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…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