Day 3- Walk

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Walk doesn’t feel big or splashy like awareness or surrender and it isn’t supposed to.

Walking is choosing, day by day, to slow down and be led. It is deciding to stay close because God is not in a hurry. He rarely gives us all the steps at once, not because He is withholding, but because He knows how quickly we would run ahead of Him.

We can’t see what He sees.

We don’t see the danger ahead, the heartbreak we’re not ready for, or even the blessings our character can’t yet sustain.

Walking builds endurance.

Walking with God is a posture of trust.

Obedience builds confidence.

When you take the first step He’s given and discover He meets you there, something shifts. Then you take the next step. And then another. Over time, you begin to recognize the rhythm of His leading.

People often ask, “How do I know if this next step is God or just me?”

One guide is this: God’s steps may cost us comfort, and they may even break our pride, but they are never reckless.

God may lead us into pressure that exposes our weakness or strips away what we rely on, but He does not abandon us in it. His steps are purposeful, even when they feel heavy. Refining, not random.

If a step is driven by urgency, fear, or the need to control the outcome, it is likely coming from us. God’s leading may be difficult, but it carries His peace beneath the weight.

Scripture anchors this promise for us:

“Walk in obedience to all that the Lord your God has commanded you, so that you may live and prosper and prolong your days in the land that you will possess.”

Deuteronomy 5:33 (NIV)

This promise isn’t about speed or success it’s about a life that is sustained, steady, and protected through obedience.

Walking with God is not about speed.

It is about staying close.

And today, faithfulness looks like taking the next step you already know and trusting God with the rest.

Day 2-Surrender

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Jeremiah 13:1–7

God told Jeremiah to buy a belt, take a long journey to hide it, then return later to dig it up. When he finally retrieved it, the belt was ruined—no longer useful.

Jeremiah wasn’t told why at the beginning.

He didn’t receive the full explanation upfront.

He obeyed first—and understanding came later.

Each step required trust. Each instruction revealed only what was needed for the next act of obedience. God did not give Jeremiah the full picture, only the next direction.

This is often how God works with us.

When we are determined to follow our own way, it becomes difficult to hear God’s. Our expectations, timelines, and assumptions can drown out His voice.

Day one was about awareness, revelation.

God, reveal in me my blind spots.

Day two is about surrender.

Our prayer today is not complicated, but it is costly:

Lord, Your plan, not mine.

Help me release the outcome and what I think this season should look like.

Help me see things from Your perspective, not my own.

Teach me to wait for each step.

Give me a willing heart to obey, even when the full plan isn’t clear.

Today, we loosen our grip and allow God to lead again.

We surrender our attitude of expectation and trust His direction.

God’s ways are not our ways.

Surrender is how we realign ourselves to His.

Day 1-Examine

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This is what the Lord says:

“Stand at the crossroads and look;
    ask for the ancient paths,
ask where the good way is, and walk in it,
    and you will find rest for your souls.
    But you said, ‘We will not walk in it.’ Jeremiah 6:16 NIV

How is your soul feeling today?

Do you feel rested?

On day one, we pause to examine where we really are in our daily walk with God. On paper, you may be doing all the “right” things—reading Scripture, studying the Word, gathering with other believers, watching or attending church. And those things matter. But they can still remain surface-level.

Is it possible that some of this has become lip service?

The Israelites were doing many of these same religious practices, yet they were also worshiping Baal and other gods—right in the temple of God. Maybe they thought they could cover all their bases. A spiritual two-for-one deal. That sounds extreme… but do we do the same thing?

How often are you trying to make a way instead of waiting on God’s way?

How often are you “helping” God along because it feels like He’s moving too slowly?

Notice what God says in this verse: ask for the good way—and walk in it—and you will find rest for your souls.

Not run.

Not rush.

Walk.

How often are you actually asking God about His plans for you—and then waiting for His response?

This intentional time is about clearing out the noise so we can hear more of God and less of ourselves, less of the pressure, less of outside influence. It’s an opportunity to realign—to check whether we’ve wandered off the path while waiting, simply because waiting felt too long.

The beautiful thing about God is that His way is clear. And if we’ve drifted, we are always invited to return.

