When your soul feels like it is moving backward, it may not be failure, but an invitation. Regression in the reconstruction journey can be the place where God is doing the deepest hidden work.

What if the slowing we crave is not something that happens when everything else stops, but something we practice right in the middle of the swirl?

The slowing is not an escape. It is how we return.

I am Your beloved child.

I am seen and heard by You, O God.

I am formed from dust, yet filled with Your glory.

I am not lost, for You are Immanuel, God with us,

and I abide in You.

When the church aligns with the empire, it loses its prophetic voice.

We are nearer to the point of no return than many of us want to admit. If we continue to ignore it, the chaos will overtake us. The way forward is not louder arguments or sharper defenses. It begins with lament.

Reconnecting to our roots can reclaim pride, dignity, and belonging.

When deception feels more organized than truth, and power speaks louder than compassion, urban mystics are called to stay rooted—refusing numbness, reclaiming sacred rhythms, and living a faith that looks like Jesus, not empire.

Naming the pain gave me something I didn’t have before: a choice—a choice to forgive and let go.

Spiritual direction isn’t just for the mystics or the monks. It’s for you. It’s for anyone who’s longing to live more awake to God’s presence, more anchored in grace, and more courageous in your own story.

God’s family is wide.
Christ’s table is long.
Let’s make room for every story.

You can be part of the remnant without being part of the system.