Dear Little Girl…Be Where Your Feet Are

Dear Little Girl,

You keep looking over the horizon. You want to know when the next chapter will begin.
When the next blessing will arrive.
When you'll finally feel settled.
When everything will make sense.

If I'm being honest, I caught myself doing the very same thing.

I was sitting on a beach in Mexico wondering when I would get to come back.

Isn't that funny?

I was already worrying about the next paradise while sitting in one.

“This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.”

— Psalm 118:24

God gently whispered to my heart, Amy...you're missing today.

That same week, I found a heart-shaped shell.

Heart Sea Shell found in Huatulco, Mexico

A little later, I found a butterfly resting alongside the path. It stayed with me for hours, quietly opening and closing its wings as if it had nowhere else it needed to be.

Then it hit me.

Months ago, I chose those very symbols for my tattoo.

The heart.

The butterfly.

Love.

Freedom.

I smiled because it felt like God was reminding me that the things I keep asking Him for aren't always waiting somewhere in my future.

Sometimes they're already surrounding me.

Maybe that's true for you too.

Maybe today holds more beauty than you've noticed.

Maybe God has scattered little treasures all along your path—not to answer every question about tomorrow, but to remind you that He is already here.

Dear Little Girl,

Be where your feet are…

God already is.

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

— Matthew 6:34

With love, 🩵

Amy

Dear Little Girl…Rest in Hope

Dear Little Girl,

You like answers.

You like to know what is going to happen next.

You like plans and timelines and reassurance that everything will be okay.

You want to know the test results before the doctor calls.

You want to know the marriage will stay steady.

You want to know the kids will make good choices.

You want to know the money will stretch far enough.

You want to know the people you love will be safe.

And when you don't know, you start working.

You think about it.
Pray about it.
Research it.
Plan for it.
Prepare for every possible outcome.

As if enough effort could somehow create certainty.

But lately God has been teaching you something different.

Not through answers.

Through peace.

The kind of peace that shows up before the situation changes.

The kind that arrives when there are still questions on the table.

The kind that whispers, "You don't need to know everything. You just need to know Me."

In Acts 2, Peter stood before the crowd and quoted David's words:

"My body also will rest in hope."

Rest in hope.

Not rest in certainty.

Not rest in guarantees.

Hope.

Because hope is not confidence in an outcome.

Hope is confidence in God's presence.

It means trusting that even if the path twists in ways you didn't expect, you will not walk it alone.

So, dear little girl, stop striving for certainty.

Stop demanding tomorrow's answers before you've lived today.

The Spirit of God is already with you.

The same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead lives in you.

And maybe the miracle isn't finally getting the answer you've been waiting for.

Maybe the miracle is discovering you can rest before it arrives.

Rest in hope.

Not because you know what happens next.

Because you know Who goes with you.

Dear Little Girl…You Can Trust Without Overworking

Dear Little Girl,

For a long time, you believed safety was something you had to earn.

If you worked hard enough.
Planned well enough.
Saved enough.
Prepared enough.

Then maybe you could finally relax.

But lately, God has been gently showing you a different way.

The truth is, fear has a sneaky way of disguising itself as responsibility.

It tells you to work a little harder.
Plan a little more.
Carry a little extra.

It whispers that if you let your guard down, everything might fall apart.

And if you're honest, there are still moments when you believe it.

Moments when you worry about the future.
About your family.
About your business.
About whether you'll be able to carry what tomorrow brings.

But fear doesn't get to lead anymore.

In Genesis 35, God called Jacob back to Bethel—the place where he first encountered Him while running for his life.

This time, however, God wasn't calling Jacob to run.

He was calling him to return.

To settle.

To trust.

Before he left, Jacob buried the idols he had been carrying and set out in obedience. He didn't have all the answers. He didn't have guarantees. He simply trusted the God who had been faithful before.

That part stops me every time.

God didn't need Jacob to be perfect.

He needed him to show up.

Maybe that's what God is asking of us too.

To bury the idols we've built out of control, striving, money, productivity, and self-reliance.

To stop believing that our safety depends on how much we can carry.

To trust that God's provision is bigger than our plans.

Because God's provision is not a paycheck.

It's His presence.

It's His promises.

It's His peace.

For years, I thought I had to prove my worth.

To earn love.
To earn rest.
To earn safety.

But that isn't the Gospel.

I am worthy because He says I am.

You are worthy because He says you are.

Not because of what you produce.
Not because of what you achieve.
Not because of how much you carry.

Just because you belong to Him.

So today, dear girl, you can loosen your grip.

You don't have to earn your safety.

You don't have to overwork to be protected.

You don't have to carry tomorrow before it arrives.

God is already there.

And He is with you here, too.

Love,

Amy

Dear Little Girl…Put Down the Bricks

Dear Little Girl,

You've always wanted to get it right.

To make sure everyone is okay.
To keep the peace.
To solve the problem before it becomes a crisis.
To build something strong enough that nothing can fall apart.

So you pick up another brick.

A brick of responsibility.
A brick of worry.
A brick of control.
A brick of "what if."

And before you know it, you're carrying a tower God never asked you to build.

In Genesis, the people of Babel gathered with one goal: to build a tower high enough to secure their future and make a name for themselves.

Brick by brick, they trusted their own plans more than God's purpose.

But then we reach Pentecost.

Again, people gathered.
Again, many languages.
Again, uncertainty about what would come next.

But this time, they didn't build.

They waited.

They prayed.

They trusted.

And when the Spirit moved, what human effort could never accomplish, God did.

Do you see the difference, Little Girl?

One group tried to force the future.

The other trusted God with it.

Maybe that's the invitation for you too.

In your parenting.
In your marriage.
In your healing.
In your business.
In the questions you keep carrying around long after you've handed them to God.

