I’ve been thinking about Bryan Johnson lately and his quest to dramatically extend his life. The supplements, protocols, measurements, and optimizations—not to mention all of the time, money, and resources spent to resist aging.

His commitment to health is, at first glance, admirable. We’d all benefit from giving more thought and time to stewarding our bodies well. However, I’m wondering what’s actually driving him in this longevity endeavor.

Let’s say it works. He lives to 150…then what?

What is he going to do with all of those extra years? Spend them trying to buy even more? If you spend your entire life trying not to die, when do you actually live?

I’ve been thinking about my own health fixation. This lifelong obsession I’ve had with being skinnier. Smaller.

I give it so much mental real estate: constantly scanning my body, picking it apart, trying to change and manipulate it, imagining how much better I’ll feel when I finally achieve the body of my dreams.

Let’s say I get exactly what I want. I wake up one morning, and I’m super skinny. My clothes fit exactly how I want them to. I feel euphoria from how tiny I am. I look in the mirror and see my ideal body, finally.

Okay, then what?

Does being 100 lbs make me a better mom? Wife? Person? Does it make me a better songwriter? Does it make me more creative and full of life? Does it make me love God more? Does it make God love me more?

I’m still just me.

We all have things that distract us from life. Some of them are good things, like health, productivity, creativity, work, personal goals, etc. None of these things are bad. They only become a problem when we make them the things we are living for.

It’s like trying to optimize sleep so you can have more energy throughout your days. But then you stress about a poor night’s rest. You miss the point.

Or exercising—a good thing—out of punishment rather than nourishment. Doing it because you hate your body, not because you value it.

Cancelling lunch dates with your spouse because you just “can’t take a break,” just too busy with work.

What’s the work for? Just to work more? Or is the work to support a life where you get to spend time with your family?

Skipping dinners out with friends because you’re scared of the calories, scared of being fat. For what? So you can just sit home alone, hungry, but at least you're skinny?

When the endgame is the goal itself, we’ve lost the plot.

Living longer isn’t inherently meaningful. You don’t get a gold star for being a centenarian—especially if you didn’t even enjoy your hundred years around the sun. Same with beauty, wealth, and accomplishments; if they aren’t enjoyed, well, then what?

Life is a gift—a blessing. We miss the point if we don’t recognize it as such. Spending our precious minutes optimizing them or trying to gain more of them wastes the beauty of the moment. And life is beautiful. Living 150 years but missing the beauty of days within them is a tragedy. I don’t want my life to be a tragedy because I was so focused on being skinny and perfectly healthy that I was blind to all of the goodness around me.

The pasta dinners with friends, hosting them in my home. The glass of wine over shared conversation with loved ones. The ice cream run after dinner with my daughter. Staying up a bit later to go out with a girlfriend for the evening, catching up over good food and spritzes.

Those things matter so much more than being skinny—than simply staying alive. And the great thing about being a Christian is that I actually am going to live forever.

Bryan Johnson is doing everything he can to delay death, to prolong its determined coming. It is coming for him. It’s coming for me. It’s coming for you.

But for the Christian, for the one who loves the Lord, death in this life is temporary. Those in Christ will be raised on the Day of the Lord to everlasting life in bodies that never decay, that never die—no biohacking required. And whatever my body looks like in the age to come, I literally won’t care. What a beautiful reality to look forward to.

I don’t want taking care of my body to be my life’s work. I want my legacy to go beyond myself. Yes, health is important, but it’s there to support life—not the other way around. I don’t know how many years I have left, but I do know that I want to spend them loving my family, creating things, and actually living life with those God has put in my path. To spend my days obsessed with adding years to my life or removing pounds from my body would be such a sad waste.

I wonder what the thing is for you; the thing you’re convinced you need to achieve or fix before you can finally start living? Let’s say you lose the weight. You make the money, build the business, fix your health—fill in the blank.

Then what?

At some point, we have to actually live.

Eat your bread with joy, drink the wine with a merry heart. Love the people God has given you to love. Invite your neighbors over for dinner and stay up late chatting. Eat the dessert for crying out loud. LIVE YOUR LIFE.

You and I don’t know how many trips we will get around the sun—hopefully a lot—but however many the Lord gives us, let’s make sure we don’t spend them trying to create a perfect life that we neglect to actually live it.

Death will come for me and you—though it won’t have the final word—so let’s make the best use of the time we have (Eph. 5:16).

Right now, we are alive. So, what are we waiting for?

Much love and peace in Christ,

~ Ciara

Within the past 24 hours, three different women have reached out to me about health issues they’re struggling with. Some wanted advice or encouragement; others just needed someone to vent to.

While texting one of them last night, I told my husband, “Man, everyone is struggling. It’s not just me. Sometimes I feel like it’s just me.”

He responded with a compassionate version of, “I told you so.”

In my experience, one of the hardest parts of suffering is how isolating it is. You can be surrounded by people who love you and care about you, and yet still feel completely and utterly alone.

And it’s hard as a Christian because we know that we are never alone, yet how do we reconcile that truth with our reality, where we do, in fact, feel incredibly alone?

Then there’s the “you can’t trust your feelings” crowd and, sure, I agree to some extent. But those feelings come from somewhere. Depression, panic attacks, anxiety, chronic stress, chronic pain…whatever you’re dealing with, it’s communicating something. Absolutely, when we feel hopeless and depressed, we must speak the Truth of the Word over ourselves and believe that it’s true. But that doesn’t mean we have to ignore the very real signals our bodies are giving us.

I believe that speaking truth and life and blessings works, but I don’t believe that it’s always an instant change of state. I’m seeing all sorts of “manifestation” talk online these days; some of it’s very mystical, and then some of it is just a new brand of the prosperity gospel. The whole “I broke my arm, but Jesus has healed me, so I don’t need a cast” line of thinking.

But like, your arm is definitely broken. The bone is sticking out. You are crying and in pain and trying to fake-smile your way to perfect health.

One of the ladies I’ve been talking with said she has too much to do to be like this. There’s too much on her plate that she needs to show up for, so she has got to figure this issue out pronto because she can’t afford to be like this anymore.

I told her that trying to white-knuckle her way through this is probably not going to help. That won’t lead to healing.

I know because I’ve tried. I’ve done all of the “things” to heal from various ailments over the past several years. I’ve tried to force healing with more information, more supplements, more everything. More positivity, more nervous system regulation, more speaking life and truth.

But I get upset when none of it “works.” I’m impatient. I want the results NOW. I want to feel better, healthy, whole NOW.

I’ve begged God for healing. I’ve been upset with Him for letting me struggle with some of these things for so long. I have faith. I know He can do it. I believe the whole “Well, you just didn’t have enough faith or pray enough” argument is a load of crap.

What the Lord has been showing me recently (sometimes gently, other times…not so much) is that you don’t always get what you want. I tell my daughter this all of the time. She doesn’t like it. Neither do I.

Life is simply not always ideal. In this world, you will have trouble. There will be times of sickness, trials, tribulations—death. There will also be times of laughter, dancing, singing, and joy.

As Christians, our goal shouldn’t be to avoid suffering. Our aim should be to keep our joy in Christ through all things—through every season of life.

Joy in the sickness. Joy in the pain. Joy in the valley. Joy in the darkness. Joy in the grief. Joy in the sorrow. Joy in the stress.

I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy.

I also believe the Lord uses every single thing we struggle with to refine us. To rip out our pride, tear down our idols, and rip discontentment from our bones. These seasons of suffering are a test of obedience. Will we do what He’s asking? Will we choose joy and gratitude even while things suck?

I’ve been waiting to live for a while now. Thinking that if I can just “get better,” then I’ll have arrived at my optimal best self and can finally step into what the Lord has for me.

Life is hard. Stop waiting to feel 100%, or to get the thing you’ve been waiting on, before you go out and live. You don’t have to pretend everything is fine, but you don’t have to be a slave to your sufferings either.

The trick is to learn how to walk with God through every season of life. The good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly. He’s not always going to rip us up out of the ugly. Sometimes He lets us stumble along there for a bit, but He never leaves us alone in it.

Everyone is struggling. It’s part of being human. Just remember, you’re not alone.

“Motherhood is the highest calling.”

Is that what the Bible says? I can’t seem to find the verse. I’ve read it in articles and heard it said on podcasts and in person. As a mom, I don’t necessarily disagree with the statement. (I believe my daughter is the greatest creation ever to exist; mothering her is the best thing I’ve ever done. I love her in ways that words cannot describe.)

