Tag: god

I’m Not Being Buried — I’ve Been Planted

by Richelle Braybrook, posted in Faith, Truth-Telling

Some days I ask God if He forgot me.
Because it hurts.
Because it’s lonely.
Because everything I knew is falling apart and I’m the one sitting in the rubble, holding pieces that don’t fit anymore.

But He hasn’t buried me.
He’s planted me.

And planting doesn’t feel holy.
It feels like dying.
Like loss.
Like isolation.
Like everyone pulling away while you try to hold on.

Breaking Generational Pain

I was born into dysfunction.
I inherited pain I never asked for.
I watched patterns repeat that I didn’t know how to escape.

But I’m breaking it.
Right here.
Right now.
And the enemy knows it.

That’s why the fight has been so intense.
Because I’m not just healing for me — I’m healing for the ones who come after me.
I’m breaking chains that others accepted as normal.

Willpower Wasn’t Enough

I’ve tried to fix myself with willpower.
Tried to push through and act strong.
Tried to numb the pain or pretend it wasn’t there.

But I don’t want to just survive anymore.

I need spiritual power.
And that’s what God is giving me — in the quiet, in the tears, in the dark.
When all I can whisper is, “Jesus, please.”

The Shift Inside Me

My spirit is changing.
I feel it.
The people and places that once felt familiar now make me uneasy.
Not because I hate them.
But because I’m not her anymore.

The girl who stayed silent.
The girl who settled.
The girl who smiled through the pain.

She’s gone.

I’ve grown.
And some people can’t handle that.
And I’ve stopped apologizing for it.

This Pain Has Purpose

Yes, this season hurts.
But that doesn’t mean I’m being punished.
It means God is doing something deep.
Something holy.

He’s growing me.
Stretching me.
Rooting me.

Because what’s coming… is big.
And I need deep roots to hold it.

Obedience Over Popularity

God’s been stripping things away.
People I thought would stay.
Plans I thought were certain.

But I trust Him.
Because I’m not here to be popular — I’m here to be obedient.

This isn’t about a platform.
It’s about purpose.
And sometimes, that means walking alone.
Being unseen.
Feeling like you missed something.

But you didn’t.
You’ve just been set apart.

The Fruit Will Come

This is planting season.
And planting feels like death.
But it’s actually life in disguise.

The fruit that’s coming?
It’s going to be more than I prayed for.
More than I imagined.
Because it’s not about me.

It’s about what God can do through someone willing to surrender — even when it hurts.

Final Thought

If you’re in a painful season…
If you feel stripped, pruned, or hidden…
You’re not being buried.
You’ve been planted.

And the fruit will come.

💬 Comment if you can relate.
You’re not alone in this season. Keep going. You’re growing.

The Kind of Strength No One Talks About

by Richelle Braybrook, posted in My Journey as a Mother

Healing doesn’t always feel like strength. Sometimes it feels like waking up with a lump in your throat. Sometimes it feels like walking through life with a part of your heart missing.
Sometimes it’s making choices you pray no one else ever has to make.

Years ago, I made one of those choices.

I didn’t fight a system that was never on my side. I didn’t drag my kids through courtrooms, instability, or chaos just to say I tried. I let go, not because I didn’t love them, but because I did. So much that I laid down my pride, my rights, and the very title of “mom” so they could have a better chance at life.

Let me tell you something…
That’s not weakness. That’s the kind of strength no one talks about.

Every day since, they’ve been my why. Even if they don’t see it. Even if they never understand it. They are the reason I keep choosing healing. The reason I chose sobriety.
The reason I get back up when grief knocks me down again.

I never stopped loving them. Not for a second. And I still pray for them, think of them, miss them—every single day. But I’ve also learned I have to love myself now too. Because the version of me they may someday meet…She’s worth knowing.

This journey of healing is messy. It doesn’t come with neat edges or clean timelines. Some days I still break down. Some days I wonder if I made the right choice.
But I go back to this truth: I loved them enough to let them go. And now I love them enough to become whole.

If you’ve ever had to make the kind of decision that no one claps for. One that leaves you questioning everything. You’re not alone. Your story still matters. And so do you.

You can still be a good mom, even if your story looks nothing like you dreamed.
You can still be healing and worthy. You can still be grieving and growing. And you can still hold space for hope—because it’s not over yet.

So if you’re reading this with a heavy heart, if your story didn’t go the way you hoped, if you’ve loved deeply and lost quietly. I just want you to know…

You are seen. You are not alone. And your heart still has so much left to give.

Be gentle with yourself today.
You’re doing better than you think.