The Intention

I have had a love for writing for as long as I can remember. Let’s take it back… way back, actually. Did y’all go through the D.A.R.E. program in 5th grade? Same. Well, that program wasn’t only beneficial for me in encouraging us not to do drugs—it also showed me that I had a knack for writing. Not sure this was your experience, but at my school, each student in every class had to write an essay. This essay had to be about what we had learned throughout the course of D.A.R.E. and how it would impact our lives and future. Each class had one chosen winner, and those students had to stand on stage and read it at the D.A.R.E. graduation.

Yep, you guessed it—my essay was chosen. I stood in front of all my fellow students, the teachers, and the parents at the graduation and read it. It was about as funny as you can imagine. Did I tell everyone that if they did drugs, they would grow up and live under a bridge? Yes. Was I wholeheartedly serious and really thought that if you experimented with any substance, you would end up homeless? Also yes. Oh, the naivety of being a child—pure innocence.

This was my stunned response when my mom asked what I was being awarded for. She couldn’t understand how I could be receiving an award and not have any idea what it was for… LOL. The day came, and Mom and I showed up to the ceremony, anticipating my name being called so it would finally be revealed why we were there. They announced every award, called the student’s name to come up on stage and accept it—and every time we anxiously awaited to hear “Kaitlyn Alexander.”

Finally, I saw my English teacher walk on stage—we’ll call her Mrs. B. Mrs. B presented the award and announced my name. In her words:

“The English II award goes to a vibrant young lady who was a leader in classroom discussion. She carefully completed her assignments, always asked intelligent questions, and frequently set a positive example for her peers. This particular young woman wrote interesting essays, read aloud when asked, and pushed others to work as diligently as she did. Congratulations to Kaitlyn Alexander for earning the English II academic award.”

Yes, Mrs. B even gave my mom a copy of her little speech for us to keep—and yes, my mom did write it word for word on her Facebook status back in 2012.

Moving along to circa 2015, I created a blog and started writing again. I was in college, having to write a series of papers for English class, and felt inspired to create a space where I could express my thoughts. I’ve always felt it was a calling. I didn’t realize it at the time, but now I know that this calling was from the Lord. Every single one of us has been given gifts from God—different gifts for different people. These gifts are given to help us reach others and further His kingdom. Being able to thoughtfully and lovingly articulate my thoughts into words and share them with the world is one of, what I believe, God’s chosen gifts for me.

Here we are, about 10 years later. I’ve known for a while that I’d pick it back up; I was just waiting for God to tell me when. I had put it off through different seasons of life—college, jobs, relationships, marriage, pregnancy. Along the way, the Lord put people in my path very intentionally to give me nudges: “You should write a book.” “You’re really good with words.” These people didn’t know it, but I knew they were whispers from God, encouraging me for the day I’d begin again.

Once I had my son, I wanted to give myself the space to completely immerse myself in motherhood. We’re now approaching my baby’s first birthday 🥹—my first year as a mama—and about three weeks ago, I heard the Lord tell me, “It’s time to get back to writing.” So much time has passed, and in truth, most of my testimony unfolded during the seasons I was farthest from it.

I’m excited to see God work. I’m excited to see what He teaches me, how He uses me, what He breaks off of me, any revelations He reveals in this process, and the light and love that are shared in any and all ways. I must say, I already feel incredibly passionate and driven to be doing this again. Motherhood, especially being a stay-at-home mom, has given me a new appreciation for “me” things—things I do or enjoy that are outside of being a wife, mother, daughter, or friend. Me time is different now—less frequent, but cherished much more. I’ve never felt more full than I do in this season of my life. I’ve never felt so close to Jesus, so certain of what I’m meant to be doing—and writing this blog is one of those things.

I can’t help but feel that all these years leading up to now—my time away from writing, the things the Lord has stripped away, the lessons He’s revealed, the habits He’s reshaped, the healing of my heart and mind, the pruning of relationships—were meant for far more than simply sanctifying me.

Sanctification—the process of being made holy or “set apart” for a special purpose—where believers are made holy at the moment of salvation, and where they are continuously transformed to become more like Christ throughout their lives.

Maybe it was also meant for a moment such as this. I pray over this site and over every reader who finds it. If anything I’ve said has resonated with you or stirred you to follow along, I invite you to join me. Whatever brought you here, if it’s part of His will, I encourage you to stay. The world today—and the generation we’re in—craves relatability. Everyone is looking for someone who gets it, who gets them. I’d love to help people feel less alone and more understood, but I won’t do that at the cost of compromising truth.

You can expect to find all topics here: faith, marriage, motherhood, relationships, business, travel, humor, hobbies, childhood, mental health, trauma, healing—everything. Life is complex, it’s deep. I’m not one for small talk, and I make it a point to take inventory in my life often to ensure I’m living with intention. Not every post will be heavy; some will be lighthearted. But you can always expect thoughtfulness, full transparency, and grace.

Come as you are, and leave lighter, understood, and rooted in His love.