Put down the bricks.

You don't have to manage every outcome.
You don't have to fix every problem.
You don't have to carry responsibilities that belong to God.

You don't have to build the tower.

You simply have to stay close to the One who already sees the whole picture.

The same Spirit who filled that upper room is alive and at work today.

He's not asking you to strive harder.

He's asking you to trust deeper.

So breathe.

Put down the bricks.

Step away from the tower.

And listen for the whisper.

You are loved.
You are seen.
And you never had to build the tower to prove your worth.

Love,

Your Older, Wiser Self

(The one still learning to put down the bricks too.)

Dear Little Girl…You Don’t Have To Chase God

Dear Little Girl,

The busy season is ending.

The performances have happened.
The schedules are shifting.
The deadlines that felt so urgent are beginning to loosen their grip.

And yet...

You still find yourself carrying things.

The questions.
The worries.
The hopes you have for people you love.

You thought peace would arrive when life finally settled down.

But peace was never waiting on a clear calendar.

Peace has always been a Person.

You keep thinking you'll meet God in the next season.

After the trip.
After the decision.
After the answer arrives.
After everyone is okay.

But what if He wants to meet you here?

Not in the finished version of the story.

Not after you've figured it out.

Here.

In the ordinary summer morning.
In the quiet cup of coffee.
In the walk around the neighborhood.
In the empty chair waiting for you to sit down.

You don't have to create a spiritual breakthrough.

You don't have to chase a feeling.

You don't have to prove your faithfulness.

Simply show up.

The same God who met Jacob while he was running.
The same God who met Hagar in the wilderness.
The same God who met the disciples in their fear.

He still meets people right where they are.

And He will meet you too.

Not because you've earned it.

Not because you've finally gotten everything right.

But because He loves being with you.

So take a breath today.

Let the pressure leave your shoulders.

You do not have to force the next chapter.

You only have to take the next step.

God is already there.

Waiting.

Love,
God

Dear Little Girl…For the Baby I Never Held

Seventeen years.

Seventeen years since I said hello and goodbye in the same season.

Every year around this time, I find myself sitting in the strange collision of two sentences:

Happy Birthday.

And Happy Death Day.

What a strange place to visit year after year.

A place where love and grief sit side by side.

A place where I celebrate a life I never got to hold and mourn a child I never got to know.

It's also a place that can be hard to explain.

Unless you've walked this road, it's difficult to understand. There is a sacred sisterhood made up of women who carried babies they never got to raise. It is a club none of us wanted to join, yet somehow the women in it understand one another without many words.

We know what it means to love someone we barely met.

We know what it means to miss someone whose face we never saw.

And we know what it means to carry both grief and hope in the same heart.

I still don't know if you were a boy or a girl.

And if I'm being honest, I still wonder.

Would you have had blue eyes like your daddy?

Would you have loved sports like Graeme?

Would you have been creative like JP?

Would you have been driven like Will?

Would you have loved dance like me?

Would you have had my laugh? My stubborn streak? My tender heart?

Or would you have marched to the beat of your own drum and surprised all of us?

Sometimes I imagine a little girl in a tiny tutu twirling through heaven.

Other times I picture a little boy running through fields, laughing and exploring.

The truth is, I don't know.

But I love you all the same.

I think that's one of the hardest things for people to understand about losing a baby.

Love doesn't wait for a birth certificate.

It doesn't wait for first words or first steps.

Love began the moment those two pink lines appeared.

And seventeen years later, that love remains.

I remember the day I found out you were gone.

Some memories fade with time.

That one never has.

I remember driving to the hospital.

I remember exiting Walnut Hill.

I remember riding the elevator.

I remember the ultrasound technician smiling.

And I remember watching that smile disappear.

"I am so sorry," she said. "There is no heartbeat."

Those words changed everything.

I remember tears streaming down my face.

I remember mascara streaked across my cheeks.

I remember walking through a world that suddenly looked exactly the same while feeling completely different.

I remember hoping they were wrong.

Praying they were wrong.

Believing a miracle might happen.

I didn't want to let you go.

I wanted one more chance.

One more heartbeat.

One more sonogram.

One more miracle.

But it never came.

And so I joined a club I never wanted to belong to.

The club of mothers whose babies live in heaven.

Years later, I learned my Grandma Foley belonged to that club too.

Nobody really talked about it.

I don't even know if all of my siblings know.

By the time I lost you, she was already gone, and I felt very alone.

Because here's what people don't always understand:

I knew you.

I carried you.

I heard your heartbeat.

You heard my voice.

You were real.

And you still are.

If you're reading this and you're part of that club too, I want you to hear me:

You are still a mother.

From conception to death, you are still a mother.

Even if you never held your baby.

Even if you never got pictures.

Even if nobody else remembers.

You are still a mother.

And I am still your mama.

One of my favorite memories happened after you were gone.

Your brother JP was sitting on the top bunk one night and decided you needed a name.

"Trece," he said.

Number three.

The third child.

I don't know if I would've chosen that name myself, but I loved the heart behind it.

I loved that your brother already loved you enough to name you.

And somehow that small moment has stayed with me for seventeen years.

Today, I still wonder about you.

I wonder if you've met my mom and dad.

I wonder if you've met Grandma Foley and the baby she never got to raise.

I wonder what your laugh sounds like.

I wonder what it would feel like to hold you.

I wonder what you smell like.

I wonder if you know how often I still think about you.

I wonder if you know that every June, I remember.

I remember the loss.

But I also remember the love.

And maybe that's what healing really is.

Not forgetting.

Not moving on.

Not pretending it didn't matter.

Maybe healing is learning how to carry both.

The grief.

And the gratitude.

The ache.

And the hope.

Because after all these years, that's what I feel most.

Hope.

Not the desperate hope that asks God to change the past.

