Where God Placed Me
There’s a quiet moment every so often—usually when the dogs are snoring, the house has settled, and the world feels still—when I find myself reflecting on where I am in life. Not just physically, sitting in my Blog Cabin or rocking on the porch with sweet tea in hand. But spiritually. Emotionally. Purposefully.
I think about where God has placed me. And sometimes, I’ll be honest, I question it.
Why here? Why now?
Why this winding path of joy and heartache, celebration and grief, stillness and chaos?
But more often than not, the answers come in whispers, not thunder. God didn’t drop me into a perfect life wrapped in a bow. He placed me here—in this marriage, in this motherhood, in this mission—for a reason. Not despite the mess, but because of it.
He placed me in North Carolina, surrounded by roots that run deep and a community that feels like kin. He gave me a story that isn’t polished but is powerful. One that’s been chipped by pain and polished by grace.
He placed me in the in-between seasons—when children grow up and identities shift, when dreams are reborn in the ashes of old ones.
He placed me in rooms I never thought I’d belong in: behind a podcast mic, on the pages of books, and in circles of women holding brokenness and bravery in both hands.
It took time, but I’m learning that placement doesn’t always come with clarity. Sometimes it looks like frustration, waiting, or wondering if I somehow missed the mark. But God doesn’t misplace people. We might feel out of step, but He’s already choreographed the dance.
Where God placed me isn’t a punishment. It’s a purpose.
It’s in the daughter I care for with prayer-laced love.
It’s in the husband I chose—who drives me crazy and anchors me all at once.
It’s in the Shih Tzu curled up by my feet and the pitbull mix that reminds me grace comes in unexpected packages.
It’s in the stories I write, the women I encourage, and the days I feel unseen but keep showing up anyway.
Maybe that’s what being placed really means—trusting the position even when you don’t understand the plan.
I may not know what comes next. But I do know this:
God didn’t place me here to simply survive.
He placed me here to shine.
To serve.
To speak life.
And to stand firm in the truth that where I am—flawed, faithful, and figuring it out—is exactly where I need to be.
