Aloha and Amen

There’s something about being here.

Maybe it’s the sound of the ocean. Maybe it’s the way the sunsets wrap the sky in peace. Or maybe it’s just that I’ve finally let myself breathe.

This season in Honolulu has been quiet, gentle, and deeply personal. I didn’t come here to chase anything. I came to rest. To heal. To listen.

Life shifted in a way I didn’t expect. The path I thought I was on suddenly changed.

And still... God brought me here.

It was His plan all along for me to be here. Of that, I’m sure.

But since life changed, He’s now redirecting the reason. What once felt clear has taken a different shape. And honestly, I can’t imagine if things had gone the way I thought they would.

Even in the shift, I trust Him. He’s still turning it for good, like He always does.

I’m not quite sure what God has for me here, and maybe that’s the point. Maybe it’s not about doing, but simply being. Letting Him speak into the stillness.

And somewhere in that stillness, something has started to stir.

I’m not rushing it. I’m letting God write this next part, slowly, intentionally. All I know is that when He moves, it’s always better than anything I could have planned.

For now, I’m just here. Soaking in the beauty, giving thanks for the grace I’ve been shown, and holding close whatever it is that’s quietly unfolding.

Something is coming. But first, I rest.

This season I’m in, I’m calling it my Aloha and Amen because what once felt like a tsunami that took me out, left me grasping for air in a sea of emotions. But in the depths, I felt God’s love in every moment I cried. And now, I know there’s grace with every wave.

The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. ~ Matthew 7:25