Biblically, the Scriptures give us this calling: Love God, love people. This seems like the “highest calling” to me.

So what does that mean for motherhood?

There seems to be a war online between the mega-moms who have 5+ children and homeschool and homestead and bake sourdough, and the child-free ladies who have their careers and love their pets and travel a lot.

But I think there’s a group in the middle who are maybe just trying to figure it all out as they go. Who want a family and desire to nurture that family well, while also nurturing the God-given talents and desires they have. Who maybe have felt some pressure to “get it right” and to show others that they are in fact “getting it right.”

I fall in this group.

I’m 31 and have an almost three-year-old daughter. I live in a small town, and in my church and community, I’m “behind” on the motherhood front. Practically everyone else my age has multiple kids. I think we have 6 new babies at our church this year, with more women announcing pregnancies each month. (This is a beautiful thing, by the way. I’m super happy for all of them! Children are blessings.)

I’ve felt a lot of pressure to keep up. To get pregnant again ASAP, even though mentally, emotionally, and physically I’m definitely not ready.

Now not all these moms are in the extreme group I mention above. Some of the moms are SAHMs, some have jobs. Some want to stay home but can’t. Some can stay home but choose not to. Some homeschool or want to homeschool. Some send their kids to public school. What’s inspiring to me about many of them is that they seem to be confident in their mothering decisions. That’s what I really admire and aspire to—confidence in motherhood.

I got really into the “trad wife” aesthetic a few years ago on IG. But honestly, since getting off most social media, I’ve come to realize I don’t actually desire that life, at least not to the extremes you see online.

Like, I’m going to be honest here. I do not want to homeschool.

There, I said it. Throw stones. I’ve been dealing with a lot of guilt over this, and I have voices on both sides—homeschool is the way, public school is fine.

And I’ve noticed fear being a big part of the “why” behind both of these views. If you don’t homeschool, your kid could see porn early, they will be discipled by the secular government, and they’ll have a poor education. If you do homeschool, your kid will be socially awkward and weird, won’t be able to read or do arithmetic, and won’t be prepared for the “real world.”

The internet has a lot to say about this topic, and so do a lot of the people in my life. I’m just trying to figure out what I think. Trying to listen for what the Lord wants for my family. And it’s really hard to cut through all the noise.

And what about the mom who has desires outside of motherhood? GASP!

Yeah, she exists. She is me. She is a friend of mine who is a really great dentist and has big dreams for helping people fix their palates and airways. She has four children. She loves her children and plans to send them to public school and eventually return to work.

Is she…sinning?

Am I sinning if I desire to potentially work some when my children are school-aged as well? I have ideas, dreams if you will, to do something with my health coaching practice, as well as with my music and writing. Is there a future where I’m able to do those things alongside motherhood? Be a good, present, godly mother while also working in some capacity?

If I don’t desire to be a completely full-time SAHM/homeschool mom, am I living outside of the will of God for my family?

I don’t know.

Am I overthinking this?

Probably. I tend to do that with everything.

I guess my main question here is: have we made certain choices about motherhood signals of our virtue? Like having lots of children, homeschooling, staying home, etc… has that become shorthand for how seriously we take motherhood and how faithfully we are following God?

Social media has a way of vilifying each of these groups; that’s not what I’m trying to do here. What I’m exploring is the idea that maybe one mother's faithful choice shouldn’t become the measuring stick for another mother’s faithfulness.

What I’m learning is that there isn’t a one-size-fits-all template for motherhood and family these days. There are many different examples of faithful women throughout the scriptures: Deborah, Phoebe, Ruth, Priscilla, Mary Magdalene, Lydia, and even Miriam, to name a few. Interestingly enough, we don’t know if all of them had husbands and children. The scriptures aren’t explicit about each of them. What we do know about these women is that they aimed to faithfully serve the Lord. Deborah, outside of being a wife and possibly a mother, was a prophetess and judge, exercising major public leadership within Israel. Lydia was a businesswoman and hostess; her work and her hospitality coexisting. Even the Proverbs 31 woman has a lot of irons in the fire. She keeps the home and is a faithful wife and mother, along with being entrepreneurial.

What stands out to me about all of these women is not that they are impressive (though they are) or that they are all following the Christian Wife and Mother Blueprint to a T; it’s that they are women who fear the Lord.

I have friends who can stay home with their babies, and they love it. I have friends who wish they could stay home with their kids, but they are unable to. I know moms who are happy with 1-2 children and some who desire many, many more. I know mothers who want more children and have been hit with fertility struggles. I know women who are intelligent and hardworking both in and out of the home. They are teachers, doctors, physical therapists—you name it. Some choose to work because they love it; some work out of necessity. Some homeschool and some don’t. The common thread between all of these women I know is that they love God. They are aiming to love Him, their families, and their neighbors well.

They are women who fear the Lord.

I do not believe God is mad at the working mother. I do not believe He’s more pleased with the homeschool mom. I think the Lord is pleased with us when we are living our days—whatever they look like—with our eyes on Christ.

I’ve spent so much of my life worried.

Worried that I’m disappointing God. Worried I’m always making the wrong decisions. Worried I’m not good enough. Worried I should be doing what everyone else is doing. Worried I’m not a good mom. Worried I’m a bad wife.

Maybe what the Lord is asking of me right now is to stop worrying so much about whether I’m doing motherhood right.

To stop comparing myself to those around me. To stop looking online for answers that only He can give. To lean into my God-given intuition and the Spirit within me for guidance and wisdom.

Being a wife, a mom—anything, really—isn’t something you can or ever will do perfectly. We aren’t asked to do it perfectly; we are asked to do it faithfully. And the only way we can do that is if we stop trying to please everyone around us (including our own inner critic) and simply commit our lives to the Lord.

He sees me right where I am, and He’s not mad at me. He sees you right where you are, and He’s not mad at you either.

So, give yourself some grace today. Let go of the need to “get it right.” All we ever have is today, and if we spend it comparing and worrying and feeling inadequate, we will have missed the point of it all—to live well by loving God and the people He’s given us to love.

Peace, joy, and blessings to you,

~ Ciara

Wow, you’re so talented. You’re gonna be a star! You’re gonna be famous! You’re gonna do great things. God has big plans for you, little lady. Your big break is coming. You’re the total package.

I’ve heard all of the above plus some over my 31 years. Not to mention the classic, “Hey, you should try out for American Idol! Or The Voice! You’d totally win!” I’ve heard that one the most. And I have auditioned for those shows dozens of times. And then a dozen times more. (I did actually get a Golden Ticket to Hollywood on American Idol when I was 15. I never got any airtime, though, despite ugly crying while a cameraman followed me around, and was sent home during the Hollywood rounds.)

My road to stardom started around four years old, when my parents put me in the Kaw Lake beauty pageant. I think the title I won at that first beauty contest was something along the lines of Tiny Miss Kaw Lake.

I was a girly girl, through and through. I loved wearing beautiful, twirly dresses, and I loved the idea of winning a big, shiny crown. And most of all, I loved the idea of being a princess. Most 4-year-old girls do.

My parents started seeking out pageants that had talent competitions in them, so that I could show off my singing and dancing. I also did a lot of singing competitions as well. I was in dance classes, voice lessons, gymnastics, and eventually, competitive cheerleading. As I grew up, my dreams morphed from princess to superstar. I wanted to be the next Britney Spears. I wanted to sing and dance my way to the very top. I wanted to be the best.

At a young age, I believed and embodied what Ricky Bobby’s dad told him:

“If ya ain’t first, you’re last.”

And I did win a lot of the time. If I happened to come in second place, or, God forbid, third, it was because the judges were idiots, not because I wasn’t really the best (my parents did a wonderful job raising me, and they love me more than anything, but they did have this fault where they thought I pooped gold).

Not winning meant that I had failed. That I wasn’t the best. Therefore, all those “big plans God had for me” were on the line. (I should add here that my parents did not put that pressure on me. They were always super supportive and proud of me. I have no memories of them ever making me feel bad for “losing” or even messing up.).

You might think I’m exaggerating, but I kid you not, when I accepted the crown for Miss Grand Supreme at the age of 8, I bawled like a baby; like I’d just won Miss America, not a regional beauty pageant in Branson.