But the quiet hope that trusts He is holding what I cannot.

The hope that believes heaven is real.

The hope that believes I will know you when I see you.

The hope that believes love does not end at death.

So today, Baby Berry, I want you to know something.

I never forgot you.

Not for one year.

Not for one day.

Not for one moment.

You are still part of our story.

You are still part of our family.

And you are still deeply loved.

I loved you the moment those two pink lines appeared.

And seventeen years later, I love you still.

Wildly.

Always have.

Always will.

Love,

Your Mama on Earth

Dear Little Girl…He Trusts You With His Sheep

Dear Little Girl,

You’re going to make mistakes.

You’ll say yes when you should’ve said no.
You’ll lose patience.
You’ll look back and wish you slowed down.
You’ll second guess yourself and wonder if you’re really equipped for all of this.

Motherhood.
Marriage.
Leadership.
People trusting you with tender things.

But listen closely…

He knew all of that before He ever chose you.

And He still trusted you.

To raise those boys.
To love people well.
To teach.
To nurture.
To lead.
To shepherd hearts.

You were never chosen because you would do it perfectly.

You were chosen because you would keep showing up with love.

Yes, there will be hard conversations.
There will be seasons where your heart aches watching your babies grow faster than you’re ready for.
There will be tension, hormones, fear, unknowns, and late-night Google searches trying to make sense of it all.

But you are not doing this alone.

You sit with the Shepherd.

And He is guiding you as you guide them.

You do not need to have all the answers.
You do not need to carry every outcome.
You do not need to parent from fear.

You simply need to stay close enough to hear His voice.

Because women were never created to be small.

Women were trusted to carry life.
To nurture faith.
To show up first at the empty tomb.
To carry hope back into the world.

And you, Little Girl, are still being trusted too.

Even when your voice shakes.
Even when you’re uncertain.
Even when you wish you were doing better.

You are still the one He chose for this season.
For these people.
For this life.

So breathe.

Sit in the chair again.
Open your heart again.
Ask again.
Trust again.

He will speak.

He always does.

🩷

I Thought I Was Just Taking a Dance Class

This week I found myself subbing at DDF again after about a 9-month break.

And honestly?

It felt really good to be back.

The music.
The energy.
The women.
The joy of it all.

When class ended, my boss smiled and said, “It was nice to have you and your energy back in class, Hollywood.”

That’s what she always called me.

The old students talked about how much fun they had, and the new ones said they loved my energy. And standing there afterward, sweaty and smiling, something hit me…

Almost 11 years ago, I did something brave.

At 44 years old, I walked into a dance fitness class at the YMCA not realizing that one tiny decision would completely change the trajectory of my life.

At the time, I was just looking for movement.
For fun.
For something that felt like mine.

Graeme was little and loved the childcare there. I loved the instructor, Melissa. I remember feeling incredibly insecure back then. My body didn’t feel like my own. I was carrying weight physically and emotionally. My breasts had grown so large for my frame that I eventually pursued a breast reduction just so I could move more freely.

That may sound small to some people, but speaking up for myself back then was actually brave.

Especially in a marriage where I had slowly lost my voice.

And yet somehow…dance started giving it back to me.

When Melissa moved out of the country, I had to find somewhere else to dance, which led me to DDF. I still remember being nervous walking into that studio full of “mom dancers” and former real dancers.

Yes, I danced growing up, but not after high school. My dad used to say he “wasn’t raising a gypsy,” and if I’m honest, that comment still stings sometimes.

But maybe not becoming a professional dancer was never the point.

Maybe dance was simply waiting for me to come back to it when I truly needed saving.

Because the truth is, my life was heavy back then.

Trey was deep in addiction.
My mom’s health was declining.
We were helping care for my dad with dementia.
Will was busy with soccer.
JP was finding his way into the arts.
Graeme was still little.
And somewhere in the middle of taking care of everyone else…

I was disappearing.

But every time I walked into dance class and the music started, something happened.

Everything else got quiet.

I wrote in an old blog once:

“It is like whatever is going on around me just goes away like magic and it’s just me, the music, and the moves.”

And it was true.

Dance became my therapy.
My medicine.
My safe place.

It became the one place where my nervous system could finally exhale.

Without realizing it, I slowly began finding my voice again. And thank God I did, because not long after that came some of the hardest years of my life.

My mom died.
My marriage began to spiral.
Trey’s mental health collapsed.
I became a caregiver.
I watched my world crack wide open.
I wrestled with faith, grief, identity, fear, loneliness, and survival.

And through all of it…

Dance stayed.

There were days I truly understood how easy it would be to stop living while still technically being alive. I wrote this years ago:

“No, it is me waking up those days and saying I choose to live.”

That line hits differently now.

Because that’s exactly what dance helped me do.

Choose life.

Not perfectly.
Not all at once.
But one class at a time.

One song at a time.
One brave yes at a time.

And what absolutely blows my mind today is realizing that one tiny decision at 44 years old opened the door to the entire life I am living now.

Because of that one “yes,” I became a dance fitness instructor.

And because of THAT yes…

I now teach tiny dancers.
I work with special needs students.
I teach women how to reconnect to their bodies through MELT.
I help people feel safe in their bodies again.
I pour confidence into little girls.
I create.
I move.
I encourage.
I connect.
I heal.

And somehow in the second half of my life…
I became more myself than I have ever been.

That’s what hit me this week.

I thought I was just becoming a dance fitness instructor.

Little did I know…
I was becoming.

And maybe that’s what I want women to understand most.

Sometimes the thing tugging at your soul isn’t random.

Sometimes it’s God.

Sometimes it’s one tiny spark trying to lead you back to yourself.

You do not need a five-year plan.
You do not need a blueprint.
You do not need the whole map.

I certainly didn’t.

