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…Protect Your Peace

Dear Little Girl,

There will be moments when you look around and wonder if everyone else is ahead of you.

Someone else's marriage will look easier.
Someone else's family will seem more peaceful.
Someone else's success will feel louder.
Someone else's life will look more certain.

And before you realize it, your heart will start measuring.

Am I behind?
Did I miss something?
Why does their life seem easier than mine?

But comparison is a thief that quietly steals your peace.

God never asked you to carry someone else’s story.

You were never meant to live someone else's calling, marriage, timeline, or path.

You were created for your life.

The one with its twists.
Its healing.
Its slow growth.
Its unexpected beauty.

When you fix your eyes on what someone else has, you begin to lose sight of what God is doing in you.

Peace doesn’t grow in comparison.

Peace grows in trust.

Trust that God knows your story.
Trust that your timing is not a mistake.
Trust that the life you are living is the one He is shaping.

So when the noise of comparison gets loud…

Come back to stillness.
Come back to gratitude.
Come back to the quiet truth that God is writing a story in you that no one else could live.

And that story is enough.

Love,
Amy

Worthy Heart

A Monday Morning Reflection

Yesterday in church our pastor talked about the cost and the benefit of following Jesus.

At first, the cost looked like early mornings.

But somewhere along the way those early mornings became my favorite part of the day.

Those quiet moments with Jesus are where these Dear Little Girl letters are born.
And maybe, just maybe, they are reaching someone who needs them.

Sometimes I catch myself wishing it all moved faster.

More readers.
More responses.
Speaking opportunities.
The book written already.

But today I realized something.

I am actually at peace with where I am.

The last two weeks have been incredibly busy at the studio. My life is full of dance, MELT, kids, and family. Six years ago I never could have imagined this life.

Back then I thought my future looked completely different.

But God knew better.

When I look around, comparison still tries to sneak in.

I see marriages that look easier.
Couples sharing wine at dinner.
People traveling more.
New cars.
Beautiful homes.

And if I’m not careful, my heart starts measuring again.

But the truth is…

I don’t know the cost of someone else’s life.

And when I stop comparing and start counting my blessings, I see something entirely different.

Will is thriving and knows the Lord.
JP is finding his way in New York and just landed his first gig.
Graeme, even when he gives me a run for the money, has the sweetest heart.

And yesterday, as I watched the children in our show — some with special needs — I was reminded again how much we have to be grateful for.

My life may not look like what I once imagined.

But it is so good.

Or maybe the better word is and.

It is different and it is good.

Yesterday our pastor shared a quote by Dallas Willard that stuck with me:

"Discipleship to Jesus is the greatest opportunity we will ever have in life."

The truth is, following Jesus changes everything.

Getting to know Him slowly transforms the way you see your life, your struggles, your relationships, and even your dreams.

And those quiet mornings with Him?

They are like treasure hidden in a field.

They are like oil under the surface in Texas.

More valuable than anything else I own.

Because in those moments Jesus gives me something the world cannot give:

Peace in the middle of pain.
Joy in the middle of uncertainty.
Love even when I feel alone.

That is the real benefit of walking with Him.

And that is how we protect our peace.

Not by having a perfect life.

But by choosing to meet with Jesus every day and trusting that the story He is writing in us is exactly the one we are meant to live.

Prayer

Jesus,

Thank you for these quiet mornings.

Thank you for the mornings when I am grateful.
And the mornings when I am angry and you calm my heart.
The mornings when I am afraid and you help me breathe.
The mornings when I am so sad all I can do is cry and you simply sit with me.
And the mornings when my thoughts bounce everywhere like a ping-pong ball and you gently bring me back to peace.

Thank you for loving me.

Thank you for loving my family.

Thank you for the story you are writing in my life — even when I cannot see where it is going.

Help me keep my eyes on you and not on comparison.

Remind me that your timing is never a mistake.

And help every person reading this remember that you are writing a beautiful story in their life too.

Amen.