Author: Kaleathia Murphy

I’m officially throwing in the towel on trying to become a morning person. Honestly, it’s better for everyone if I ease into my mornings. I’m at my best around 10 or 11 a.m., and I’ve accepted that. There was a time when I didn’t have the luxury of choice I had children to care for, school drop-offs, and endless to-do lists that demanded I hit the ground running. But now, that chapter has passed. I remember the first morning when no one needed me to be anywhere or take them anywhere. I woke up when I wanted to, with no agenda other than my own. It was liberating and, frankly, a little surreal.

Back then, my identity was completely wrapped up in being a mother. Everything I did revolved around my children. Now, I’m stepping into a new phase of life, one where I get to discover me. I’m learning that I’m funny, that I’m compassionate, and that I love being around people who make me smile. Who would’ve thought I could be this person without the constant tasks of motherhood? Strangely, some people I meet don’t even know I have adult children and I’m okay with that. It reminds me that I’m more than “mom”; I’m a whole person with layers waiting to be explored.

This journey started with me admitting that I’m not a morning person and slowly waking up to the truth of who I am now. I’m not mad about it not even a little. In fact, I’m embracing this stage of life with gratitude. Letting go of who I thought I should be has given me the freedom to love who I actually am, whether that’s a slow riser or someone savoring life’s quieter moments.

In July 2023, I sold my car, and I haven’t had one since. It’s been over a two years now, and surprisingly, I don’t miss it. For the first time since I was 17 years old, I’m free of the responsibilities that come with owning a car no maintenance, no insurance, no monthly payments. After 30 years of that burden, I thought it would bother me, but it hasn’t. Living in downtown Los Angeles, everything I needed was within walking distance, so not having a car was easy to adjust to.

Now, with the possibility of moving back to Georgia, things feel different. Unlike downtown L.A., Georgia isn’t as walkable or accessible without a car, and it’s clear I’d need one. Plus, as the primary driver in my household, it would be practical to have a vehicle again. But here’s the thing I’m in no rush. The idea of owning a car again feels less like a necessity and more like a choice I’ll make when the time is right. For now, I’m simply enjoying the freedom of not having to think about it.

Since I was a child, I’ve been sensitive to people’s emotions and feelings. It’s not something I used to talk about I guess I didn’t want to seem weird. But as I’ve grown older, I care a lot less about what people think. Honestly, it’s none of my business what others think of me. That’s their concern, not mine.

For a long time, sensing other people’s emotions felt like a burden. I used to think I was just being judgmental, which made me doubt myself. I remember praying, asking the Lord, “Is this me, or is what I’m sensing real?” Over time, I began asking Him to teach me how to pray specifically for whatever I was discerning. I won’t pretend I’ve got it all figured out there are still times I try to handle things on my own, trying to process what I feel with my limited understanding. But eventually, I’m reminded: this isn’t something I can figure out on my own. It’s a God-thing, far beyond my human capacity.

I’ve come to accept that I’m not the fixer God is. He’s more than capable of handling anything, and He loves when we bring everything to Him. He patiently waits for us to do so. Now, whenever I’m feeling overwhelmed by what I sense, I stop and ask myself: “Is this a me thing, or a God thing?” More often than not, it’s a God thing. And knowing that takes the weight off, reminding me to lean into His strength instead of my own.

I used to be someone who clung tightly to what I thought I liked. I was immovable once I made up my mind, that was it. It’s funny to think about now because these days, I try just about everything. Well, almost everything. My philosophy is simple: “At least try it.” If I don’t like it, so be it but at least I’ll know. I remember how I once hated the idea of sushi. Just the thought of it made me queasy, and I couldn’t get past how it looked. Without ever tasting it, I was firmly against it. Then one day, some friends invited me to a restaurant and practically forced me to sample their plates. To my surprise, I ended up loving all six dishes I tried not liking, loving. It was a shock, even to me.

That experience taught me something important: my preferences aren’t set in stone. I’ve learned that it’s okay to change my mind, to let go of the things I once loved but no longer do, and to embrace new things that I never imagined liking. Growth has taught me that I’m not bound to one way of thinking. It’s liberating to realize I don’t need to justify or explain my choices to anyone. This freedom of letting go of the chains we place on ourselves is powerful. It gives you the space to explore, evolve, and truly discover who you are.

Imagine a life where you let go of the fear of judgment and simply try. When you’re not afraid to test the waters, you’re open to possibilities that could change your perspective entirely. Some things you’ll end up loving, some you won’t, and that’s perfectly fine. The point is, you’re free to choose and free to grow. That freedom the permission to change is where true living begins.

I moved away from my hometown at the age of 30, and by my mid-forties, I took an even bigger leap cross-country. At first, I didn’t think I had it in me to leave the place where I grew up. Fear and self-doubt held me back, and to make it harder, the people I respected most advised me not to go. They meant well, worried for my future, but deep down, I felt I needed to at least try. In making that leap, I lost the familiar connections and routines of home. It wasn’t easy, but along the way, I discovered something important: home isn’t necessarily where you live it’s what you carry with you. For now, without my own permanent address, I’ve come to realize that I am my home. Wherever I go, I have the power to create peace, safety, and comfort for myself.

Ironically, Georgia, the place where I was born and spent most of my life, no longer feels like home. Whenever I visit now, I feel like a guest. It’s strange something I never imagined could happen. How could the place that shaped so much of my life feel unfamiliar? The truth is, it’s not just the place that has changed I have, too. I’ve grown, stretched beyond the boundaries I once believed defined me. Georgia is beautiful, but I’m no longer tethered to it. My heart is open to discovering new places, creating homes wherever I choose.

