Work of Hearts

  Roots Before Fruit  We got hands full of half-efforts and hearts running on fumes. Calling it “faith” when really it’s fear Pretending to surrender. Because rebellion is not always loud. Sometimes it whispers. In hidden thoughts. In  compromising conviction Sometimes it sounds like “Yeah, I’m good.” when you haven’t prayed in weeks. And we keep asking God for revival while holding onto things He told us to bury. Dead habits. Dead mindsets. Dead versions of ourselves See, fruit doesn’t grow just because we want it to. Not if the roots are starving Faithfulness. Self-control. Gentleness. Those things don’t bloom because we learned church language or mastered good behavior. And honestly? Some of us know church better than we know God. You can’t checkbox your way into transformation. Fruit only comes from abiding. From staying connected to God when nobody’s watching. When there’s no stage. No spotlight. No filters Just you. And Him.  Because real growth? That do...

  See My Soul I want my heart to be seen before anyone measures me Before numbers Before scales Before quiet glances that try to shape me Into something lighter to hold There’s already beauty with me That starts within my eyes  Because what I look toward What I pursue What I surrender to That's where real beauty lives I’m accepted now Not months from now Not after a transformation story Not after a before- and -after reveal Right now my soul is seen  And if one day I step on a scale and I’m lighter Let is be something that doesn’t cost me my peace to gain I only want to lose anything in me that doesn’t Honor God Actually I want to gain Purpose Prayer Time The presence of God  Which already recognizes me as art His art. I will keep becoming me Not for acceptance  But from it.  S. Ambrose, 2026

  Held They gave me a title before they gave me a goodbye Called me “Teacher of the Year:  Like it was a crown that couldn’t slip. I believed they chose me as much as I chose them Believed in the applause, the handshakes, and the nods  That said , “you matter here!” Maybe my grief began when I trusted again It’s never about one loss Not a job Not people Not a place that once felt like purpose That tried to stitch stitched itself into my soul as if it were my No-  It’s about the moment I realized I was temporary again When I was told I was essential It’s about another ending season that didn’t announce itself.  The part no one prepared you for is How something can celebrate you and still let you go How people  can see your heart and still release you without trembling It’s not just grieving the breathing It’s grieving believing words again. –Then the memories flood in– Friendships that felt like family until they felt like distance Relationships that spoke i...