I put a lot of pressure on myself, even at such a young age. I would drink SlimFast on competition days so that my belly would be flat and my abs would pop. Britney Spears had amazing abs. I needed amazing abs.

I do think being immersed in entertainment for my entire childhood played a role in my decades-long battle with various eating disorders and body dysmorphia. When you are continually being put in front of judges, who are there to judge you, it’s natural to want to be perfect for them. To look perfect.

That need to be perfect has followed me for 31 years. It’s only recently been revealed to me—by the grace of God, through his Spirit—that this is my Achilles heel. This pressure I put on myself to be perfect, to be great, is actually keeping me from being who God created me to be.

I don’t like myself because I’m not good enough, so I think that others don’t like me either, and ultimately, that God doesn’t like me. I’m disappointed in myself, so surely He is, too? Surely others are, too?

My daughter and I have been on a little getaway with my parents and grandmother these past few days, and while laying by the pool, my daughter playing with her Appa, I was able to finish ’s book “Room for Good Things to Run Wild.”

In it, he talks about the beauty of an ordinary life. And I felt such a peace reading that chapter—a weight lifted. No one is asking me to be extraordinary. God isn’t asking that of me, and His expectations of me are the only ones that matter.

Here’s what the Lord asks of me and you:

And he said to him, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭22‬:‭37‬-‭40‬ ‭ESV‬‬

The Lord asks me to love Him, and to love others. Everything else flows from those two things.

What would my life look like if instead of aiming to be great, I aimed to love God? To love people?

What would yours look like?

I’m in a season of learning and unlearning many things. It’s exciting, freeing, and sometimes exhausting. But I do feel hope for the future. And I’m beginning to actually enjoy life, to live in the moment and be thankful, versus worrying about how far behind I am or where I’m not measuring up.

If I keep my eyes on Jesus, I can’t lose.

That’s how you actually “win.” You let the love of Christ carry you through the finish line.

The goal is to hear Him say on that day, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” And it’s not from anything great or awesome that you did, but that you allowed Him to display His power and His love in you.

You simply said yes.

Yes to an ordinary, beautiful life.

On Saturday, July 25, 2026, I encountered the Latin phrase memento mori three different times.

Remember you must die.

It’s not a common saying, so after seeing it the second time, I took notice. And then when the third hit me, I realized the Lord was probably—definitely—trying to tell me something. Call it synchronicity, call it divine providence…call it what you want (yeah, call it what you want to). Whatever it was, I’m choosing to listen.

Let me walk you through that extremely hot July day.

Morning

After my super extra mental health episode a few weeks ago, I’ve been really disciplined about practicing daily mind management. I read Dr. Caroline Leaf’s book Switch on Your Brain last summer, and it has been life-changing for me. I started using her Neurocycle app two weeks ago, and the lesson on Saturday morning was called "Memento Mori". In it, she talked about how it’s good to meditate on the fact that you’ll die, because remembering your mortality makes you notice the beauty of being alive.

I completed my neurocycle for the day and then moved on.

Afternoon

My brother and I left for McAlester, OK, that afternoon to attend the Dancing Rabbit Music Festival. We played there a couple of years ago, and the organizer set aside some free VIP tickets for us. Switchfoot was headlining, so we obviously couldn’t turn down such an awesome opportunity.

We stopped at a gas station to fill up and use the restroom, and while Brody was fueling up, I read through an article he’d sent me on Substack.

It was an article by , and in it he mentioned the phrase memento mori. In it, he writes,

I thought to myself, ‘Huh, that’s strange to see that twice in one day,’ and then moved on.

Evening

It’s about 6:00, and Brody and I are walking around the festival. We passed the merch tables, and a shirt caught my eye.

It says, memento mori.

So now I’m like, okay, maybe God is trying to tell me something.

Why does He want me to remember that I must die? Why do I need to reflect on my mortality?

I think the answer is simple. I have not been living in the present for some time. I’ve pretty much spent my entire life worrying about tomorrow.

But I’m not even promised tomorrow. All I have is today. If I’m spending today worried about a tomorrow that may never come…well, I’m just wasting a beautiful life.

Right here, right now, in this moment—that’s where the magic is.

That’s where life is.

I’m gonna die. You’re gonna die. I want my life to have meant something. If I don’t enjoy the blessings the Lord has given me today, then they mean nothing. I’ve squandered them.

Night

The cherry on top of this “message” from God was hearing Switchfoot play songs for 90 minutes about this exact thing. Just look at some of their discography: Dare You to Move, This Is Your Life, Meant to Live, Live It Well, Beautiful Life. So many of their songs are about seeing today as a gift, living life well, and being thankful. I want to do that.

I want to see each day, each moment as a gift. I want to live my life well, being thankful in all circumstances.

(Sidebar: Switchfoot is the GOAT. I’ve seen them live three times and they are always perfection. What they do is so inspiring. They write and play songs that give hope and challenge people to be better. Jon said, about his songwriting process, something along the lines of, “You start your way in the darkness and work your way to the light.” And he does just that.)

Every breath is a miracle—a gift from the Author of all creation. What would my days look like if I lived like I believed that?

The following Monday

The women’s bible study at my church is going through Ecclesiastes, which, in many ways, is a study of memento mori.

The preacher says it is wisdom to reflect on your mortality, to enjoy the good gifts from God while you have them, because trials and hardships can and will come. Don’t waste the blessings by worrying about the potential sufferings. Enjoyment of one’s blessings is a gift of God in itself.

The blessings of God are meant to be enjoyed. I want to enjoy them. I don't want to rush past them because I'm too distracted by worry and fear to notice how good they really are.

Remember you must die

We are all gonna die. But that makes life more precious, not less. I’m challenging myself to live each day with gratitude that I’m alive, and to let go of my fears of the future, because today may be all I ever get.

Yes, I’m going to live forever. But forever isn’t this far-off event that happens once Jesus comes back and makes every wrong thing right. Forever starts right now. Why wait?

You get one life; how are you gonna live it? Who are you gonna live it for? What do you want your days to look like?

I want mine to look like a woman who loves her God, her family, and every minute He's given her—with joy, gratitude, and a heart that rejoices no matter the circumstances.

In the words of Switchfoot, “This is your life, are you who you wanna be?”

(trigger warning: talk of suicidal thoughts ahead)

The last couple of weeks have been less than ideal. I’m still coming out of the fog, and my chest is having a hard time relaxing completely, but hey, I’m here. Praise the Lord!

Long story short, I had a medication-induced, multi-day panic attack episode over Fourth of July weekend. It got so bad that I was even having thoughts of taking my own life. On day four of the attack, my friend asked if I’d started any new medications or supplements. I told her I’d started taking Flonase about a week earlier, and she immediately sent me screenshots of how Flonase can cause anxiety attacks and suicidal thoughts in some people.

So, yeah. I stopped taking Flonase, and within 48 hours, the deep dark thoughts had stopped, and the full-body and mind anxiety began to lessen (and the allergy congestion returned, but I’ll take a stuffy nose over whatever that hellish episode was any day).

At one point, it felt like I was out of my body. Like I could see my arms moving, but couldn’t feel them. My speech was super slow; I had to think really hard about what I was trying to say. And the entire time, my chest felt like it was going to explode, or like there was a little alien in there about to rip its way out.

I almost had Josh take me to the ER. But we both agreed that more drugs and a psych admission would probably not be helpful to me at all. Thank God for my good friend who made the medication connection! Once she sent me those screenshots, I did get some immediate relief, just knowing that I wasn’t actually losing my mind and going insane. Something was causing it.

I’ve been off of Flonase for a week now, and I’m definitely still recovering. I’m trying to have some grace and compassion for myself, because those five days were seriously intense and extremely hard. The episode brought to light some stuff I've been repressing as well, so I’m working through those things with a Christian counselor. I hadn’t been to see her in over a year, but on day two of that attack, I immediately made an appointment with her because, nah, we can’t be living like this.

Here are a few things I learned from this messy experience.

One: it’s probably a good idea to check the side effects list on any and all medications you take, even the over-the-counter, seemingly low-risk ones.

Two: I need to be taking care of my mind daily, just like I do my body. I exercise and move every single day, and my mind needs that too. I’d done really well with daily, dedicated mind management for several months but this year I fell out of the habit. I think that’s what allowed some of these issues I’m dealing with to fester and well up and then ultimately explode.