Life has a way of surprising us. What we once thought was permanent shifts, and with that comes the possibility for something greater. I’ve stopped resisting those changes and started embracing them. I don’t know where life will lead me next, but I’m willing to explore it fully. Maybe that’s what home really is not a single, unchanging place, but the journey of trusting yourself and letting life surprise you.

Communication has the power to cancel all misunderstandings. When a misunderstanding occurs, it’s always best to address it with honest, clear communication rather than relying on assumptions. Assumptions, in my experience, are the lowest form of communication they create unnecessary confusion and are unfair to everyone involved. In my less mature days, I often made assumptions, which only led to stress and unresolved issues. But once I realized that communication was the key to clarity, it became my first defense in resolving conflicts effectively.

I’ve also learned that clear communication sometimes requires overcommunicating, especially if confusion lingers. While I now prioritize talking things out, not everyone is receptive. Some people resist engaging in constructive dialogue, which can be frustrating. But even in those situations, I’ve decided to stick with what works for me. Choosing communication over assumption continues to bring me peace and resolution, and that’s a win every time.

Every week, I have a standing phone call with my Nanna, and it’s the highlight of my week. Her voice melts my heart the moment I hear it. She’s always so encouraging, effortlessly funny, and full of wisdom. Our conversations are a perfect mix of lighthearted laughter and heartfelt seriousness. We cover a wide array of topics, from family memories to random, funny anecdotes, and somehow touch on just about every emotion. No matter how I feel when I start the call, by the time we hang up, I’m completely recharged.

Talking to my Nanna is truly a mood booster. Even my husband notices the shift in my mood when I finish one of our chats. “You’re glowing,” he often says with a smile, and he’s right. There’s something about my weekly talks with her that leaves me feeling reinvigorated, joyful, and even more grounded. It’s a connection I deeply cherish, and I never want to miss these precious moments.

I’m especially looking forward to seeing her in person soon. It’s been almost four months since I moved back to Georgia, and while our phone calls are amazing, nothing beats face-to-face time with her. Sitting together, laughing over tea, or simply soaking in her presence will bring me even more joy. Until then, I’m counting down the days while soaking in the blessings of every call we share.

It’s okay to feel disappointed. It’s a natural response to life’s challenges and setbacks. Yet, it’s important not to dwell there for too long. Feel it in the moment, acknowledge it, but then pick yourself up and keep moving forward. Right now, I’m in a season of uncertainty, unsure of my next steps. But I find peace in knowing that God already has a plan for me. If I trust Him completely, there’s no reason to worry because He isn’t worried. That realization is so reassuring. It reminds me that my life is held securely in the hands of someone who loves me deeply.

I’m learning to truly desire God. The more I delight in Him, the more I want to continue delighting in Him. It’s a beautiful cycle of discovery and love. I find myself falling more in love with Him as I come to know Him better. His love for me is unwavering past, present, and future. What amazes me most is that He loves me just as I am. Not some polished, perfect version of myself, but the real me the one who doesn’t have all the answers but chooses to believe in Him anyway.

This journey has reminded me that life doesn’t have to be perfectly mapped out, nor do I have to be perfect to be loved by God. I can take comfort in the fact that His plans are far greater than anything I could imagine for myself. Trusting Him allows me to let go of my worries, even in the uncertainty. And that freedom? It’s where I’m learning to truly live.

I’ve come to realize that no location can define or confine me. I’m not bound to any one place because wherever I go, blessings follow. It’s not the external surroundings that matter it’s what’s inside of me. I carry purpose. In fact, I am purpose. I don’t need to chase or pursue what I inherently embody. It took me some time to fully understand my worth and recognize how valuable I am not for what I do, but for who God created me to be.

I know now that my value lies in my ability to help bring about change in a world that desperately needs it. I’m here, along with other like-minded believers, to make an impact, one heart at a time. I find comfort knowing that I’m part of a tribe a global community of people who carry the same truth and boldness I do. No, I’m not crazy for thinking this way. I’m simply someone who wholeheartedly believes that every person deserves to know what I know and believe: that Jesus Christ is real, alive, and deeply personal.

It is truly my joy to do my reasonable service to serve and share this message of unconditional love. The most beautiful thing about Jesus is His love it knows no limits or conditions. Who could possibly pass up a love like that? I certainly couldn’t. This is why I share my faith, not out of obligation but out of joy. Knowing Jesus has transformed my life, and I want others to experience that same love and purpose. My location may change, but my mission stays the same: to be a light wherever I go, reminding others that they too are deeply loved

In this season of lean, I discovered how resourceful and creative I could be. I became my own beauty guru, teaching myself to braid my hair and do my makeup with only a handful of items sometimes without the “main” ones most people would consider essential. It made the process more challenging, but I found a way to make it work. I even figured out how to do my nails and discovered a clever hack: after painting, taking a shower helps remove the excess polish from your skin. These small victories became big accomplishments, reminding me how much I’m capable of.

I can’t help but smile as I think about the skills I’ve honed during this season of lack. I’ve grown proud not in a boastful way, but in gratitude for the crafts I’ve mastered with my own hands. There’s a kind of joy in making something beautiful out of very little. This is a lesson I want to carry with me even when this season ends: the ability to make the most of what I have and see abundance where others might see scarcity. It’s a reminder that creativity thrives when the resources are few but the heart is full.

Reflecting on this time fills me with gratitude. I’ve accomplished so much in what some might call a time of limitation, but for me, it has been a period of growth and discovery. This chapter has shown me that even in moments of lack, I can create something beautiful and meaningful. I wouldn’t trade these lessons for anything because they’ve made me stronger and more capable.