crumble in an instant. They are not new stories—they’ve walked beside me for years, familiar as shadows. For someone else it may be a story of loneliness, or a body’s betrayal, or the ache of love lost. But no matter the shape, these stories all sing the same song: You are on your own, and danger is near.

Yesterday I felt that song loud in my chest. I didn’t want to answer the phone. I didn’t want to open the door. Breathing itself seemed heavy. But in that moment I made myself stop. I spoke aloud, almost like a prayer: I am here. I am breathing. I have survived everything that has come before, not by my strength alone, but because I have been carried.

And with that, I remembered. There is a plan that is not mine, one written long before I was born, held together by a wisdom beyond my knowing. Each thread of my life, even the darkest, has been carefully stitched into that design. My fear comes only when I forget this and clutch at the reins, as if I were in charge of steering the universe.

Letting go is the work of faith. It feels like falling, and yet every time I surrender, I discover I am held. To trust God’s plan is to rest in the truth that nothing in my life has been wasted—not the heartbreak, not the fear, not even the days I thought were ruined. All of it belongs. All of it has been used to bring me exactly here.

So I said thank you. Not because I understood everything, but because I don’t need to. Gratitude is how I loosen my grip, how I return the pen to the Author who never stopped writing. Thank you for this breath. Thank you for this day. Thank you for the unseen ways You are leading me home.

Because here’s the truth: if we refuse to let go, if we cling only to our small fearful tales, we will miss the greater story unfolding. Life will slip past, one long account of regret, when all along God’s design was drawing us closer to love, to purpose, to joy we could not have dreamed for ourselves.

So if today you find yourself caught in your own story of fear, pause. Let your hands loosen. Lift your face. Whisper thank you. Say it once, and then again. Each thank you is a step deeper into trust, a surrender into the plan written for you since the beginning. And that plan, always, is more tender, more generous, more radiant than anything we could imagine on our own.