Just as we inherit our mitochondria from our mothers, Christ was born also from a woman, yet He was conceived by the Holy Spirit. This profound truth highlights the Jesus was born with purpose, even within the womb. He was fully human through His birth from Mary, yet made also by the Spirit. In the same way, when we choose to have Christ within us, we become a new creation, born again, not of the flesh, but of the Spirit.

For many Christian women, this expectation can be crushing. If we follow life’s stages, childhood, adolescence, adulthood, marriage, motherhood, and eventually grandparenthood, what happens to those who don’t fit that mold?

Do they still feel whole? Do they still feel "enough"?

The world does not equip caregivers to process these emotions. There is no roadmap, no real guidance on how to navigate this journey.

And because of that, we lose ourselves. We over-serve, over-function, and become consumed by meeting the needs of others. We believe that if we do more, give more, sacrifice more, then maybe, just maybe it will be enough.

The past does not define us. We can wipe the slate clean, not through striving or self-sufficiency, but by developing awareness by sitting with discomfort, acknowledging our struggles, and leaning into self-compassion

Yet, we often overlook a crucial aspect: compassion for ourselves. We have misinterpreted the message. We focus on the idea that we are sinners in need of grace, But we rarely ask ourselves: how do we receive this compassion? How do we know we have been given this gift of freedom and love?

Scent has an extraordinary way of grounding us, connecting us to memory, emotion, and even our deepest intentions. In somatic practices we use the term anchoring, a way to create stability, security, and support within ourselves. Much like an anchor holds a ship steady amidst the waves, scent can serve as a powerful tether, keeping us connected to moments of safety, clarity, and presence.

And just like the delicate balance of flavors in Pho, resourcing is about creating imprints that support, heal, and nurture us. It is about anchoring ourselves to memories and sensations that bring us comfort and strength.

I hate birthdays. They’ve become a trigger, a source of pain and hurt. Yet, I hold on to hope. I remind myself that healing is possible, just as I see it in my clients. We heal, grow, and release when the time is right.

But there’s a beauty in this process, because when we are truly seen, we experience compassion. That’s the essence of it all. Compassion is the key that makes unveiling beautiful.

When we pause to pray or give thanks before eating, we are not just honoring God; we are aligning our minds, bodies, and spirits with His design.

You are not the choices of your parents or the scapegoat for their dysfunction. You are worthy of love, connection, and peace, even if it doesn’t come from the places you once hoped. Choose to heal, to move forward, and to build a life that reflects your worth. You don’t have to be defined by the island you were placed on, you can chart your own course, and that’s where true freedom begins.

This year, my approach feels different. Change, growth, and setting visions are no longer confined to a single night or the start of the year. They are part of a daily practice—a journey, not an endpoint.

Each behaviour and choice shapes our path, and every day offers the chance to begin anew.

Jesus came to reveal the Father’s heart, not just through His teachings but through His life. He modeled grace, humility, and love, showing us how to live in relationship with Him and with others. Yet, how often do we neglect this example, focusing instead on rules, knowledge, or appearances?

What makes us cling to the idea of “family,” even when there’s no relationship to speak of?

Why do we claim connection to people we’ve barely met or have no bond with, simply because of a shared name or bloodline?

Is it a cultural phenomenon? A way to satisfy our human need for belonging? Or is it rooted in something more primal, perhaps an ancient attempt to maintain genetic diversity?

As I grew older, I began to realise my fascination, perhaps even an obsession with scent was more than a simple appreciation. I was using my sense of smell as a way to interpret the world around me, creating a sense of safety or signaling danger. It was a tool, albeit one I didn’t fully understand at the time.

For much of my life, I lived in survival mode, reacting to loss and uncertainty with the instinct to fix and control.

I was on autopilot, trying to shield myself from the discomfort of uncertainty.

This pattern was generational, rooted deeply in my family's history, and it became my default response to grief and pain.

A trigger is any stimulus, event, or situation that activates an emotional or physical reaction, often tied to past trauma. These reactions can include fear, anger, sadness, or anxiety, sometimes arising without conscious awareness of their origins.

As research continues to uncover, our bodies store these responses like a safety switch, ready to protect us. But when left unchecked, this switch can feel like an overpowering alarm.

Children may lose the ability to engage, not just with the outside world but even within their own homes. Over time, this impacts their ability to develop empathy, form connections, and regulate emotions.