My Calling: Chosen, Cleansed, Commissioned
I carry a prophetic call marked by intimacy, intercession, and scribal anointing.
The Lord awakened me through dreams, visions, and divine whispers—often in the midnight hour or through tears I could not explain. He drew me into a covenant relationship that is both holy and costly.
I didn’t discover my prophetic call in a conference or through a prophet's declaration. I discovered it in the middle of wrestling.
In the ache of silence. In the dreams that refused to fade and the tears that carried no words.
I found it in the quiet moments where I was simply asking, "Lord, is there more?"
It came like a slow unfolding—a scroll being opened within me. I would dream things that later came to pass.
I would write what I thought were simple journal entries, only to find they echoed what the Spirit was speaking.
I would hear things in prayer that no one else knew, and then they would be confirmed.
The Lord didn’t just speak to me—He began to speak through me.
And I knew: this was not imagination.
This was invitation. I wasn’t chasing destiny.
Destiny was chasing me.
One day, He impressed on my heart, "You are My voice in the wilderness. You are My pen and My intercessor."
From that moment, everything changed.
I am not a performer.
Not a people-pleaser.
I am a worshiper.
A witness.
A woman in love with her King.
I was not called to fit in, but to stand apart. Not to impress, but to intercede. My life is a testimony that even the most fragile can roar when touched by the Lion of Judah. And even the most wounded can write when healed by the Word Himself.