At one point I thought I was supposed to become an influencer or motivational coach or build some huge platform. But somewhere along the way, I stopped striving for the masses.

Now?
I just want to help one person feel seen.
One woman feel alive again.
One dancer feel confident.
One child feel worthy.
One hurting person feel safe.

That’s enough for me.

Actually…that’s more than enough.

So if there is something small tugging at you right now…
a class,
a dream,
a hobby,
a whisper,
an urge to create,
to move,
to try again…

listen to it.

Lean into it.

Go for it.

Because the truth is…

At 44 years old, I thought I was just taking a dance class.

Little did I know it would save my life.

Dear Little Girl…You Are Allowed to Receive

Dear Little Girl,

Maybe May swept you away too.

The schedules.
The people.
The performances.
The caregiving.
The constant doing.

Maybe you’ve been so busy surviving the season that you forgot you are allowed to be cared for too.

There is a lot on your shoulders right now.
Not in a way that is breaking you…
but in a way that feels heavy.

Your home has felt different lately.
The atmosphere has shifted.
There’s tension you can feel but not always name.

And yet…
you’re still showing up.

With compassion.
With strength.
With boundaries.

That matters more than you realize.

You are doing something you didn’t always know how to do.

You are loving…
Without losing yourself.

You are helping…
Without taking on what isn’t yours.

You are staying open…
Without abandoning your own safety.

That is growth.
That is healing.
That is Me in you.

But there is something deeper stirring in your heart today.
Something quieter…
But just as important.

You’re starting to notice it.

The way you struggle to receive.
The way you shrink back when attention turns toward you.
The way you brush off affirmation…
Even when part of you longs for it.

You wonder,
“Why is this so hard for me?”

Let Me gently show you something.

Receiving is not pride.
And minimizing yourself is not humility.

When you push away affirmation…
When you downplay who you are…
When you refuse to fully receive what is true about you…

You are not being humble.

You are struggling to believe what I already say is true.

You are My creation.
My art.
My intentional design.
Nothing about you was accidental.

Your compassion.
Your strength.
Your creativity.
Your loyalty.
Your fight.
Your softness.

It all came from Me.

So when someone celebrates you…
When someone sees you…
When someone speaks truth about who you are…

They are not inflating you.

They are recognizing something I placed inside you.

And when you deflect it…
When you minimize it…
When you immediately say, “Oh, it’s nothing…”

You dim something I created to shine.

You don’t have to become boastful.
You don’t have to become someone you’re not.
You don’t have to perform or prove anything.

You simply have to receive.

Receive the compliment.
Receive the help.
Receive the love that reaches toward you.
Receive the truth:

You are worthy.

Not because of what you’ve done.
Not because of how far you’ve come.
But because you are Mine.

Even in your hardest seasons…
Even in your mistakes…
Even in the moments you would rather forget…

You were still Mine.
You were still worthy.

So today…
Let this be the beginning.

Not of becoming someone new…
But of fully accepting who you already are.

You can be strong and soft, humble and seen, grounded and celebrated, all at the same time.

And one day…
You won’t shrink when the light finds you.

You’ll stand in it.

Peacefully.
Confidently.
Without apology.

Because you finally understand…

You are not the one being glorified.
I am.
Through you.

Love,
God

Dear Little Girl… You Can Take This One Step at a Time

Dear Little Girl,

It’s been a lot lately, hasn’t it?

So much noise.
So many moving pieces.
So many things you wish you could fix…
but can’t.

And if you’re honest…

You’re tired.

Not just physically tired…

But soul tired.

You’ve been holding tension.
Carrying questions.
Trying to prepare for outcomes you can’t control.

And somewhere in all of that…

You started to wonder:

“Is this just my life now?”

Sweet girl…

Come closer.

You don’t have to figure out the whole story today.

You don’t have to decide how it all ends.
You don’t have to predict what might happen next.
You don’t have to brace for every possible outcome.

You only have to take…

One step.

One breath.
One moment.
One decision at a time.

Because here’s what you’re learning, even if it doesn’t feel like it:

You are not in control of how everything unfolds…

But you are held
As it does.

And I know part of you wants to run.

To escape the tension.
To step outside of it all
Just to breathe again.

But another part of you knows…

That running won’t bring the peace you’re looking for.

Peace isn’t found in escaping your life.

It’s found in how you walk through it.

And right now…

You are walking through something hard.

But you are not unraveling.

Even if it feels like it.

You said it yourself…

Your word this year is whole.

And sometimes becoming whole…

Doesn’t feel like everything coming together.

Sometimes it feels like things falling apart
So you can see clearly what is yours…
And what never was.

So today…

Don’t rush.

Don’t force clarity.

Don’t try to solve tomorrow.

Just come back to this moment.

You are safe right now.
You are supported right now.
You are strong enough for today.

And whatever comes…

You will not walk through it alone.

One step at a time, sweet girl.

That is enough.

Love,
God

Dear Little Girl…You Can Be Kind and Still Have Boundaries

If you feel like you’re carrying everything right now and quietly losing pieces of yourself… this is for you.

Dear Little Girl,

This feels like a lot right now, doesn’t it?

Your home doesn’t feel like your home.
The rhythm is off.
The peace you fought so hard for feels disrupted.

There’s noise.
There’s emotion.
There’s a constant pull on your heart and your energy.

And part of you just wants your life back.

But here you are.

Still showing up.
Still choosing kindness.
Still offering safety to someone who needs it.

That matters.

More than you realize.

But I want you to hear this clearly:

Kindness does not mean access.

Love does not mean absorption.

And compassion does not mean you have to carry what is not yours.

You are learning something sacred right now.

You can sit with someone in their pain…
without stepping into their chaos.

You can listen…
without agreeing.

You can love…
without losing yourself.