Prayer

Lord, show me what I’ve ignored. Reveal where I’ve been moving blindly in my own way instead of following You.

Show me where I’ve been going through the motions—doing what looks right, but with a heart that wasn’t fully after Yours. Gently lead me back to Your path. Remind me of Your plans for me—plans for good.Give me the rest, peace, and strength that only You can give.

Amen.

Until next time,

Dominique

Returning to Discipline

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I’ve talked about fasting a lot over the years because I genuinely love the discipline of it — and the closeness with God that comes from it.

That Lent, I fasted red meat for forty days and pork for about thirty. That was a big deal for me. Red meat is my favorite. I stuck with it, and I was proud of the follow-through.

But spiritually? I didn’t get much out of it.

I also fasted social media, and that made a noticeable difference. When you stop scrolling, you’re forced to do something else — think, pray, sit with yourself. That alone will reveal a lot.

Right before Easter, my care group did a different kind of fast: no food from 8 p.m. until 3 p.m. the next day, for three days.

That one scared me.

I like three meals a day. And years ago, when I struggled with hypoglycemia, skipping meals could literally make me pass out. But as I’ve gotten older, that issue has eased, so I decided to try.

And it changed everything.

Every day around 10:30 a.m., the hunger hit. Instead of grabbing food, I prayed. I talked to God. I distracted myself with sermons — Steven Furtick, Sarah Jakes Roberts — anything to redirect my focus.

Being hungry made me aware.

More aware than giving up a specific food ever had. When I fasted meat, the cravings came and went. I didn’t sit with them long enough for them to shape me.

But hunger lingered. And because it lingered, it turned into conversation with God.

I realized then: fasting isn’t about deprivation.
It’s about attention.

That fast did two things.
It brought me closer to God.
It reminded me that I could do hard things.

And that matters more than we admit.

Discipline is transferable.

Spiritual disciplines aren’t just about being “good” or “holy.” They train you. If you can be disciplined in one area of your life, it spills into others — writing, leadership, health, obedience, follow-through.

Discipline builds trust. Not just with God, but with yourself.

And when discipline slips, it doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It means it’s time to return. To listen again. To get up — maybe not at 4:30 yet, but closer than yesterday.

Because God is still knocking.
And the dream is still waiting.

This three-day fast didn’t begin with a plan. It began with a reminder. Discipline is still the doorway. Hunger still sharpens attention. And God still meets us when we choose to listen.

Over the next few days, I’ll be sharing reflections from our recent three-day food fast — not as experts, but as people learning to return.

Until next time,

Dominique

When Discipline Fades

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I wrote the original version of this post almost five years ago, in the thick of the pandemic, when time felt endless and discipline felt optional. Reading it now, I can see two things were true then — and honestly, they’re still true now:

I hadn’t lost my desire.
I had loosened my discipline.

Lately, I’ve felt a little out of control. Not in a dramatic way — just enough to notice. I had been doing well. I knew what worked for me spiritually. But slowly, quietly, the habits that anchored me started slipping.

Discipline doesn’t usually disappear all at once.
It fades.

Back then, I was used to waking up at 5:30 a.m. to write. That rhythm mattered. Writing requires discipline at the highest level — not inspiration, not vibes, not waiting to “feel ready.” Just showing up.

So when God started waking me up at 4:30 a.m., I was irritated. Honestly? A little offended.

Like… sir, 4:30??
I’m going to bed later.
I’m not prepared for this.

Most mornings, I’d lie there, pretending not to hear Him, trying to fall back asleep. That plan did not work. At all.

Even when I didn’t get up, I couldn’t un-hear the invitation.

And that’s what it was — an invitation. Not pressure. Not punishment. God refusing to let me get too busy, too distracted, or too comfortable to abandon the thing He put in me to do.

I don’t want to be someone who wants to write a book.
I want to be someone who writes one.

I’m grateful that I still recognize His prompting and even more grateful that when I ask, “What are You doing?” He still answers.

Until next time,

Dominique

Three books that had an impact on me

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Daily writing prompt
List three books that have had an impact on you. Why?
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The Books That Stayed With Me

I read 100 books last year, so trying to narrow that down to three feels almost impossible. But I love this prompt, so I’m giving it a try—not by ranking, but by naming the books that lingered. The ones that shaped how I think, how I move, how I pray, and how I see the world.