Three: I’ve been incredibly blessed with such a wonderful and loving support system. I can’t imagine going through that crazy episode alone. Thankful beyond measure over here. My husband was a total rockstar, and my good friend really came in clutch.

Four: just don’t give up. If you don’t quit, you win. The Gospel says we will suffer, we are called to endure that suffering, whatever it looks like for us. It sucks, and it’s hard, but by the grace of God we will get through it if we don’t quit.

Ok, that’s enough on this topic. I’m ready to get back to my regularly scheduled programming.

Excited to get back in the writing groove this week now that I’m feeling better!

If you take any practical application away from this post let it be this: don’t suffer in silence. If you’re struggling, tell somebody. If you don’t have someone you feel like you can talk to, then I’d recommend reaching out to someone in your church (or find a church if you don’t have one) and maybe even consider talking to a Christian counselor. A good Christian counselor will keep the truth of the Word at the center of your conversations, not just say things to make you feel better about yourself.

Much peace and love,

~ Ciara

The women’s bible study group I’m in just finished reading through Proverbs this week, so naturally, I’ve been thinking about the Proverbs 31 woman.

I don’t know about you, but anytime I read through that passage, I feel a bit guilty and a lot intimidated.

I mean, that woman does it all. She’s taking care of the house, she’s working into the night, and rising early. She’s buying and selling stuff, making and creating things.

Like, when does this girl rest?!

Two verses stick out to me as the crux of this passage, and I think they actually give us wives and moms a healthy dose of freedom and confidence in what the Lord is actually expecting from us.

She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness…a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.

-verses 27 and 30

What I gather from these verses is that we are to reject laziness and fear the Lord.

If we do those two things, we are embodying the Proverbs 31 woman.

Resisting laziness does not mean that we never rest. It just means that we use our time wisely.

Fearing the Lord means keeping him king over our lives, over our hearts. If we let all that we do be from him and for him, we are winning.

This application is for married women and single women. Don’t be lazy; fear the Lord.

Take care of your responsibilities because you love the Lord and your family, not because you think you have to to feel accomplished and earn your rest.

You are not a machine, and no one is asking you to be. Not your husband, and definitely not the Lord.

So, woman of God, go forth today with zeal for the Lord and the life he’s given you, asking him to help you resist the temptation of idleness and to learn to fear and love him well.

Much love in Christ,

~ Ciara

I just felt large. Huge. GIGANTIC. I would look in the mirror and be disgusted. Those familiar toxic thoughts came rushing back.

You’re so fat. You need to eat less and work out more. So ugly. Why can’t you just be skinnier? Smaller? You look awful.

Why am I so concerned with my looks? Why do I think that smaller immediately equals better? Why do I care about this so much?

I’ve thought this way for as long as I can remember. I wanted to look like Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera, like the VS Angels strutting down the runway.

And at one time in my life, I did. At 17, I was proud of the number on the scale: 89. And sure, my hair was falling out, I had constant stomach pain and headaches, and a thigh gap, BUT I WAS SKINNNNNNY.

Miserable, but skinny. Except I still wasn’t skinny enough.

Over the past week, I’ve thought several times that if I could just lose 5 lbs, I would be happy.

But that’s just not true. I could drop those 5 lbs, and the happiness that comes with it would last a whole 5 minutes before I’d think, "Okay, just a few more lbs…”

Having all of these thoughts lately has made me consider what beauty even is. Like, what is a beautiful body? Is there a formula? I don’t think so, because standards of beauty change every decade, and they are totally different depending on where you are in the world.

I saw a video on YouTube the other day of a beautiful, tall, skinny woman in Africa. She was saying that she’s fascinated by the beauty standards in the States, because where she lives, if you are rail thin and a size 0, you would be considered way underweight and undernourished.

Her body would be enviable in the US, but where she lives, people at the market will ask her if she’s eating enough and try to push food at her, asking her, “Where’s your belly? Do you need food?”

But here’s where she really surprised me: she was totally unbothered by the fact that she didn’t fit her culture’s beauty standard. She was confident, radiant, and beautiful.

What if that’s what beauty really is? Confidence.

And when I think about it, some of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met aren’t necessarily the thinnest, but they are the most confident. They are unbothered. They are kind yet firm. They are not insecure. They take care of themselves without turning it into an obsession. They have curves and softness, while also possessing strength.

I remember being in awe walking through the museums in Florence, Italy, last summer. I couldn’t believe that the statues of women were so… voluptuous! It was a real confidence boost and very refreshing.

They weren't rail-thin. They had softness. And yet they were carved in marble as ideals of beauty. Today's fashion industry would probably tell us they aren't thin enough, maybe even call them plus-sized, which is wild.

Wait… oh… sometimes, I feel plus-sized.

I’m a size 0, y’all. I wear size 24 jeans, and the shorts I have on right now are an XS. I’m not sharing this to brag; I’m sharing this to show just how insane body dysmorphia can be. How insane and harmful comparison can be. I truly think there is a demon named Comparison.

We really need to stop comparing our bodies to the “perfect” ones online. We need to love and honor the bodies the good Lord gave us. That means taking care of them out of love and kindness and gratitude instead of restricting food and over-exercising because we hate ourselves.

Sure. If I dialed in and went into a calorie deficit and upped my workout and was really disciplined with my eating, I could lose those 5 lbs and tone up. But why is that so important to me? Why do I think I still need to look like I did in high school? I’ve had a child. I’m 31. It’s probably good and natural that I’m not as small as I used to be. No, it’s definitely good that I’m not. Remember? I was starving myself and over-exercising at my thinnest!

You know what I’m not doing now? Starving and over-exercising. I have three nourishing meals a day, full of real food, and I move my body every single day. My belly is softer than it used to be, my thighs a little fuller. But maybe that’s okay.

IT IS OKAY.

It’s also sanctifying. Because you know what? The main reason I want to lose weight and tone up isn’t for health reasons; it’s because I’m vain.

I want to look good, so people think, “wow, she looks good.”

That’s so icky. Why do I care? Because sin. Vanity. Pride.

But also because of fear. I’m afraid of losing control. Of not being enough.

I don’t want to be ruled by sin, I don’t want to be ruled by my body, and I definitely don’t want to be ruled by fear.

Yesterday, during naptime, I jumped on my walking pad and started watching Physical starring Rose Byrne on Apple TV.

Right off the bat, I was set off. Rose’s character has an extreme eating disorder, and her inner dialogue is brutal.

I was shocked by it because it sounded a lot like my own inner dialogue at times. You’re disgusting. Fat. Ugly. Lazy. No self-control. No one likes you.

It was convicting. I don’t want to speak to myself like that. I want to speak LIFE over myself and to myself.

If this article seems choppy and a bit all over the place, it’s because it’s taken me a while to write it. Summer with a toddler is busy by default. I guess the point I’m trying to make is that I want to change.

I don’t want to miss out on life because I’m constantly thinking about my body, how it looks and feels, and what I’m feeding it. I have a child to raise, a husband to love, and friends to do life with—I don't want my life to become a never-ending battle with the mirror.

And you know who really gets to tell me whether I’m beautiful or not?

Christ. He’s already settled my worth. And he’s already settled yours.

I believe that I can and will have total freedom from this mind/body battle someday. For now, I know my job is to take every thought captive to obey Christ. To believe the truth of his Word and let that be enough for me. To take care of my body out of love and not hate.

Consider this your permission to take care of your body out of love and not hate, too.

Much love in Christ,

~ Ciara

As I’m embarking on this quest of letting go of control and trusting God, I keep coming back to this one, made-up word: joymaxxing.

Recently, we had three families over for dinner, giving us a total of eight children running around. Good times were being had, and I couldn’t believe it when I checked the time to see that it was already eight o’clock. The kids were still playing outside, and the older ones had just gotten back from their walk to the store for some ice cream bars.

I could feel some panic start to sink in.

Piper’s bedtime is 8:30. It’s 8:15, and she’s just now having ice cream. I don’t want to be weird and ask everyone to leave. But I also want Piper to sleep well. I WANT TO SLEEP WELL. She’s gonna need a bath; she’s disgusting. I’m giving bloodwork in the morning; my results will be skewed if we get a bad night of sleep.

These thoughts bounced off the walls of my head for a bit, but then I just decided to chill the heck out.

I was having fun. Piper was having fun. It’s not the end of the world if she gets to bed a little later than normal.