I know it frustrates you.

The conversations on repeat.
The cycle you can clearly see…
even when she cannot.

You want to fix it.
You want her to see it.
You want it to stop.

But this is not yours to fix.

And I know something else is stirring in you too.

The stories.

The ones you’ve told yourself your whole life.

That when someone leaves… it must mean something.
That when something feels off… you must adjust yourself to fit.
That if you just try a little harder… you can make things feel safe again.

That little girl was trying to protect you.

She made sense of things the only way she knew how.

And she did a beautiful job.

But you are not her anymore.

You don’t have to create stories to feel safe.

You don’t have to overextend to belong.

You don’t have to shrink or shape-shift or self-medicate
just to feel included.

You are already safe.

You are already worthy.

You are already enough… exactly as you are.

So today…

When the conversation starts again…
you can gently step away.

When the energy feels heavy…
you can protect your space.

When your peace feels disrupted…
you can return to Me.

You don’t have to harden.

You don’t have to shut down.

You just have to stay rooted.

You said it yourself…

“I can offer safety… without absorbing chaos.”

Yes.

That is the way forward.

And one more thing, sweet girl…

It’s okay that this feels lonely sometimes.

You are learning how to live as your true self.

And that can feel unfamiliar at first.

But slowly…

you will find your people.

Your rhythm.

Your peace again.

You are not losing your life.

You are reclaiming it.

Love,
God

Dear Little Girl…You Don’t Have to Carry It All

Dear Little Girl,

This feels like a lot right now, doesn’t it?

More than you expected.
More than you planned for.
More than you feel like you have space for.

Your home feels full.
Your heart feels stretched.
And your body is trying to keep up with it all.

One moment you’re okay…
the next you feel like you can’t breathe.

I want you to hear this, softly…

You are not failing.

You are feeling.

And there is a difference.

There are layers here.

You’re holding space for someone in your home.
You’re supporting your husband… even when you feel unseen.
You’re caring for your son… whose heart you can feel so deeply.
You’re showing up to work… to your calling… to your life.

Of course this feels like a lot.

Because it is.

But I want to gently take something off your shoulders.

You do not have to carry all of this.

Not the tension.
Not the fear.
Not the outcomes.
Not the weight of other people’s choices.

You can love…

without absorbing.

You can support…

without taking responsibility for everything.

You can be present…

without losing yourself.

And I know you’re tired.

Tired of the noise.
Tired of the pressure.
Tired of feeling like your space isn’t fully your own.

Tired of being the steady one when everything around you feels unsteady.

But listen closely…

You are not alone in this.

Not for a moment.

Not even when it feels quiet.
Not even when it feels overwhelming.
Not even when you wish someone else could just step in and take some of this from you.

You said it yourself…

You just need to put one foot in front of the other
and breathe.

Yes.

That is enough for today.

Not fixing everything.
Not solving everything.
Not carrying everything.

Just…

one step
one breath
one moment at a time

And when resentment creeps in…

let it be a signal, not a failure.

A signal that you need rest.
Space.
Support.
A return to yourself.

You are allowed to have needs too.

You are allowed to feel overwhelmed.

You are allowed to ask Me to step in.

And I am.

I am holding what you cannot.

I am steady when you feel shaken.

I am present when everything feels too much.

So today…

Release what is not yours.

Hold onto what is.

And trust that even here—
in the middle of the mess, the noise, the exhaustion—

you are still being held.

Love,
God

Dear Little Girl…When Easter Doesn’t Feel Joyful (Finding God in the Quiet)

Dear Little Girl,

Easter came…
And it didn’t look like you thought it would, did it?

It was quieter.
A little heavier.
Not wrapped in bows or baskets or perfect traditions.

There was tension.
There was uncertainty.
There were pieces of your heart pulled in different directions.

And part of you wondered…
“Did I miss it?”

I want you to know something.

Easter was never meant to be perfect.
It was never meant to be polished or easy or light.

It was born out of grief.
Out of confusion.
Out of watching something you love suffer… and not being able to stop it.

Mary stood and watched her son carry a cross.
She didn’t understand it.
She couldn’t fix it.
She couldn’t make it stop.

And still… God was there.

You felt that this week, didn’t you?

In the loss.
In the conversations.
In the tension that rose up around you.
In the moment you chose to speak truth instead of staying quiet.

That mattered.

You didn’t shrink.
You didn’t ignore what your body was telling you.
You said, “This is not okay.”

And you said it with strength… not anger.

That is growth.
That is healing.
That is Me in you.

And then there were the moments where you felt the weight of someone else’s fear…
their uncertainty…
their unspoken questions about what comes next.

You don’t have to fix it.
You don’t have to carry it.

You just have to love.

To be steady.
To be present.
To let your peace speak louder than your words.

I know it felt different.

Some of your people weren’t there.
The traditions didn’t unfold the way they used to.
Things felt… off.

But don’t miss this:

This quiet?
It’s not empty.

It’s sacred.

Because resurrection doesn’t always come with trumpets.

Sometimes…
It comes in a boundary spoken.
In a softened heart.
In choosing love without losing yourself.
In showing up when things aren’t perfect.

You didn’t miss Easter.

You lived it.

So today…
Release what isn’t yours to carry.
Love what is in front of you.
And trust that even here— In the quiet, in the messy, in the ordinary—

He is risen.
And He is rising in you too.

Love,
God

Dear Little Girl…God is in the Details (Even the Car You Drive)

Welp…I got a new car.

And I love it.

But before I tell you about the new one…
you need to understand the one that came before her.

Mary Poppins

I have been driving a car I fell madly in love with…
a 2005 Toyota Sequoia.

And when I tell you I drove that baby until it cost more to fix her than she was worth…
I mean it.

She was like Mary Poppins. Hence the name Mary Poppins.

