There Is a Joy That Is Coming

There is a joy that is coming.

I hear it deep in my soul.

It echoes in the chambers of my heart—soft, steady, unmistakable.

Lately, God keeps drawing me to passages where He reminds me that He knows me. Not my résumé. Not my endurance. Not my faithfulness under pressure. Me.

He whispers that I am seen, that I am special, that His face shines upon me. I sense Him drawing people to my voice—not for my glory, but because His nearness leaves a trace. Dreams have been stirring—gentle but weighty—telling me that something new and something big is coming. That my cup will overflow with His blessing… in His timing.

And that this season—this wilderness,this mourning,this sanctification—will be worth the glory that is coming.

Recently, I’ve been sitting with Exodus 33:17–19. It’s a tender and sobering moment. Moses and the Israelites had just broken God’s heart by worshiping a golden calf. Failure was fresh. Consequences were real. And yet—in the midst of that weakness—God’s favor still flowed. Aaron was appointed high priest. And Moses pressed in further, daring to ask for more of God’s glory.

God’s response undid me:

“I will do the very thing you have asked, because I am pleased with you and I know you by name.” — Exodus 33:17

God didn’t say, “I know your assignment.” He didn’t say, “I know your obedience.”He said, “I know you.”

That is not transactional favor.

That is relational recognition.

Something shifted in me as I read those words. I realized that the work of the past several years has been God gently, persistently calling me out of performance-based spirituality and into identity-based intimacy. Nearness doesn’t begin when we finally get it right. Nearness begins when we stop striving to be seen—and allow ourselves to be known.

When we draw near to Him, something changes. A hunger awakens that goes beyond survival mode. Nearness awakens hunger. Hunger deepens intimacy. Intimacy invites revelation.

And what has God been revealing?

That He defines His glory as goodness.

His heart is not to intimidate, withhold, or remain distant—but to heal distorted images of who He is. Especially for women who have known authority without tenderness. And I have known authority without tenderness.

In this season, God has been revealing His names to me—not as theology, but as lived truth.

He is with me.

He sees me.

He is my healer, my defender, my protector, my provider.

He is my Father.

He is my Beloved.

My Great Shepherd.

He is the One who brings joy.

The One who transforms.

The One whose face shines upon me.

This revelation has brought clarity in the midst of healing and pain, suffering and growth, testing and transition. And all He asks—so gently—is that I recognize His nearness and receive the joy, love, and abundance He longs to give. Not because I earned it. But because I am known by Him. And because holy fear has taught my heart how to stay close.

As I look back, I can say this with awe: this year has been full of blessings.

What began as a small, trauma-informed Bible study called Sacred Pen gave birth to a ministering movement—

a published book,

a book signing,

the Sacred Pen Project blog,

writing circles,

and the launching of Women’s Furnace.

But growth always asks something of us.

This year required release—

of people,

of unforgiveness,

of anger,

of expectations,

of false narratives.

I faced fears I would rather avoid. I surrendered weaknesses I once tried to hide. God placed me in situations I didn’t choose—but through them, He taught me boundaries, stewardship, and self-compassion. He sharpened my discernment. He showed me the beauty in my tears. He honored my mothering heart.

And slowly, faithfully, He has been freeing me from:

control-based faith,

self-blame,

and religious pressure.

Now, I believe He is inviting other women into this same journey.

A journey where we stop performing and start abiding.

Where wilderness becomes preparation.

Where mourning gives way to oil of joy.

Where building flows from abundance, not depletion.

There is a joy that is coming.

And it is not rushed.

It is not forced.

It is carried on the goodness of God—

who knows us by name

and delights in drawing near.

As we step into this new year and this new season of building, may we dare to believe that His glory really is good… and that being known by Him is more than enough.

A Reflection for the New Season

As you step into this new year, pause for a moment and ask your heart:

Where have I been striving to be seen, when God is inviting me to rest in being known? What would it look like to recieve His joy, love, and abundance—not as a reward for performance, but as a response to His nearness?

Sit with that question. Let it guide you into His presence. Let it name what you are ready to release—and what you are ready to build.