Everyone ended up leaving around 8:40, and she was in bed a little after nine.

Now, we did have a bad night of sleep. Her belly hurt from the ice cream, and she was super thirsty all night. But it was just one night. It’s not our normal. And the memories she made with her cousins and friends are worth the occasional upset stomach and sleepless night. A life optimized for perfect sleep, perfect health, perfect lab results, and perfect control can quickly become a life where you miss the very things that make life beautiful.

I spoke to my brother the other day, and he said he’s trying to think less this summer. And I totally get what he means.

Sometimes I think so much that I become obsessive, and it keeps me from actually living my life. I’m so busy thinking that I forget to actually live. Thinking about the future, my health, the to-do list, the roof leaking, getting pregnant again…and it all turns into worry that consumes the available bandwidth in my mind.

You only have so much bandwidth, and if you spend it all overthinking, you have none left for the beautiful life that’s right in front of you.

So my goal this summer is to think less and live more. When the spiraling starts to creep in, I’ll shut that crap down pronto. I don’t have time to spend all of my time in my head. I want to spend my time and energy actually living.

I want to spend this summer joymaxxing. Because there is so much joy to be found in the ordinary moments of life, but you will miss them if you are too distracted by the thoughts consuming your mind. Joymaxxing is a result of trusting God—believing that he really does love you and care for you. You can give your thought spirals to Him and just go out and LIVE.

So, dear reader, my prayer for you this summer is that you will think less and live more, joymaxxing your way through these hot, wonderful days, knowing that the Lord is in control, so you don’t have to be. You can feel free to stay up a little later, sleep in a bit longer, and let the to-do list remain unopened for a day—or two.

You can feel free to live.

Much love and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Christ Jesus,

~ Ciara Brooke Reese

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A few weeks ago, we were flying home from our Florida beach vacation, and my toddler did something she’s rarely done before, even as a baby: she fell asleep on me.

She started whining on the plane, which had just recently started its initial descent. I prepared myself for a rough 30 minutes, put her on my lap, and started rubbing her head and singing softly to her. After a few minutes, I noticed she’d stopped crying and whining and wasn’t moving. I looked down. She was asleep.

If you know my child, you know how much of a miracle this is. Even as a baby, she would rarely fall asleep on me, or anyone for that matter. It took a lot of work to get her to sleep anywhere, really. I can count on one hand how many times she’s fallen asleep in the car (one of those also on this trip).

And not only did she fall asleep on me for the remainder of the flight, but she stayed asleep while we disembarked and found our way to our next gate. That girl slept almost 1.5 hours on me.

What makes it even more special is the mental and emotional state that I’d been in for the past several days. I wrote about that more in a previous post, but basically, I’d been having some severe reservations about becoming pregnant again—about having another baby.

Piper falling asleep on me like that truly felt like a gift from the Lord. Like he was showing me what’s really important; how much of a gift little children are.

As she slept peacefully on my chest, I felt some of my fears around pregnancy, labor, delivery, and postpartum begin to melt just a little bit. I’d been so focused on the what-ifs of the future that I’d been missing out on this bundle of joy right in my lap. I was reminded of how worth it she is. The uncomfortable, even painful process of bearing a child is worth the reward: this beautiful little human that I get to call mine.

This—creating little humans and raising them to love the Lord with all their heart, soul, mind, and strength—is what it’s all about.

Being pregnant with her, birthing her, and raising her has been tremendously hard, but it’s been incredibly rewarding, and it is the most important thing I’ll ever do.

We are three weeks out from that blessed flight home, and the Lord has continued to work on my heart. I can honestly say I'm excited about having another baby, something that seemed impossible for me to feel just a few short weeks ago. And it all started with a contact nap 30,000 feet in the air.

Flashback with me to 2019. I’m at my local gym. Actually, it’s the community college wellness center, and thankfully my student ID from three years prior still gives me access. I’m cooling down with a few laps around the indoor track when I pass by the father of one of my peers from high school. 

“How’s the music going? You making any money doing that yet?” 

After quickly swallowing my shock at such a brazen question, I lied. 

“Oh, yeah, things are really picking up. It’s going great!” 

That is, if you call getting paid $80 to play in front of four drunks for two hours at a dive bar over 100 miles from my house “going great.”

A short time after that encounter, I acquired an investor who funded my music for a couple of years. The pressure to turn a profit took all of the joy out of it for me. I was consumed with numbers and metrics, desperate for more followers and fans, more visibility, because that meant this super nice man wasn’t just throwing away money on me. Most of my time was spent on creating content for my “brand” rather than the music itself. 

And then, it was January 2020, and I was performing with my band at the NAMM show in Anaheim, CA. It was our biggest and best show yet—we had momentum. 

Then the world shut down. 

Now, everything had to be online. But you know what? I hate being online. I tried the social media influencer thing. I’m bad at it, and it gives me anxiety. I just want to write songs, make music, and then perform that music for people who are there to enjoy music. I imagine an artist simply wants to paint, and a writer wants to tell stories. We just want to do what the Lord has gifted us to do. So why is it so terribly hard?

Countless nights spent getting home at 2:30 in the morning, only to be woken up a few hours later by a crying baby still nursing in the middle of the night. And for what? A few hundred dollars I’ll never even see because of the outstanding balance on my Sweetwater card. 

I’m coming up on nine years of doing this music thing, and though the paychecks have improved a very tiny bit, I’m still swimming in a sea of obscurity, performing for crowds mainly made up of my parents and four other loyal fans (shoutout to the Dentons and Cooks, y’all are the real MVPs). 

We make art because we love it. It's what we do. But we also have to live. And living has bills and taxes to pay. If no one pays for your art, it becomes harder and harder to keep making that art.

One of the most talented musicians, singers, and composers I know (and have the pleasure of singing with occasionally) has been struggling financially since college. He got the degree, landed the junior college music director position, and has been “stuck” there ever since, undervalued and, frankly, taken advantage of for years. He can’t afford to get his master’s, which would allow him to teach at a four-year university. He serves as the music director at his church. He’s one of the busiest people I know, constantly sharing his God-given talents for pennies or less (and he does it all with a smile). He’s not the only musician with this story. History is full of artists with extraordinary talent who create beautiful work while living ordinary, difficult lives. Eventually, a few get recognized, and a small fraction of them get celebrated. But most spend their days creating meaningful work that goes unnoticed by the world. 

Creating art is almost like that saying, “If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?” If no one witnesses or experiences my art, does it even exist? 

You hear artists say all of the time, I do this for me, because I just have to. It’s not about the money or the fame. The majority of the artists talking like that already have the money and the fame. They had their big break. What if instead of getting their big break, they hustled for years and years, decades even, and put in their 10,000 hours ten times over and still the only people to read their writing, hear their songs, or see their painting was their grandma and the eclectic man down the street whose hobby is supporting local artists (thank God for that man, by the way). 

For years I’ve asked myself the same question: Will I be content if this doesn’t work out?

For a while, the answer was no. 

The truth is that for many years I was doing it for myself. I wanted the recognition. I wanted people to be impressed by me. However, as a Christian, that mindset was never going to end well for me. What I do cannot be about me. It has to be for Him. Now, I can honestly say that I am content even though my musical dreams haven’t panned out like my 8-year-old self had hoped. Because music is just one part of me. What I do, what I create, is not the sum of me. 

A little girl in my community has been a mega fan of mine almost from the start. She comes to every show, sits right at the front. She makes homemade signs and sings along to every single song—the originals and the covers. She knows the setlist front to back. She doesn’t have money, she’s a child. I’ve actually lost money on her, given her multiple free shirts and other merchandise. But you know what, performing for her is magical. It’s rewarding in a way that playing for money is not. 

Recently, I sang “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” at my Boppy’s (grandpa’s) funeral. I held everything together just long enough for me to get through that song. Performing that song had nothing to do with me. I didn’t make money off that. I was highly nervous and extremely uncomfortable, shaking as I sat down at the piano. But singing that song for him blessed my beautiful Nanny (Grandma), and several people afterward said it blessed them as well. 

I didn’t get paid a single cent. 

But it was the most fulfilled I’ve felt singing in a very long time.

Thanks to for the opportunity and inspiration to write.

Peace and blessings to you,

~ Ciara

If I could pack up and move anywhere in the world, it would be the beach. Specifically, a white, sandy beach with clear, turquoise water. Even more specifically, Anna Maria Island. Has all the beauty of the Emerald Coast without the crowds and commercialization.

