Phoenix: Live Love Laugh

Rebuilding Memories, One Step at a Time

Today marked my second time going to church this year—and honestly, that’s a big deal for me.

Why, you ask?

Because it hasn’t been easy. I’ve been fighting through one medical battle after another. If it’s not physical, it’s mental. But today felt like a victory. A quiet one, maybe… but still a victory.

This year is already full of firsts I haven’t experienced in a long time.
First solo Amtrak trip since my coma—check.
Returning to church—check.
And next up? A solo Mother’s Day weekend trip to celebrate my God-daughter’s college graduation. Just two weeks ago, her sister graduated high school. These milestones aren’t just theirs—they’re mine too. I’m rebuilding memories, one beautiful moment at a time.

You see, most of my old memories are clouded by trauma—many of them ending with me in a coma. That’s not the legacy I want to leave behind. And moments like these remind me that life really is short. I don’t just understand that phrase—I live it. Every single day.

So yes, give me my flowers now.
Celebrate your people while they’re still here.
We say it all the time, but we often forget to do it.

I’ve become a “seize the moment” kind of woman—with a side of caution, of course. Healing teaches you to embrace the present while honoring your limits.

The church was quiet today—maybe 20 people scattered across the pews. I found myself wondering, Where is everyone?
Have we become so busy, so distracted, that we can’t make time to come and thank God?

Today’s message really made me think. The pastor spoke about how conversations are shifting when it comes to state and religion. Yes, the separation of church and state is a legal concept meant to protect boundaries—but the spiritual role of the church is defined by scripture, not the state.

The Bible makes it clear:
The power to bind and loose in spiritual matters belongs to the church—not the government (see Matthew 18:15–20).

We are living in the last days, and conversations like this aren’t just theological—they’re timely.

So while the room was half empty, I felt full.
Full of reflection.
Full of purpose.
Full of gratitude for another Saturday in God’s presence.

Here’s to rebuilding, one step at a time.
Here’s to being still here.