"The Fingerprints of Faithfulness."
This past week I found myself sitting in a moment of quiet reflection and thanksgiving.
Come August, it will have been nineteen years since my two youngest daughters and I packed up our lives and relocated to Northern Virginia to be closer to my oldest daughter and my grandchildren.
Nineteen years.
It hardly seems possible.
Those years have been filled with everything life can hold—highs and lows, defeats and victories, tears and laughter, disappointments and unexpected blessings. Looking back, I can honestly say that had it not been for God's guidance, His protection, His patience, and His provision, I don't believe we would have the same story to tell today.
Every step bears the fingerprints of His faithfulness.
Recently, someone at work made a comment that caught me by surprise.
"I never hear you complain."
I smiled and told them the truth.
"I make it a priority not to complain."
Not because life has been easy.
Not because I haven't experienced heartbreak.
Not because I haven't known betrayal.
But because if I were to share my journey with them, they might better understand why I choose gratitude over grumbling.
I've learned that I don't complain about the how of my story because it took the what to get me to the how.
It was the painful chapters that introduced me to the faithfulness of God.
It was betrayal that taught me the security of His love.
It was loss that revealed His provision.
It was brokenness that allowed Him to display His healing.
Even after relocating, the enemy of my soul was not finished trying to snuff out the purpose God had placed on my life.
One May morning four years ago while driving to work, my car suddenly experienced a mechanical malfunction. Without warning, it shot forward at breakneck speed, causing me to become involved in a six-car accident.
By every human standard, the outcome should have been devastating.
Yet God.
Every single person involved walked away with only minor bruises. The only things lost that day were vehicles. No lives were taken.
As I look back on that morning, I realize it became another testimony of God's preserving hand. It reminded me that when God has ordained a purpose for your life, the enemy may attack, but he cannot overrule God's sovereign will. My life has never been in the hands of chance. It has always been safely held in the hands of my Heavenly Father.
There were also people who believed they could destroy me.
They plotted.
They schemed.
They hoped I would never recover.
What they failed to understand is that I belong to God.
I am His beloved.
No plot conceived by man is greater than the purpose established by God.
Psalm 2 paints a powerful picture of God sitting in the heavens and laughing—not because evil is amusing, but because no earthly scheme can overthrow His sovereign plan. He already knows the outcome before the first move is ever made.
Once God raises His mighty right hand on behalf of His children, nothing anyone devises against His purpose can ultimately prosper.
Looking back now, I can clearly see what I couldn't see then.
I can see His unseen, providential hand weaving every painful thread into something beautiful.
What once felt like the unraveling of my life was actually God stitching together my testimony.
Today, I have the privilege of sharing that testimony—a testimony of God's deliverance from a toxic relationship and His unwavering faithfulness through every season that followed.
People sometimes wonder why there is no hatred in my heart.
Why I hold no unforgiveness toward my former spouse for the cruelty that was shown to me.
Why I carry no bitterness toward those who knowingly participated in the plot against me.
The answer isn't complicated.
Grace found me.
Mercy carried me.
Peace healed me.
Forgiveness freed me.
And God restored me.
I've learned that bitterness would have kept me chained to yesterday, while forgiveness allowed me to walk into the future God had already prepared for me.
So I don't feel the need to defend my heart with long explanations.
I don't need to convince anyone that forgiveness is possible.
Instead, I simply point them to my life.
Point them to the peace that now fills it.
Point them to the grace that sustains it.
Point them to the mercy I have received.
Point them to the victory God has given me.
Point them to the blessings that continue to overflow.
Because my life has become the answer.
Nineteen years later, I am still standing.
Not because I was strong enough.
Not because I figured life out.
But because God never let go of my hand.
If my story proves anything, it is this:
People may write chapters in your story, but only God gets to write the ending.
So today, I pause to thank Him.
For nineteen years of faithfulness.
For every closed door that became divine protection.
For every tear that watered future joy.
For every battle He fought that I never even knew existed.
For every attack that failed because His hand was upon my life.
And for allowing me the privilege of turning what the enemy meant for evil into a testimony that now points others to the goodness of God.
"You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done..." — Genesis 50:20
To God be the glory—for every mile, every lesson, every victory, and every breath of this beautiful journey.
Grace & Peace,
Mama Wisdom 🌿