Seven days for a beach vacation is never enough, as it takes me about three days to unwind and actually enter into vacation mode. (This fact alone is a pretty good indicator of the state of my nervous system lol).

There’s a reason this vacation felt less refreshing for me than those in the past, and it has to do with a deadline I put in place for our family planning. I’d told my husband that after vacation, we could start trying for another baby.

I had no idea how much that expectation would freak me out.

My first pregnancy was hard. Physically and emotionally. I didn’t enjoy being pregnant. I was extremely nauseous the first trimester and couldn’t sleep or breathe through my nose the entire third trimester. Add to that a blood pressure that slowly started creeping up and swelling that took over my face and feet—I was miserable.

Funny story, a sweet old, old lady at our church actually said to me one Sunday, “What happened to you?! Your face got fat!”

That’s how swollen I was.

Because of the high blood pressure, the day before my due date, my midwife said we couldn’t do a natural birth in her birthing suite and that I’d need to go to the hospital immediately to be induced. She said she should’ve transferred my care sooner, but she was really rooting for me and knew how badly I wanted to have a natural home birth. She’d said multiple times through my pregnancy that I was the perfect patient and was doing everything right, and the achiever, A+ student in me, was really proud of that.

But, turns out that didn’t really matter.

And so began a labor and delivery where everything that could go wrong went wrong—except my daughter and I both came out of it alive. Praise God for that!

Induction by foley bulb, doc breaks water putting it in, it falls out without dilating me at all, move on to pitocin, I have nonstop contractions for 12 hours, hardly any progress, cave and get the epidural, get full body shakes and can’t rest, baby’s heart rate drops, I spike a fever, never progress past a 6, a new doc comes in and is like get this girl to a c-section asap, baby comes out not breathing, they work on her for 45 min and get her breathing with machine, 4 days in NICU but she recovers wonderfully and well.

Look. I love my daughter more than anything in the world. I’m obsessed with her. She’s what it’s all about. She’s IT. Life without her would be grey. She’s everything.

But is it totally crazy of me not to want to go through all of that again? Can I want another kid but totally dread what it takes to get one?

These are the things rolling around in my head throughout the vacation. And the thoughts made their way to my body, too.

From 2020 to 2023, I battled chronic pain in my lady bits. It was horrible. Couldn’t have sex, hurt to wipe, etc. Anyway, pelvic floor therapy and confronting some emotional and physical trauma from my past ended up bringing healing, and I haven’t dealt with it since.

Until…wait for it…this vacation.

That’s right. I became so scared of getting pregnant again that my body literally responded to the fear by manifesting a physical symptom of pain.

So, then I was spiraling about that as well.

Needless to say, it wasn’t the most relaxing vacation of my life.

Josh and I had many talks on the trip. Long walks on the beach where I bared my soul on the issue. I have a very understanding and loving husband, whom I’m incredibly grateful for, but what I’m feeling has made him sad.

I hate seeing him sad, but the truth is that what we are dealing with right now is sad.

I feel guilty that there are so many women who desire to get pregnant and can’t, and I’m over here actively trying not to.

I feel shame for not wanting another child right now.

I feel selfish because I’m denying my husband something he really desires.

I feel… a lot of things. A lot of things I’m not proud of.

Since returning home, I’ve realized that what it all boils down to is that I desperately want someone to tell me that how I’m feeling is okay. That they understand. I’ve felt alone in this for some time because all of our friends and family around us have multiple children and seem to go through pregnancy, delivery, and postpartum with ease. Motherhood seems to come naturally to them. (Notice I say ‘seems’, I’m aware that people go through things we aren’t always aware of, and not everyone overshares as I do.)

To be completely honest, I’ve felt that not even God sees me or understands me in this, and it’s made me not want to talk to him about it—stupid, I know.

Well, a couple of nights ago, I was weeping before bed. Granted, I had the flu or COVID or something, running a fever, AND was on my period—a perfect storm—so it’s understandable I was extra emotional. Anyway, I took a break from crying to go pee, and when I came back, I had a text message from an old friend.

She told me that she’d been thinking about me lately and that she was really thankful for my friendship at a time in her life when she needed a friend, and that she was grateful she had me to talk to, and she hoped that I was feeling really connected with God right now.

That broke me.

Because I wasn’t feeling connected to God. I was literally just weeping over the fact that I felt so alone and like no one, not even God, could see me.

Her message came at just the right time, reminding me that God does see me. He sees me right where I am. And he knows what my heart needs.

My struggles, thoughts, and feelings are not hidden from him, even if I don’t share them with him willingly. He is the God who sees. Jonah couldn’t hide, and neither can I.

Her text reminded me that even if I don’t feel connected to God, I am connected to Him, because the Spirit lives in me. I am not alone. Ever.

I’ve made some progress on the baby front over the past few days. I know now that I do desire another child, I’m just not quite ready yet. I’ve communicated that to Josh, and he’s happy to know that I do, in fact, want to bear his child. I’m thankful to have a husband who is patient and kind with me, like Christ is.

I have several reasons for not feeling ready yet, but they all boil down to just not feeling well or safe in my body and mind. I truly feel the Lord calling me to let go of a lot of control around my health, to lay all of that obsession down at his feet and truly trust him. I’m not sure what that looks like, but I do know I’m exhausted from trying to control everything all of the time.

My priority right now is joy and trust-maxxing. Enjoying my God, my husband, my child. My life. To be thankful for this life. Truly thankful. Leaning into prayer and the Word, and turning from the voices of the world (even the ones that are good, because if I’m going to them before God, then they are no longer good for me).

I’ve said it so many times before: your body can’t heal if you’re constantly trying to fix it, because that signals to it that it’s unsafe and something is wrong.

As the health girl who’s tried everything and is still struggling, I’m 100% positive the Lord is saying, “Have you tried trust?”

So, that’s what I’m going to do.

As my daughter sings 10,000 times a day, it’s time to…

LET IT GO!

Much love and blessings to you,

~ Ciara

I’m on vacation, which means:

• routines are looser

• meals are flexible (seed oils GASP)

• and the daily schedule I’m obsessed with? It got left behind in OK.

Those three things would normally freak me out a bit, but I’m leaning into the “go with the flow” vibes for this vacation and choosing to fun-max.

Because fun is not a distraction from health. It’s a big part of it. Laughing decreases cortisol. A “less perfect” meal eaten slowly with people you love can be more supportive than a “perfect” meal eaten stressed and alone. Intentional rest and enjoyable activities help move your body into the parasympathetic state. Positive experiences help buffer the effects of stress and support neuroplasticity.

A week of eating differently, resting more, staying up later, or doing less than usual doesn’t undo anything. If anything, it might be the very thing your body and mind needed. I know this is true for me!

So if you’ve been feeling a little uptight lately—maybe even a little boring, if we’re being honest—consider this your invitation to loosen your grip, take a breath, and have some fun.

Now, go forth and have some fun,

~ Ciara

April felt like a breath of fresh air in many ways. It wasn’t perfect; there were some hiccups. But overall, I feel good about the month as a whole. Let’s just get right into it.

April: What Went Well

My book club, Books Bottles & Bites, met for our 1984 dinner on the 3rd. And while I absolutely loathed the book, I loved the dinner. A couple of hours with some girlfriends, talking about a book we all didn’t like over some good food and drinks, is a great way to spend the evening. Maybe I should calm down about my hatred of the book a bit. It’s popular—a classic—for a reason. But it literally had no silver linings, no redeeming qualities. Just sad. Just bad. Everything is bad. I guess I just like a happy ending, or at least one with a sliver of hope.

My husband and I took our daughter, Piper, to the OKC zoo one morning, and I can honestly say it was one of my favorite days ever. We had a blast following her around the zoo, then went for a bougie lunch at Harvey Bakery , followed by a second lunch at Costco, where daddy and daughter shared a hot dog. It was just a day that felt perfect. So blessed.

Easter Sunday was packed at our church, like it probably was at many churches all over the world. However, the service felt a bit…off. A bit weird. Like all of our members were standing straighter, more uptight. Like we were all trying to be on our best behavior. I’m not sure how else to describe it. We normally have a handful of visitors every Sunday, so that’s nothing new. I think it may have just been the “mega-church” vibe we had Easter morning. Like it was PACKED.

