Un-rav-el: to free from complication or difficulty; to make plain or clear.
Father God,
I lay down what I can no longer carry, the masks, the striving, the silent weight. Help me to not fear the unraveling, but to trust that even now, You are near. Even in the undoing, You are making space for what is true. In Jesus name, amen.
“So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.”. – John 8:36
Lately, I’ve been reminded that everything I need flows from one place, God.
Not always from people, not from plans, not even from my own strength,
Just Him.
I stepped outside today, let the sun touch my face and the wind speak softly to my spirit. And there, among the trees and sky and stillness, I remembered:
He is the source of my peace.
The wellspring of my joy.
The keeper of my soul.
Spending time with Him in nature grounds me.
It clears the noise.
It brings me home.
When I’m weary, I don’t need to do more.
I just need to return,
to the One who holds it all,
and to the One who holds me.
– denise marie
“So if the son sets you free, you will be free indeed”. – John 8:36
Lately, I’ve been noticing the small things, the way the sunlight dances on the leaves, how the birds always find their song, how my heart softens in nature’s presence.
It’s in these quiet returns that I remember who I am, a daughter still becoming, a soul still unfolding.
God isn’t asking me to hurry, He’s asking me to come close, to rest, to remember I’m already loved, already chosen, already home. – denise marie
“So if the son sets you free, you will be free indeed”. – John 8:36
Lately, I’ve been learning to slow down and really see, not just with my eyes, but with my heart.
The sky is soft in the morning, the flowers blooming by the sidewalk, and the wind brushing the trees like a song.
But something inside me is changing. I’m learning to pay attention, to notice the light as it filters through the leaves, and to find beauty even in the ordinary and overlooked.
This is the lens I’m choosing now, one shaped by gratitude, healing and hope. The more I look through it, the more beauty I see, not just around me, but within me too. – denise marie
“So if the son sets you free, you will be free indeed”. – John 8:36
Today I stood still in the quiet of nature, the trees towering above me like protectors, the wind brushing past my skin like a whispered reminder: You are loved, always.
There’s something about being outside that makes His love feel closer. Not loud or forced, just constant, gentle and everlasting.
The same way the sun rises without needing our permission, His love shows up, every morning, every moment, unchanging. I don’t have to earn it, I don’t have to strive for it, I just have to receive it.
The everlasting love of Jesus isn’t based on how steady I am, it’s based on how steady He is. Rooted like the trees, faithful like the river, and endless like the sky. And in that love, I can finally rest.
– denise marie
“So if the son sets you free, you will be free indeed”. – John 8:36
A visit to Chambers Creek in University Place, Washington
As I sat beneath the trees, near the river, and let the stillness hold me. There was no agenda, no rushing, just the sound of water moving slow and steady, like grace, and the wind weaving through the leaves like a gentle invitation to come home.
Out here in nature, something in me softens. I don’t have to be strong, I don’t have to perform healing or pretend I’m not still learning how to breathe again. I can just be, fully present and fully loved.
The river reminds me that I, too, am allowed to flow, gently, honestly, without force. The trees remind me that it’s safe to be rooted again. Safe to rest. Safe to return.
God is here in the quiet, never demanding, only inviting. And in that sacred space, I remember, I am not lost, I am not broken. I am returning to Him, to myself and to wholeness that never truly left.
– denise marie
“So if the son sets you free, you will be free indeed”. – John 8:36
There’s something sacred about the journey back to love, the kind that begins with God, that transforms how I see myself, and leads me into wholeness.
Falling in love with God isn’t about religious performance; it’s about discovering the One who loved me first. It’s a quiet surrender, a drawing close, a resting in presence where striving ceases.
As I lean into that love, I begin to see myself differently. Not through shame or scarcity, but through grace and my reflection softens. I start to unlearn the lies, rewrite the inner dialogue, and reclaim my worth.
And that’s where wholeness begins, not in perfection, but in acceptance, not in having it all together, but in being fully known and still deeply loved.
This journey is tender, It’s holy ground, and every step is towards love, God, self, and a step towards healing. This is my road to becoming, and this is My Journey Home.
– denise marie
“So if the son sets you free, you will be free indeed”. – John 8:36
When I slow down and sit with God in the now, I begin to see the purpose in the pause. I learn to listen, to breathe, and to trust. The in-between is holy ground, and as much as it’s uncomfortable, I won’t rush it. God is here, and He’s still writing my story.
– denise marie
“So if the son sets you free, you will be free indeed”. – John 8:36
I am not meant to hold everything together on my own because I know that self-sufficiency is a heavy burden. Jesus invites me to let go of striving and instead; to abide, to be still, to be present, and to simply be with Him. – denise marie
“So if the son sets you free, you will be free indeed”. – John 8:36