By Level9 / Free
People often talk about mountain-top faith—those victorious moments when everything seems clear, and you feel strong. But I’ve come to understand that real faith is tested in the valley. When you’re uncertain, worn down, overlooked, or grieving… that’s where God becomes real.
When I wrote Next, I wasn’t celebrating a win—I was surviving. I was writing from a place of quiet desperation and deep gratitude. Life had thrown its punches, but grace had kept me standing. That book became a personal prayer, a poem of thanks to the One who held me when everything else seemed shaky.
I’ve slept on floors, prayed with empty pockets, and cried in places no one knew I was breaking. But time after time, God showed up—not always with answers, but with presence. With just enough light to take the next step. And honestly, that was all I needed.
Poetry became my way of speaking back to the storm. Of processing what I didn’t always know how to say out loud. It was in those quiet, uncertain moments that the words flowed the clearest. The valley gave birth to the verses.
If you’re in that low place right now, I want you to know—you’re not alone. Keep holding on. Keep praying. Keep writing, if you must. Don’t measure your faith by how loud you shout, but by how deeply you trust when it’s dark. My prayer is that these poems are more than words—that they’re a companion in your valley. A small reminder that healing isn’t about skipping pain, but walking through it with faith.