What’s beautiful about the small, local church is that you really can have community and fellowship with everyone. When it gets too big, you lose that family aspect a bit.

Anyway, He is risen! He is risen, indeed!

I got to sing with one of my good friends, Brandon Haynes, at TS Fork, a prix fixe restaurant here in our hometown. I used to sing with him a lot before having Piper, but then with nursing and bedtimes…I fell out of the habit. It’s been so fun getting back into the groove of singing monthly with him again. Singing with him is so good for my soul. I feel like when we sing together, we are doing it for us. It’s this beautiful gift from God, just the simple pleasure of singing for the sake of it.

April also hosted the planting of my garden. I’m really pumped about it. You can read more about that experience here ⬇️

If you’ve been following me for a while, then you know that I’m a musician and have a band with my brother, , Five Year Gap. We had our first gig in six months on the 24th at the Tulsa Zoo for their Adult Night, and it was so much fun! I think the long break was really good for both of us. We’d been grinding for almost 10 years, and that gets tough. Burnout is expected, especially when the growth has stalled, and the success doesn’t look like what you were hoping for. It was refreshing to play for three hours and just have fun with it, no expectations other than, “We love doing this, and this is fun.”

My sleep improved so, so much this month. I started drinking a few sips of raw milk with a teaspoon of honey before bed, and it completely eliminated my 3 am wake ups! I wrote more about that experience here ⬇️

Some honorable mentions for the month include a steak dinner with some girlfriends I hadn’t seen in a while, health coaching sessions with clients that are going well, Piper playing in the mud and getting the dirtiest she’s ever been, and a container gardening class with my mom and MIL.

April: What Was Hard

Piper burned her hand. Pretty badly. She wanted to help me cook eggs one morning, and even though I told her approximately 80 times, “Don’t touch!”, alas, she touched the stove. Thankfully, she did really well with keeping the gauze bandage on, and it healed up pretty nicely over the week. We are on day 8 post-burn, and it’s mostly dried up now. She honestly didn’t even complain much about it other than that first day. Hopefully she learned her lesson…

I caught another cold. Shocker. I’m hopeful my immune system is improving, though. The cold didn’t seem to be as bad or last as long. I’ve added some zinc as it was low on my Function Health testing back in January. I honestly think I’m just depleted in multiple vitamins and minerals from pregnancy, post-partum, stress…I’m hopeful that by adding some targeted support, my body will begin to get stronger!

I’ve had some conflicting thoughts about growing our family. Nervous about being pregnant again and not feeling totally ready in my mind and body…That’s all for now. I’m going to share more about this in another post.

We had a tragic, unexpected death in the family. My mom’s cousin’s son passed away suddenly on April 21st, and they still don’t know why. My mom was able to fly out to Phoenix for the funeral to be with her cousin, so I’m thankful for that. It’s a tragic, tragic thing. He was only 20. Please pray for the family. I can’t imagine what they are going through. Death sucks.

May Intentions

First things first: VACATION BABY!!!

We leave for Anna Maria Island, FL, on May 4th (today? right?). I can’t explain my excitement. I’m a vacation girl through and through. Give me a beach, a book, and a Hugo Spritz, and I’m in heaven. One week on the beach and then a day at Magic Kingdom for Piper (just kidding, it’s for my mom ). I’m looking forward to zero social media. To wonderful seafood dinners. Playing in the ocean with my husband and child. Movies with the family after Piper goes to sleep. Sun, sun, sun!!!

If you’ve ever been to the AMI area or Magic Kingdom, give me all the recommendations, please.

When we get back from vacation, I’ll have officially graduated from the Institute for Integrative Nutrition. Yay! The past year has brought so much growth, not just in knowledge, but in self. I feel more confident, more empowered, and more sure that this is something God wants me to do—to help women feel better and care for themselves well.

Some things I want more of this month:

• getting my booty out of bed at 6 so that I can have that morning alone time with myself and Jesus

• intentional playtime/homeschool activities with Piper

• songwriting, music-time

I want less (stealing these from last month because they are still the same lol):

• scrolling—even Substack!

• worry about things I can’t control

• trying to optimize everything/fix my body

I’m focusing on:

• joy-maxxing

• speaking life over my mind and body

• talking to God about everything, going to him first

Go forth

I’m heading into May with much excitement and anticipation. I’m looking forward to a restful and fun family vacation, a garden that is thriving, writing that is fulfilling, and health coaching that is transformative.

The best part about May is that I’m not going through it alone, and neither are you. The Creator of the universe walks through the highs and lows with us; if we’d only ask.

Until next time, peace, love, and blessings to you,

~ Ciara

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I spoke with a friend several months ago, and something she said stuck with me.

“I just need help staying accountable.”

And yes, she was talking about health. But it got me thinking about life in general, and even the Christian walk. Discipleship includes accountability. Christ doesn’t expect us to follow Him alone, but with other Christians, some leading us as we lead others. We need mature Christians holding us accountable to God and the Word.

So it makes sense that accountability in other areas of our lives is a good thing, too. If I struggle with XYZ, then it’s a good idea to have someone who is well-versed and solid in XYZ to walk alongside me. It doesn’t mean that I don’t have enough willpower or drive; asking for help and accountability shows that I actually do care enough to do something about it.

Maybe you’ve been feeling stuck with your health and wellness, like you’ve tried everything and nothing is working. Or maybe you haven’t tried anything, and you’re lacking the motivation to get started. Perhaps you’re inconsistent, tired of starting strong on Monday and fizzling out by the weekend. Maybe you’re just overwhelmed and tired of feeling that way.

Whatever your current health situation looks like, you don’t have to navigate it alone.

Over the past year, I’ve been coaching women, and the consensus is clear: women don’t need more restrictions, diets, willpower, HIIT, or 5 am wakeups—they need support, sustainable rhythms, and someone to walk the walk with them.

That’s why I’ve decided to open a small group coaching space this summer.

It’s a small, 8-week container for women who want to feel more grounded in their health and daily rhythms. Not in an extreme way, but in a way that actually works in real life.

Inside, we’ll have weekly video calls with a short teaching, plus open discussion and accountability.

You’ll also have access to a group chat, PDF resources, journal prompts, and a Bible study woven throughout.

This is for you if:

• You’re tired of starting over each week

• You feel overwhelmed by all the health advice out there

• You desire healthy lifestyle changes but have no idea where to start

• The idea of having real support actually sounds like a relief

I’m only opening 6 spots because I want this group to feel intimate and supportive for each woman who’s a part of it. Six women feels like a girls’ night out where everyone can actually be known, heard, and part of the conversation.

The investment is $120 for the full, 8-week experience. I wanted to keep it accessible while still creating something intentional, supportive, and valuable.

If you’re reading this and thinking this feels like me, then I’d love to have you be a part of this group. You can sign up at the button below ⬇️

Sign Up Now

It is possible for you to feel more vibrant, steady, nourished, and refreshed this summer; you may just need a little support along the way.

*Details on dates and times of meetings will be sent to participants in the middle of May.

*Questions? Comment below, send me a message, or email ciarabrookereese@gmail.com

Over the weekend, I started my garden.

I’ve tried gardening a few times before, nothing big or major, just a small patch of tomatoes and basil, a few herbs in containers. They never produced very much, but I also didn’t try very hard.

This time, it feels different. Maybe it’s being in my new home and finally feeling settled, ready to make this patch of land our own. Maybe it’s something else, I’m not sure. It’s only been in the past few years that I’ve come to really enjoy the outdoors. I love getting out in the sun, barefoot on the grass (listening to our favorite song…lol). Even five years ago, I would’ve cringed at the thought of digging around in the dirt. Now? It’s like I’m craving it. So, needless to say, I’ve been really excited to start my garden this year.

I took the leap on Sunday afternoon and went all in: tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, radishes, peppers, Swiss chard, bunches of lettuce, tons of herbs, and more flowers than I probably have room for.

Have I bitten off more than I can chew? Absolutely. But I have this thing in me that once I get an idea, I have to act on it immediately, as fast as possible, with 1000% effort.

This personality trait of mine has some pros and cons.

Pros: I act on my ideas. I don’t put things on the back burner and then forget about them or give up on them before even trying. I try really hard at the things I’m excited about and interested in.

Cons: Sometimes I do things without thinking them through, and then I hit a wall and give up. If I’d spent more time planning and praying, maybe the idea would’ve had legs to stand on for the long haul.

