Sleeping With The Enemy

Before I could write this, I had to break wide open— like a seed split by fire, like silence shattered by truth, like shame peeled from the soul. I didn’t just fall—I unraveled. And in the unraveling, I remembered who I was in God. I tried to fix everything with my own strength, tried to numb the thoughts that haunted me in the night. But God would not let me stay buried in that place. He pulled me through what I thought would crush me—and in the breaking, He birthed something eternal in me, something that will never die. This isn’t just my story. This is evidence of what happens when you give God your fragments and let Him return fire. I didn’t write this because I’m strong. I wrote this because He is. I am here because grace fought for me louder than regret did. And now—I write as a woman not just healed, but held. Held in mercy. Held on purpose. Held in the arms of a Father who never once let go. To God be the glory. For every tear, every chapter, every resurrection in these pages—let His name be praised.