Rebecca Not Becky

Catherine Wiggington Greene & Christine Platt

This book challenged me in necessary ways. It forced me to sit with hard truths about race, faith, and performative allyship, especially within Christian spaces. It asked questions many people are uncomfortable asking and named dynamics many people prefer to ignore. It didn’t just inform me; it unsettled me, and that’s often where growth begins. It may be as a black woman look at the lived experience of white women in a different way and that was a good thing.

The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry

John Mark Comer

This book felt like a mirror. It confronted my pace, my productivity, and my quiet addiction to busyness. It reframed spiritual maturity not as doing more for God, but being more with God. In a culture that rewards exhaustion, this book gave me permission—and conviction—to slow down and reorder my life around presence instead of pressure. I love the way he writes, so friendly and conversational, plus he reads a ton so he has a lot of references, which I loved. I enjoy everything he writes and he is a Millenial like me.

Twelve Ordinary Men

John F. MacArthur

John MacArthur is a OG in bible study. What I appreciate about this book is that it was easy to understand and apply to everyday life. What stood out to me most here was the reminder that God consistently works through ordinary people. No polish. No platforms. Just availability, obedience, and time. It challenged the modern obsession with gifting and influence and pulled me back to faithfulness. A quiet but grounding read.

The 1619 Project

Nikole Hannah-Jones

This wasn’t just educational—it was clarifying. It reframed American history in a way that demands honesty and maturity. It reminded me that truth-telling is an act of courage, and that understanding the past is essential if we’re serious about shaping a better future. This book expanded my lens and deepened my resolve.

Awakening

Stovall Weems

This book landed at the right time. It spoke to leadership, repentance, and the cost of ignoring internal warning signs. It was sobering and reflective, especially for anyone in ministry or influence. A reminder that spiritual awakening often comes after painful honesty.

Razorblade Tears

S.A. Cosby

This one surprised me. Beneath the violence and grit was a deeply human story about grief, masculinity, fatherhood, and redemption. It was raw and uncomfortable, but also tender in unexpected places. Proof that fiction can sometimes tell the truth in ways nonfiction can’t. S.A. Cosby is soo good. Once I read this book, I wanted to read everything by him.

Final Thoughts

Looking at this list now, I notice a theme: formation.

These books shaped me spiritually, intellectually, and emotionally. They slowed me down, stretched me, and asked more of me than passive consumption.

If you’re looking for reads that don’t just entertain but transform, these are a good place to start.

The best ones don’t end when you turn the last page…they keep working on you long after.

Writing about Dominique

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Daily writing prompt
Write about your first name: its meaning, significance, etymology, etc.
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What’s in a Name?

I love this prompt. A name is so important. It’s one of the first things we’re given, long before we understand who we are or what we’ll become. A name is spoken over us before we can speak for ourselves.

My first name is Dominique.

Dominique means “belonging to God.”

I didn’t know that growing up. I’m pretty sure my parents didn’t either. There was no deep theological conversation, no baby-name book marked with meaning and origin. I was told my name came from the culture of the time. Either Dominique Devereaux from Dynasty or Dominique Wilkins, the basketball player.

It was the 80s. What could you expect?

A Name Before Its Meaning

For most of my life, Dominique was just a name. Something I answered to. Something teachers mispronounced. Something people commented on—“That’s different,” “That’s pretty,” “Is it French?”

It wasn’t until much later that I learned its actual meaning. Belonging to God. Of the Lord. Dedicated to God.

And when I learned that, it hit differently.

Not dramatically at first. A realization that settled slowly and then began to explain things I hadn’t had language for before.

Belonging Changes Everything

To belong to God isn’t just poetic. It’s directional.

It implies ownership, yes—but also care, responsibility, and purpose. It means you are not random. Not self-made. Not drifting without direction, even when it feels like you are.

Looking back, the meaning of my name explains a lot:

  • Why striving never fully satisfied me
  • Why people-pleasing always felt exhausting
  • Why I felt tension when I was busy but not aligned
  • Why I kept circling back to faith, purpose, and obedience even after seasons of distance

I spent years trying to belong everywhere—work, relationships, roles—when my name had already answered the belonging question.