She could fit EVERYONE.

Carpool? Got it.
Dance equipment? No problem.
A lamp? Sure.
Honestly…she could probably fit a couch if we needed her to.

She was magical.

One of Graeme’s buddies, Hall, used to say he loved my car because of her smell and that soft, soft leather.

And I loved how high she sat me.
I felt like I commanded the road.

If someone needed a ride?
“I’ve got them ALL—no worries.”

If my boss needed me to meet at storage for set design?
“I can get everything.”

She was that girl.

But…she was also 21 years old.

And she let me know it was time.

👉 When the brakes went out on the way back from Houston.

That was fun.
NOT.

The Search

So the hunt began.

And honestly…that wasn’t easy for me.

I wanted:

• space

• height

• leather

• a sunroof

• and (in my dream world) seating for 8

But reality started to set in.

They don’t make those big third rows like they used to.
And financially, it didn’t make sense for this season.

So I started talking to God about it.

And slowly…my perspective shifted.

👉 I’m actually almost done with carpools.

That season is changing.

So my search changed too.

Mid-size SUV.
Still tall.
Still leather.
Still sunroof.
Still me.

Narrowing it down

I landed on three:

• Land Cruiser

• 4Runner

• Genesis GV80

The Land Cruiser?
Beautiful…
but out of the price range I felt peace about.

The Genesis?
Stunning inside…
but lower to the ground and not the most reliable right now.

So…

👉 4Runner it was.

The One

We found her.

White.
Limited.
Sunroof.

And…

Redwood leather.

Not my original “tan dream”…
but I decided to do something I don’t always do easily:

👉 I put it in God’s hands.

No over-controlling.
No spiraling.

Just:

“Lord, if this is it…make it clear.”

The Wink

The car arrived.

I opened the door.
Sat in the driver’s seat.

And looked up.

Written across the windshield were the words:

“Jesus loves you.”

I just sat there.

Because after all the decisions…
all the adjusting…
all the letting go of what I thought it had to be…

It felt like a whisper:

👉 “We did good, Amy. This is your car.”

And then…this happened

My mother-in-law took it for a drive.

Now, if you know her, you know this:

She feels my brother-in-law Marc’s presence in dragonflies.

And would you believe…

She pulled back in and said a dragonfly had flown right into the windshield.

You can believe what you want…

But to us?

👉 That felt like Marc saying:
“Hey…this is GREAT.”

And I think that’s what I want you to take from this.

Not what car I bought.

Not what features it had.

But this:

👉 God is in the details.

Even the small ones.
Even the everyday ones.
Even the decisions we think are just “practical.”

You don’t have to get it perfect.

You just have to:

• listen

• adjust

• trust

• and take the next step

Because He meets you there.

Sometimes in a whisper.

Sometimes in a windshield.

And sometimes…

👉 in a dragonfly.

So goodbye to Mary Poppins…
thank you for carrying us through so many seasons.

And hello to something new.

I have a feeling…

this one is going to carry us just as well.

Spaghetti Sunday: Creamy Spicy Vodka Rigatoni with Meatballs (BerryFamily Favorite

Almost every Sunday in the Berry house, it’s pasta night. It started as something simple—and became a family tradition. It’s comforting. It’s nostalgic. It brings us all to the table (and let's be honest… sometimes back for seconds).

This week, I tried to break the code on a vodka sauce from one of our favorite local restaurants—and I think I nailed it. It’s creamy, dreamy, spicy, and so good I had to grab a spoon to “test” it… multiple times. 😏

Let’s dive in!

Ingredients:

• Olive oil

• ½ onion, chopped

• 2–3 cloves garlic, chopped

• 2 small cans tomato paste

• 1 cup mushrooms (I used fresh but you could use canned)

• 1 ¾ cups heavy whipping cream

• Cracked red pepper (to taste)

• Sea salt, pepper (to taste)

• Dried basil (about 1 tsp)

• 2 tbsp unsalted butter

• ½ cup fresh grated Parmesan

• ¾ cup reserved pasta water

• 1 package rigatoni

• Optional: Store-bought meatballs (I used Central Market’s and they were amazing)

How to Make It:

1. Start the pasta: Bring salted water to a boil and cook your rigatoni. Reserve ¾ cup pasta water before draining.

2. Sauté the base: In a large skillet, heat olive oil over medium. Add chopped onions and sauté until soft. Toss in the garlic and cook for another minute.

3. Build the flavor: Add tomato paste and mushrooms. Stir frequently and let it cook for about 4 minutes, allowing everything to caramelize slightly.

4. Creamy magic: Lower the heat and stir in the heavy cream. Let it gently bubble for 3–5 minutes.

5. Spice it up: Add cracked red pepper, sea salt, pepper, and dried basil. Stir in the butter and reserved pasta water.

6. Cheese, please: Fold in the Parmesan until melted and glossy.

7. Bring it all together: Add cooked pasta and meatballs. Stir to coat and serve piping hot.

That’s it!

Rich. Spicy. Silky. And done in about 30 minutes.
Perfect for Sundays—or literally any night you want something special without a ton of effort.

Let me know if you try it—and tag me if you do!
I’d love to know… what’s your favorite family dinner tradition?

Dear Little Girl…God Is in the Ordinary (Easter Edition)

Dear Little Girl,

You thought resurrection would feel bigger.

Louder.
Clearer.
More obvious.

But here you are…
on Easter morning, a little tired, a little foggy,
trying to find your footing after a full few days.

And I want you to notice something.

You’re still here.
Still talking to Me.
Still soft.
Still open.

That is resurrection too.

You stood this past week and honored someone you loved.

You showed up when it mattered.
You spoke the words.
You felt the weight of it… and the beauty.

And then…

You laughed with your sister.
You saw her differently.
You softened toward her in a way you hadn’t before.

