FaithWear Ministry Scroll- February 1, 2026

I often wondered whether I should share this in the name of love, but I write it now for the sake of witnessing to what God has done in me. My journey with love did not begin in the ways of God; it began in the ways of the world. Growing up on a small island, culture introduced us early to an earthly kind of love. Movies and television shaped our imaginations with stories of romance, longing, and emotional intensity. Naturally, my young mind was trained to search for what the world called true love.

I did not grow up in an environment where God was placed first or where we were taught how to live aligned with Him. We were figuring things out on our own. We learned early. We hurt early. Hosea 4:6 says people are destroyed for lack of knowledge, and that was true of my early years.

When I reached college, I fell in love for the first time. But I had no guidance, no emotional regulation, and no spiritual discernment. Insecurity lived quietly beneath the surface. I feared that one day he would leave me, and that fear fed my zeal, my intensity, and my emotional reactions. I did not understand then that insecurity is its own kind of bondage, shaping how we love and how we cling. My love was sincere, but it was fragile because it was built on fear rather than on God. First John 4:18 teaches that perfect love casts out fear, but at that time fear was the foundation of my affection. I was loving from emptiness, not from wholeness.

Love is a gift because God is love. But the revelation of love did not come to me easily. God gave me dreams first—glimpses of truth—and only later did I understand what love truly is. Before I learned God’s love, I responded to relationships the way the world taught me: if someone hurt me, I returned the hurt; if someone spoke bitterly, I answered with bitterness; if someone wounded me, I defended myself. Romans 12:17 teaches us not to repay evil for evil, but I had not yet learned that path.

Life eventually brought me into deep waters, places where everything I was became challenged. I had to choose which direction I would stand on. And in that season, I kept returning to the dream God gave me. In the dream, I was shown someone’s current state and their end—meaning I saw that change was coming for that person. That dream became my lens. Amos 3:7 says the Lord reveals His secrets to His servants, and that dream became a revelation I held onto.

Because of that dream, I learned to operate in love. I learned to forbear someone’s actions, knowing that what they said or did came from a lack of knowledge of who God is. Luke 23:34 shows Jesus forgiving those who did not know what they were doing, and that became my posture. I forgave every single time. I took in bitter words even when they stung, and I chose to give grace the way God gives grace. Ephesians 4:32 calls us to be kind, tenderhearted, and forgiving, and I learned to walk in that.

In the beginning, my heart was heavy. But I always turned to God—not to people, not to opinions, not to my own strength. Over time, something changed in me. I decided that no person, no situation, no harsh word would shake me. Psalm 125:1 says those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion, unmovable. I do not even know how it happened, but every time I was struck with poisonous daggers to the heart, God gave me grace to face it without bitterness. Second Corinthians 12:9 says His grace is sufficient, and I lived that truth.

Slowly, the sting disappeared. Not because I became numb, but because I began to see differently. I began to say within myself: It is okay, you do not know any better. It is okay, you do not mean it. It is okay, you are struggling. It is okay, one day God will open your eyes. This was not denial; it was discernment. First Corinthians 2:15 says the spiritual person judges all things, and God was teaching me to see through His eyes.

As life continued, God allowed me to see more clearly the person I was dealing with. He showed me their posture, their wounds, their worldview, and the troubles they carried inside. First Samuel 16:7 says the Lord looks at the heart, and He let me see beyond the surface. I realized this person still had a long road ahead—a journey only God could lead them through. Seeing this, I adjusted myself, not in compromise, but through the lens of God’s love. James 2:13 says mercy triumphs over judgment, and mercy became my posture.

I prayed continually that this person would one day accept the ways of the Lord, surrender their carnal patterns, and allow God to reshape their heart. Second Timothy 2:25 speaks of gently correcting those who oppose themselves, hoping God grants repentance, and that became my prayer.

Love for me now is the ability to remain in a hostile conversation or atmosphere and choose silence—not out of fear, but out of strength. Isaiah 30:15 says strength is found in quietness and trust. I have learned to let a person finish their outburst without allowing the toxicity to enter my heart. Proverbs 4:23 teaches us to guard our hearts above all else. I close my ears and my heart to the poison, and at the same time I pray quietly that God would intervene. And He does. I feel the shift in the atmosphere. I sense what God is withholding, restraining, or redirecting. His presence becomes my shield. Psalm 32:7 says He preserves us from trouble, and I have lived that preservation.

These moments have become gateways into spiritual discernment. They are the places where my faith, patience, and character are molded. James 1:4 calls us to let endurance have its full effect. And every time I come out of an experience like this, God removes the sting. Psalm 147:3 says He heals the brokenhearted, and He has healed me again and again.

Sometimes God places us in situations so that we can be shaped. He allows us to enter the fire so that we might be refined and gain new sight. Malachi 3:3 reveals the Lord as the refiner and purifier of silver, watching over the process until His reflection appears in us. This is why it is vital that in whatever circumstances we find ourselves, we turn to God, seeking His counsel and asking Him to show us the way, so that we may navigate our trials safely. James 1:5 teaches that if anyone lacks wisdom, we should ask God, who gives generously without finding fault. When we do this, the trials themselves become our refinement. I choose, and will continue to choose, His righteousness and His way again and again. I will always choose His holiness over my limited understanding. I will always submit to His will and yield every trial into His hands, for He alone has the power to calm the storm and silence every wind that rises against my path.

So what is love to me now, as a forty‑four‑year‑old follower of the Way who has walked through fire and refinement? Love is no longer the emotional whirlwind I once mistook for devotion. It is no longer shaped by insecurity, fear of abandonment, or the longing to be chosen. Love for me now is rooted in knowing my identity in Christ—knowing my worth to Him, knowing that He loves me, and knowing that I am His child.

Love to me now is the nature of God being formed within me. It is patient because He has been endlessly patient with me. It is discerning because He has opened my eyes. It is steady because He has become my foundation. As First Corinthians 13:11 teaches, when we become adults, we put away childish things—and at forty‑four, I can say that the childish version of love has died in me. What remains is the love that comes from the Spirit—the love that endures, forgives, discerns, and transforms.

And to those who read this scroll, I welcome your stories as well. If the Lord has walked you through trials, shaped you through hardship, or opened your eyes in seasons where you once could not see, I would love to hear from you. I cherish testimonies marked by the hand of God—the kind of stories where His wisdom, His power, and His presence carried you through what you could not carry alone. If you share the same passion I do for seeing God’s work in the everyday details of our lives, you are welcome to write to me at [email protected]. Your story will remain private with me alone, and if you desire to talk further, I will gladly follow up with you. I look forward to reading the beautiful things God has done in you.

Benediction

May the Lord who refines with fire and restores with tenderness continue to shape your heart in every season. May His wisdom guide your steps, His peace guard your mind, and His love anchor your soul. May you learn to see through His eyes, hear through His Spirit, and walk in the quiet strength that comes from trusting Him. May every trial become your teacher, every hardship your refining, and every victory your testimony. And may the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God the Father, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit rest upon you, strengthen you, and keep you in perfect peace as you journey forward in Him. Amen.