The Irony of the 80s Inspiration

I think it’s fitting, actually, that my name came from pop culture icons of the 80s. A glamorous TV character. A dominant athlete. Strength, visibility, confidence, success.

And yet the deeper meaning of my name isn’t about image or dominance in the worldly sense.

What started as a cultural choice became a spiritual calling.

Living Into a Name

I don’t believe names determine destiny in a mystical way. But I do believe they can reveal something true when we’re ready to see it.

My name reminds me, especially in seasons when I’m tired, striving, or unsure, that I don’t have to prove myself into worth or earn my place.

I already belong.

And maybe that’s the work of a lifetime: not becoming someone new, but remembering who you’ve always been.

Daily Writing Prompt Reflection:
If you’ve never looked up your name, I highly recommend it. Not because it will tell you who you must be—but because it might gently remind you who you already are.

Sometimes meaning catches up later. And sometimes, it was there all along.

Making people uncomfortable

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HaileyPaigeMagee who is basically my IG therapist (LOL) is putting out great content about breaking people pleasing. One thing she said was

In order to break the people-pleasing pattern, we must learn how to sit with discomfort instead of reacting to it, including:

  • The discomfort of others being unhappy with us
  • The discomfort of letting others handle their own problems instead of rushing in to fix them
  • The discomfort of having difficult, honest conversations about our needs and boundaries

The discomfort that comes when we realize that others’ happiness isn’t our responsibility, but our own happiness is.

This was revoluntary for me because I didn’t want to disappoint anyone but realizing that adults could be disappointed and that was ok ,was big for me. That they would still like me, that they wouldn’t stop talking to me was big. I still struggle with this one, but I have gotten much better.

I still struggle with the discomfort of having difficult conversations, I don’t want to make people feel bad.I also don’t want to give negative feedback but sometimes people don’t realize how they are coming across and since they asked we should tell them.

I had to realize what was mine to hold and what I had to let go of.

Its interesting that I was more worried about disappointing other people than I was in disappointing myself.

Hailey says to recognize if you are people pleasing, do your insides match your outsides? Do you feel happy or do you feel anxious and resentful? I would take it a step further and ask how did you feel when it was over, do you feel warm and fuzzy or are you now going over all the things you said in your head. That probably isn’t the place you should be.

Until next time,

Dominique

When you don’t feel like yourself

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There are seasons in life when you just don’t feel like yourself. You can’t quite explain it, but something’s off. Here’s what that looked like for me—five stages I walked through to come out on the other side:

1. Isolation
I pulled away. I stopped talking as much, stopped showing up like I usually do. I was trying to dig myself out of a hole, but I was doing it alone—and it wasn’t working.

2. Reaching Out
Eventually, I told a few people what was happening and asked for prayer. They didn’t just say “I’ll pray for you”—they prayed for me right then and there. Hearing them talk to God on my behalf was healing in itself. Being vulnerable was scary, but it worked. They prayed, they encouraged me, and they helped me see things from a different perspective.

3. Crying Out to God
I started to cry out to God in my own time. I looked back through my notebooks, found highlighted verses, and reminded myself of what I already knew but had forgotten. It didn’t happen overnight, but little by little, I started feeling better.

4. Choosing to Show Up
Even when I didn’t feel like it, I kept tapping into God. I kept praying, kept listening to sermons, kept playing worship music. Sometimes our feelings have to catch up to where we are spiritually. You may never feel like doing the thing—but doing it anyway? That’s often when breakthrough happens.

I started going to events and gatherings, even when I didn’t want to. Being around friends and family helped me get out of my own head. Sometimes we just need to be around other people to remember that we’re not alone.

5. Surrendering to the Process
I recognized something was really wrong. I’d been going through the motions but hadn’t realized how off I was. I asked the Holy Spirit to pray for me because I didn’t have the words. I felt stuck. So I started praying for other people—and that helped a lot. It got my focus off myself. I was tired of hearing myself complain, tired of being in the same spot.