That shift?

That is Me.

Not just in the prayer you spoke…
but in the way your heart changed afterward.

You are beginning to understand something that will set you free:

Not everything is yours to carry.

Not every situation is yours to fix.
Not every storm is yours to step into.

You can love…
without losing yourself.

You can care…
without controlling the outcome.

You can say,
“This is not mine to solve,”
and still be deeply compassionate.

That is growth.
That is healing.
That is Me in you.

And today…

You feel a little off.

Maybe it’s the emotions.
Maybe it’s the exhaustion.
Maybe it’s Will leaving for the summer.

But you wonder quietly,
“Where are You in this?”

I’m right here.

In the quiet drive.
In the studio.
In the little ones running toward you.

In the laughter around your table.
In the memories that still take your breath away.

Those moments?

They are not random.

They are reminders of My goodness.

You read it this morning and it stayed with you:

Celebration at its very best is a response to God’s goodness… not a reward for our own.

Yes.

That feeling when your dancers move closer and closer to you…
That moment when your boys are all together, laughing, alive, home…

You didn’t earn that.

That is My goodness.

And today, we celebrate Easter.

Not just that I died.
Not just that I rose.

But that I am still rising.

In you.

In your softened heart.
In your new perspective.
In your ability to see differently today than you did yesterday.

Resurrection is not just a moment in history.

It is happening in your life.

Right now.

So don’t miss it.

Don’t rush past it.

Don’t wait for something bigger to believe I’m here.

The ordinary moments that take your breath away…

That’s where I live.

Love,
God

Dear Little Girl…Love Always

In loving memory of Vahid—my parents’ neighbor and my dad’s “partner,” who showed me what it looks like to live a life of love, service, and quiet faithfulness. This one is for him.

Dear Little Girl,

There will be people in your life
who leave a mark so gentle…
so steady…
so full of love…

that even when they are gone,
you can still feel them.

You will remember:

not the loud moments,
not the flashy ones…

but the quiet faithfulness.

The way they showed up.
The way they cared.
The way they lived.

And one day,
you will lose one of those people.

And it will feel…

final.

Heavy.

Unexplainable.

Because death has a way
of making everything feel still.

But here is what I want you to know:

Love does not end where life does.

It lingers.

In memories.
In stories.
In the way someone made you feel.

And sometimes…

in the most beautiful way…

it continues.

You will picture them again.

Not sick.
Not weak.

But whole.

Laughing.
Talking.
Reunited.

And for you…

you will see something sacred:

Two souls sitting together again.
Partners.
Friends.
Connected beyond this life.

And it will bring you comfort.

Dear Little Girl,

You are learning something about love
that many people miss:

It is not measured
by what someone says…

but by how they live.

By how they show up
when it matters most.

By the quiet ways they care
when no one is watching.

That kind of love?

It is rare.

And when you witness it…

you are witnessing God.

Because God is love.

And people like that…

they reflect Him.

So when someone like that leaves,
it is okay to feel the ache.

It means it mattered.

It means they mattered.

But don’t let the ache
make you forget the gift.

You were given the chance
to see what love looks like in action.

And now…

you carry it forward.

Dear Little Girl,

Let this be what you remember:

Love big.
Love small.
Love in the ordinary.
Love in the unseen.

Because in the end…

that is what lasts.

Not the noise.
Not the things.

Just love.

Always.

🤍

Why Your Body Feels Tight (And It’s Not What You Think)

There’s a phrase I use a lot with my clients:
“stuck stress.”

And no — it’s not just emotional.
It’s physical.

It lives in your connective tissue — your fascia — the system that supports, stabilizes, protects, and connects your entire body.

And when it gets dehydrated or compressed from stress, sitting, overuse, or even just life…

You feel it.

Not always as pain.
Sometimes as:
– stiffness
– fatigue
– poor sleep
– that “off” feeling you can’t explain

I see it all the time.
In active people. In healthy people. In people who are doing everything right.

Because this isn’t about doing more.
It’s about doing something different.

Learning how to:
✨ reconnect

✨ reblance
✨ rehydrate
✨ release

These are part of what we call the 4 R’s of MELT —
and this is where your MELT practice begins.

This is what I teach.
And it’s simpler than you think.

And the beautiful part?

It’s gentle.
AND…
And it works.

You don’t have to live in a body that feels stuck.

You can:
– move with ease
– live with less pain
– and feel at home in your body again

And that… changes everything.

If you’re ready to learn more,
I’d love to walk alongside you.

💌 Email me at amy@worthyheart.com
or DM me on Instagram @worthy.heart

Let’s get you started on your healing journey.

Happy Melting!

🩵

Dear Little Girl…You Don’t Have to Be Enough…God Already Is

Dear Little Girl,

You’re trying so hard to hold it all together.

You have a full day ahead — Sunday School, clients, classes, people depending on you — and somehow, underneath it all, there’s this quiet question:
Am I doing enough? Am I enough? Can I keep this up?

You’re asking God for strength…
but then wondering why you still feel so tired.

You’re holding hope for your children,
healing for your heart,
and pieces of your story that still feel tender.

And yet… you keep showing up.

But listen closely, sweet girl:

God isn’t asking you to be enough.
He’s asking you to let Him be.

He’s already in your story —
not just in the breakthroughs,
but in the overwhelm,
the uncertainty,
the moments where you feel like you’re holding your breath just trying to get through the day.

Remember Jacob from the Bible? (Genesis 28)

He didn’t have it together.
He was messy, afraid, and unsure of what was next…

And that’s exactly where God met him.

Not after he fixed everything.
Not after he proved himself.

Right there.
In the middle of it all.

And maybe that’s where you are too.

Not running…
but moving fast enough to avoid feeling everything underneath.

