Waiting

When Words Don’t Come Easily

/ Baylee Snelling / 1 Comment

Some days, it’s harder to show up with open hands —
especially when you still have open wounds.

Some days, things happen that don’t make sense.
Some days, the ache gets a little louder —
and the silence that follows it feels heavier than usual.

But I’m here.
Still breathing in the hope and promises of God.
Still believing that healing isn’t undone by disappointment.

Maybe you’ve had a day like that too.

So I won’t pretend tonight.
I’ll just light this small candle in the window
and whisper —
you’re not alone… and neither am I.

In the Stretch Between

/ Baylee Snelling / 1 Comment

There’s a certain kind of quiet
that lives in the in-between.
After what’s been planned —
before what makes sense.

It’s not quite peace.
Not quite panic.
Just… waiting.
A stretch of time
where clarity feels far away,
and trust becomes a choice
you keep making in the dark.

That’s where I am right now.

And I don’t have anything polished to say.
No deep revelation.
No strength to spare.
Just this: I’m here.

Still praying.
Still breathing.
Still trusting the One who sees what I can’t.

Because I don’t know what’s next —
but I know who’s holding me.
And sometimes that has to be enough.

So if you’re in the stretch too —
between the ache and the answer,
between the weight and the relief —
you’re not alone.

This space might not feel holy,
but I believe it is.

And even here,
you are still held.