By Olana Carbaugh · 4 min read
There were years when God felt like a rumor — something other people experienced while I stood outside the window, watching.
If you’ve ever felt that distance, I want you to know two things. First, you are not alone. Second, the distance is not the whole story.
For most of my life an inner recording played on a loop: you are too much, you are not enough, you will be left. No matter what I did, I couldn’t shut it off.
Words may not break bones, but they wound the heart — and are more hurtful than broken bones.
What changed wasn’t willpower. It was encounter. Slowly, gently, a louder Voice began to speak over the recording — not shaming me for hearing it, but telling me the truth about who I am.
Wherever you are today, you can take a walk with the Father and simply say, “I don’t know how to do this.” He is not far. He has been with you the whole time.
How first light on the North Shore became my quiet place with God.
Trading the names we were given for the name He gives.
The fear, the nudge, and the obedience that became this book.