Jesus

To Everything I’ve Ever Lost

/ Baylee Snelling / 1 Comment

There’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. Not just what I’ve lost—but what I’ve found because of it.

We don’t always get to choose what’s taken from us. But we do get to choose what we do with the empty space that’s left behind.

And sometimes, if we’re honest, it’s not until we’re brought to our knees by loss that we look up and remember who’s been standing there all along.

That’s what this photo reminded me of:

“To everything I’ve ever lost, thank you for bringing me closer to Jesus.”

It stopped me in my tracks because it’s true. I wouldn’t wish some of the heartbreak I’ve walked through on anyone, but I also wouldn’t trade what it gave me—an intimacy with Jesus I might’ve never known otherwise.

Loss can strip us of our plans, our people, our sense of stability. But it can’t take the One who walks us through the fire.

So maybe the most unexpected gratitude we can offer is this: Thank You for the losses that led me here.

To trust. To surrender. To deeper healing. To Jesus.

Anchor Verse

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.”
Isaiah 43:2 (NIV)

The Song I Didn’t Expect

/ Baylee Snelling / 1 Comment

I wasn’t trying to have a moment.

I was just in the car with Beckett, letting a children’s playlist play on Pandora — not even a worship station. Just music to keep the car ride calm and light.

But then these words came through the speakers:

“If you’re hurting, I know someone who heals your wounds…”
“If you’re broken, I know someone who broke for you…”

I paused.

Not because I planned to —
but because something holy had just entered the space.

It didn’t make me cry.
But it did catch me off guard — in the best kind of way.
Like grace tapping on the window.
Like peace arriving before I even asked for it.

“They couldn’t keep Him on the cross.
Couldn’t keep Him in the tomb.
His name is Jesus — and He’s in the room.”

The song is “In the Room” by Forrest Frank — a Christian artist I’ve heard before.
But I’ve never heard this song and I wasn’t expecting to hear it in that moment.
And maybe that’s what made it hit different.

Because sometimes God doesn’t wait for the worship station.
Sometimes He meets you in the in-between —
the errands, the car rides, the daily rhythms of motherhood.

Sometimes He shows up right where you are,
before you even think to reach for Him.

That’s the kind of Savior He is.
Not reserved for Sunday mornings.
Not only found in quiet time or devotionals.

But present.
Personal.
In the room.