“How did I get here?” It’s a question I found myself asking, standing in the midst of a storm of emotions. It was May 2020—a time when the whole world was in turmoil—and I wasn’t an exception. My life, once brimming with purpose and connection, had transformed into a blur of memories, like scenes from a Hallmark movie playing out before me. But I wasn’t an active participant—I was merely a spectator, watching 25 years’ worth of moments unravel.
Life had hit hard. My children had grown and left the nest, leaving my “mom hat” without a place to sit. Six months earlier, I’d lost my husband to cancer, and the “wife hat” I had worn with pride and love now sat in a box, a painful reminder of what once was. My career as an operating room nurse—a calling that once filled my days with meaning—had been thrown into chaos by the global pandemic. I would finish long, grueling shifts at the hospital only to return to a house that echoed with emptiness.
To silence the void, I painted every wall in my house and binge-watched every period drama I could find. Socializing wasn’t an option, not just because of the pandemic but because my heart wasn’t in it. One of the great joys of my life—leading mission trips to El Salvador—was now out of reach. My “mission trip leader hat” was tucked away, gathering dust. My home, once filled with laughter and purpose, had become my cave—a place where silence screamed louder than I could handle.
As I stared at the freshly painted walls and drowned myself in fictional stories, I couldn’t escape the emptiness that gripped my heart. My life felt hollow. All I knew to do was pray. I asked God questions that felt too heavy to carry: “What did I do wrong? Why is this happening? How could You let my world crumble like this?”
Faith is easy when life is going well, but when chaos reigns, faith is tested. It either deepens and becomes authentic, or it fades, becoming nothing more than a fairytale. I found myself at that crossroads, and in the stillness of my despair, I felt God ask me a question in return: “What are you doing here?”
That question shifted something in me. As I prayed and painted, I began to sense God’s presence in the quiet moments. His still, small voice reminded me that He had been with me through every joy, every sorrow, and every loss. Slowly, I began to see purpose in the chaos.
I turned to my old journals, rediscovering the lessons I had learned over the years. Memories of how God had guided me through trials before gave me hope. I realized that even in the hardest moments, He was sovereign.
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, affirmations started coming my way. One day, during a casual conversation, my son suggested, “You should write a book with affirmations and a candle.” Around the same time, an acquaintance messaged me, saying, “I love reading what you post—you should write a devotional.” Could this be God speaking through others? I believed it was.
Thus, Strike a Match was born. What started as a simple project became my passion, my purpose, and the proof of my faith’s authenticity. Writing this devotional helped me turn my cave into a sanctuary.
Now, I’m honored to share it with you. If you’ve ever found yourself in your own dark cave, questioning your faith, your purpose, or your place in the world, I hope Strike a Match can serve as a spark to light your way. Because even in the chaos, God is present. And sometimes, it’s in the silence that we hear Him most clearly.