And beneath it all is a quiet prayer:
“God… please meet me here.”

He will.

He already is.

So today…
take the next step.
Not ten steps ahead — just the next one.

Offer your presence, not perfection.

And when the weight rises in your chest…
pause.

Breathe.

And remember:

God’s faithfulness isn’t dependent on your hustle.
His love isn’t waiting on your performance.

He is with you.
Right here.
Right now.

A Question to Journal On:
Where am I trying to earn what God has already freely given me?

A Prayer for the Girl Who’s Carrying Too Much

Dear God,
Thank You for meeting me right here — not when I have it all together, but in the middle of my real, messy, beautiful life.

Remind me that I don’t have to prove anything to You.
I don’t have to earn Your love.
I don’t have to hold everything on my own.

Help me release the weight I was never meant to carry.
My children, my fears, my future, my need to get it all right — I place it back in Your hands.

Slow me down when I start to strive.
Quiet my heart when I start to question.
And gently remind me… You are already here.

You are in this story.
Every part of it.

And I am safe with You.

Amen.

With love,
Worthy 🤍

Norwegian vs. Royal vs. Disney: My Honest Cruise Review (From a Mom Who’s Done All Three)

We just got back from a cruise… and let’s just say—I have thoughts 😅

If you’re trying to decide between Norwegian, Royal Caribbean, and Disney, I’ve now experienced all three—and they are very different.

So here’s my honest, real-life, no-fluff breakdown.

✨ Norwegian (NCL)
Slower. More relaxed. Less structured… and I LOVED that.

No set dinner time. No assigned seating. No rushing to make a reservation.

After years of cruising where dinner felt like a scheduled event you had to plan your whole evening around… this felt like freedom.

And honestly? That alone might bring me back.

(Side note: we once had a dinner table situation on another cruise that involved a very loud man oversharing things NO ONE needed to hear… so yeah… flexibility = blessing.)

Let’s talk: Rooms + Layout

Our Norwegian room felt less cluttered, which I liked… but the layout wasn’t ideal.

Once we pulled out Graeme’s bed, it became a full obstacle course trying to get to the bathroom at night 😅

BUT—
The bathroom? AMAZING.

• Bigger than Royal

• Huge shower

• Way more functional

So I’ll take that trade-off.

Now on to: Food + Dining

The food was good—similar richness to Royal.

(If I’m being honest… by the end of the week, I’m always craving something light and simple again.)

What stood out more was how Norwegian handles upcharges.

They are… creative 😅

Not bad—just something to be aware of.

That said, we had more options and felt less pressure around dining, which made the whole experience more enjoyable.

And can we talk about the people serving us?

Every single person was kind, attentive, and genuinely happy.
I don’t fully understand how their tipping system works—but it clearly does.

And next up: Pools + Deck Life

Norwegian’s setup is different:

• Smaller infinity-style pools (which were really cool)

• One main pool

• No true adults-only pool unless you pay extra and there still was not a pool…😅

That part surprised me.

BUT… I found my spot.

Right by the splash pad where tiny droplets would hit me just enough to cool off while sunbathing.

It was perfect. Like my own little hidden oasis.

Let’s not forget: Kids + Activities

Norwegian did NOT disappoint here.

• Race track (so cool)

• Escape room

• Amazing kids area

Graeme’s official review:

👉 “Royal is better.” 😂

Why?

Because Norwegian shuts things down earlier (around 9–10pm), and Royal keeps the party going.

So if you have teens who want late-night energy—Royal wins.

Oh and the fun stuff: Entertainment + Ship Life

This is where Norwegian really surprised me.

• We saw Beetlejuice the musical (SO good)

• Fun themed nights (we went to “prom”… and yes, it was actually fun 😅)

• Unique bars everywhere:

  • Whiskey bar

  • Wine bar

  • Cigar bar

  • Live entertainment spaces

And my personal favorite…

✨ The Observation Lounge

Coffee + whipped cream + those views??

I was living my best life.

For those in their Health Era: Spa + Wellness

The spa on Norwegian is next level.

• Salt rooms

• Charcoal saunas

• Thermal pools

You can buy a day pass or a full-week package, and it’s honestly a whole experience in itself.

Biggest Surprise of all: The Ports

We hit 4 ports in 7 days, and I thought that would feel rushed…

But I LOVED it.

🌴 Cozumel

We actually got off this time and snorkeled the reef—SO fun.
Fresh shrimp ceviche made by the crew? Yes please.

🌴 Harvest Caye (Belize – Norwegian’s private island)

Super cute, easy, relaxing.
Beach + food + shops… then rain rolled in and we went back to nap.
No complaints.

🌴 Roatan (FAVORITE)

This place has my heart.

We:

• Zip-lined through the jungle

• Ate lunch on the beach

• Soaked in the joy of the people there

If you go—visit the animal sanctuary and hold the sloths.
It’s worth it 🥹

🌴 Costa Maya

Used to not love it… now I do.

We found our spot:
✨ Ya Ya Beach Club

Same waiter two years in a row—Gregario (the best).
Massages on the beach.
The BEST guacamole.

10/10 every time.

Final Thoughts

Each cruise line has its lane:

✨ Norwegian → Relaxed, flexible, less pressure
✨ Royal Caribbean → High energy, more activities, teen-friendly
✨ Disney → Pure magic (especially for younger families)

For me?

This trip reminded me how much I value:

• Flexibility

• Thoughtful spaces

• Experiences that feel easy, not scheduled

Drum Roll Please what’s next 👀

I made a little promise to myself:

👉 Plan the next trip while you’re still on the current one.

And I did.

Trey and I are heading to
✨ Secrets Huatulco, Mexico this June

And I already love having something to look forward to.

I guess you could say…

I’m officially in my travel more, stress less, find the magic where you are era ✨