Then I came across this verse:

“For the kind of sorrow God wants us to experience leads us away from sin and results in salvation. There’s no regret for that kind of sorrow. But worldly sorrow, which lacks repentance, results in spiritual death.”
— 2 Corinthians 7:10 (NLT)

That hit me hard. I realized I was feeling spiritual death, not feeling anything at all. My sorrow had turned me inward, away from God, and that wasn’t helping me heal.

So I started praying:
“God, give me power to push through, discipline to get it done, and compassion for myself.”

Keep Your Mind Stayed on Him
Isaiah 26:3 talks about perfect peace for those whose minds are stayed on God. But how do we keep our thoughts fixed on Him?

For me, that meant consistency: listening to gospel music, pausing to pray, tuning into sermons—anything that lifted me up. I realized I needed more than just mindless activities. Scrolling isn’t bad, but it’s junk food. It gives a quick hit of relief, but it can’t sustain you or help you grow.

Try This:
Is there something you need to ask for prayer about?
Write down 1–2 people you trust and reach out to them this week. Ask them to pray with you—right then and there.

You’re not alone. And even if you don’t feel like yourself right now, healing is happening. One step at a time. One day at a time.

If you’re in a season where you don’t feel like yourself, know this: you’re not broken, you’re becoming. God is still with you, even in the fog. Healing doesn’t always come with fireworks; sometimes it shows up in small steps, quiet moments, and brave decisions to keep going when you don’t feel like it.

Don’t be afraid to reach out. Don’t hesitate to pray, even if all you can say is “help.” Keep showing up. Keep listening for His voice. Keep doing the things that feed your soul, not just distract your mind.

You will feel like yourself again. Maybe not all at once, but day by day, God will restore your joy, your strength, and your sense of purpose.

You’re not alone, and you’re not stuck. You’re growing. Keep going.

The Power of Should

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Things that destroy your self acceptance don’t come into your life fully grown.-Steven Furtnick (book title) p.84

They sneak up on you out of nowhere. Its little seeds of doubt that we water every time we worry instead of prayer. Every time we don’t show up for ourselves and let ourselves down, by doing the thing we say we won’t or by not doing the thing that we said we would. You start to despise parts of you because you fall short of what you should be.

Should is a tricky word isn’t it? Webster defines should as what is probable. I read this really interesting article on postivepresent.com that talks about how negative the word should is. She says three things about should that really made me think.

Should takes away from your accomplishments. You have done great things in your life, even if you don’t think so, even if they are small things but should can make you feel like the things you done don’t matter. If you buy your first house at 35 you take some of the wind out of your own sales if you say , oh should have already owned a house. If you have a baby at 35, oh I should have two kids by now, its downing the fact you have at least one. Should takes away from the hard work you have put in to get you where you are right now.

Should takes you out of the present. The bible speaks often about about not worrying about the future. Matt 6. 25-34. It also tells us not to focus on things of the past. Isaiah 43:18

We talked before about blooming where you are planted. Not worrying about what is ahead. We didn’t talk as much about worrying about the past. I am not a person who lives with a lot of regret. There are somethings I wish I would have done differently or situations that I wish I would have handled better but I don’t regret them, I am a firm believer that things happen the way they are supposed to, whether that is good or bad. My should’s are  definitely more future based but I know plenty of people whose shoulds are in the past. I should have said this during that argument, I should have drank less at that party, I should have moved away from home when I had the chance. Neither throught process helps us be the best version of ourselves. We can’t move into the person we are meant to be if we continue to focus on what things should be.

Should sparks negative emotions. All should does is make us feel bad about ourselves when we may not need to. Where you are currently could be perfectly fine and appropriate for this moment in time. Should can make you feel guilty, or put a heavy burden of expectation that you don’t need.

Where are your shoulds coming from? Are they coming from who God expects you to be? Or are they coming from what your parents said? Are they coming from trying to keep up with what society says you “should” be doing? Are you comparing yourself to your friends, family, that rando you went to high school or college with? What does God say you should be doing? What are His expectations? Have you asked him lately?

Instead of letting should shape your self-worth, shift your focus to what is, who you are today, what God is doing in your life right now, and the grace He gives you to grow.

Maybe it’s time to trade your shoulds for shalls.

You shall be who God created you to be.
You shall walk in purpose, not pressure.
You shall live free of comparison.

Ask Him. Trust Him. Let that be enough.