I will say I’ve done more thinking and planning on this garden than I have on a lot of my other side projects, so I’m confident I’ll see this hobby out—at least for this summer, that is.

Lesson One—Slow the Heck Down

So, what have I learned so far?

I’m only three days in, but I’ve noticed some things about myself that are rather enlightening.

Sunday afternoon, after thirty minutes of shoveling the ground and breaking up the hard soil, I began to feel antsy. I looked at how much ground there was left to work and felt a bit of dismay. I got a little annoyed. I just wanted to plant my pretty little plants.

I paused. Took some breaths. Then realized I was in a hurry and flustered for absolutely no reason at all.

It’s interesting because I had a client last week in a Slowly Becoming Session say that she always feels like she’s in a hurry. Everything feels like an emergency—always in go-go-go mode. She and another client also mentioned how they feel like they’ve been stuck in fight-or-flight for several years, a decade, even.

This chronic “hurry” state seems to be common among women in this day and age. And always being in a hurry does something to your nervous system over time, telling it that there’s always an emergency, signaling to your body that it’s not safe.

The simple act of digging in the dirt—nowhere else to be, nothing else to do—was not relaxing for me in those first 30 minutes, because I was itching to move on to the next thing, to hurry up and…what, exactly? Scroll on my phone? Go be busy somewhere else?

Once I recognized what was going on within me, I was able to slow down and be present with what I was doing. It took me almost two hours to get my beds ready for planting, but once I got past my initial jitters and restlessness, I actually enjoyed the repetitive work of breaking up the soil. It felt meditative and relaxing, even though my arms were screaming and sweat was pouring off me in buckets.

Then, on Monday, I spent the morning finishing up the planting while Piper was at Little Sprouts (our church’s pre-pre-school), and I didn’t feel rushed at all. I even had to be ready to leave in a couple of hours (some good friends from our church adopted their third baby, making them a family of eight!), but I wasn’t worried and hurrying to get done in time. I just took my time and enjoyed the slow process that is gardening.

Slowly becoming…a gardener?

I think my garden will teach me many things this year, and I’m an eager student, ready to learn. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be good at this. Or, maybe I won’t. Either way, I’m having fun so far and looking forward to whatever harvest the Lord deems fit for my family on this first go around.

This first lesson—slow down, stop rushing—was much needed. You’d think for someone with a publication titled, Slowly Becoming, I’d have the slow living part down.

Alas, ‘tis not so.

But the Lord is working in me, producing in me a peace that surpasses understanding, and a stillness that is contrary to my instincts. Showing me that Christ was never in a hurry, so I don’t need to be either. And that the simple work of gardening is life-giving and important, not a waste of time, and definitely not something to be rushed.

For the woman who feels constantly rushed…

This is the kind of work I do with the women I coach—learning how to slow down, understand what their body actually needs, and build rhythms that actually feel sustainable.

If you’re in a season like this, I’d love to walk with you. You can book your first Slowly Becoming Session here ⬇️

Book Your Session

And if you’re just getting started, my Calm the Storm guide is a great place to begin. Grab it here:

Calm the Storm Guide

Just be happy

There’s this stigma within Christianity that if you are truly trusting Jesus, you shouldn’t ever feel anxious, or afraid, or sorrowful. Those are things of the flesh, and we have life in the Spirit.

Here’s the thing, though, Christ himself—fully God, fully man—experienced the complete spectrum of human emotions while walking the earth.

He grieved over the death of Lazarus. He was anxious and afraid in the Garden of Gethsemane, to the point he sweated blood (whether you take that literally or figuratively, he was clearly in distress).

Does this mean Christ wasn’t trusting God completely?

No. It means he was is human.

If you are a human, which I’m assuming you are, and you’ve ever felt anxious, sad, afraid, or depressed—congrats! You have emotions. That’s a good thing.

We aren’t meant to be numb to these feelings, and we aren’t meant to be happy all of the time. That’s impossible while sin is still in the world.

Crying will cease at the Day of the Lord, but, alas, we aren’t there yet.

The question becomes not, how do I avoid these feelings, but rather, how do I healthily feel these emotions?

The answer lies in a regulated nervous system that feels safe.

Stressed out

Depression, anxiety, grief…these aren’t random. They’re deeply tied to stress, and stress directly impacts the nervous system.

Your nervous system controls how your body responds to stress, and when you’ve been in that sympathetic, fight-or-flight state for a prolonged period of time, it can get stuck there.

Stress is a normal part of life, which means the fight-or-flight state is normal as well.

The trick to navigating these stressful emotions healthily is having a nervous system that can bounce back into the parasympathetic, rest-and-digest state in a timely manner.

So…how do we do this? How did Jesus do this? How did he experience emotions and then move back into peace?

Tend to yourself

Yes, Jesus took care of himself.

He routinely went away by himself to be with the Father, to pray and have some peace and quiet.

If Jesus needed to take a step back to be still, quiet, and talk with God, then surely we do too.

He did this for his mind and spirit, yes, but I believe he also did it for his body.

Prayer can shift you into a rest and digest state.

If you like research, here’s some:

A study published in the British Medical Journal (Bernardi et al., 2001) found that repetitive prayer (like the rosary) naturally slowed breathing to ~6 breaths per minute—a pace known to regulate the nervous system and improve heart rate variability (HRV).1

Prayer isn’t just spiritual—it’s physiological. It literally slows the body down.

When prayer includes gratitude, surrender, and trust, cortisol levels respond. They lower, naturally. Just by talking to God.

When prayer feels hard, really hard

Now, there’s a catch here.

At my lowest point, prayer felt like it did nothing, totally unhelpful. But I’ve since realized that it’s because I didn’t actually believe that it would help. I had a faith problem. I had a thought problem. I had a belief problem.

I believed that the anxiety and depression I was battling was just who I am. It was in my DNA, unchangeable if not for a miracle of God.

It’s only been over the past year that the Lord has shown me that anxiety and depression are not part of my identity. I can choose to believe differently, to think differently. I can choose to believe that God actually hears me when I pray. I can choose to change my toxic thought patterns, to set my mind on the things above.

Living this way doesn’t mean you ignore real problems, or push hard things aside, it just means that you don’t accept your thoughts and feelings as concrete truth.

This makes me think of Jesus being tempted in the wilderness. He was hungry. Starving, probably. Forty days is a super long time to go without food. I can’t imagine. When the devil tempts him to command the stones to become loaves of bread, Jesus speaks the truth, regardless of how he was feeling in the moment.

Maybe that’s a stretch of an illustration for what I’m trying to say, but the point is that our feelings don’t always line up with what is true, and it’s the same for our thoughts.

We must question our thoughts and feelings before following them. Hold them up against the scriptures and see if they actually have any bearing of truth.

And most importantly, we have to actually believe the truth.

Feel your feelings

If you’ve ever felt like you have no control over your emotions or that you’re too emotional or sensitive (or maybe someone has even told you that you are emotionally fragile and overly sensitive), hear me when I say, “You’re not broken if you have lots of emotions.” You may just be a bit dysregulated. You may need some tools in your toolbox to help you when you’re stressed and feeling down—to help bring your nervous system back into a state of rest.

First thing to try: go away to talk with the Lord. Five minutes outside, feet on the grass, face towards the sun. Talk to God. Breathe deep. Give thanks.

Want some more tools for your toolbox? If your nervous system has been stuck in overdrive and you don’t know how to come down, I created something for you. Calm the Storm is a simple, faith-rooted guide to help your body actually feel safe again. You can find it here:

Get the Calm the Storm Guide

Also, hear me when I say that the Lord isn’t mad at you or disappointed in you when you are sad, anxious, or grieving.

Christ is gentle and lowly with you. He meets you where you are. When you’re grieving, he grieves with you. When you’re anxious, he’s sitting right there with you in it. When you’re depressed? He’s the lifter of your head.

Believe these things to be true, because they are.

For the woman who wants more support…

Made it this far and feel like you need a little more help? I’ve got you.

If your nervous system has been stuck in stress, if your body feels off, if your thoughts feel overwhelming—this is exactly what I help women walk through.

Inside my coaching, we focus on calming the body, renewing the mind, and creating sustainable nourishment and movement practices, all with the goal of building rhythms that work now and later.

If you’re ready for that kind of support, you can learn more about working together below.

Health Coaching Sessions