For the longest time, I thought I was doing it all wrong.
I'd look around at others who seemed to have this spiritual thing figured out—people who had time for hour-long devotionals, who attended every church service, who spoke in a language that felt foreign to my everyday reality.
Meanwhile, I was drowning in laundry, homeschooling two boys on the spectrum, trying to be a good wife, daughter, sister, and friend—all while feeling like God was somewhere "out there," waiting for me to finally get quiet enough to connect with Him.
Spoiler alert: That moment never came.
But here's what did come: a slow, beautiful awakening to the truth that I was never separated from Him in the first place.
God didn't need me to have it all together. He didn't need perfect quiet or a formal prayer time. He was right there in the noise—in the dishes piling up, in the dirt under my fingernails from the garden, in the whispered prayers I breathed while folding the hundredth load of laundry.
I realized I'd been taught that finding God was complicated. That it required special knowledge, perfect circumstances, or someone else to show me the "right way." But the truth? It's beautifully simple.
God isn't outside of me, waiting for me to get my act together. He's inside me—in every breath, every heartbeat, every moment of this messy, beautiful life.
That understanding—what I call embodied divinity—changed everything. It's the knowing that God doesn't just live "out there" or "up there." He lives in here, in this body, in this moment, in this breath.
Once I stopped looking for God in all the "right" places and started finding Him everywhere—especially in the ordinary—I couldn't unsee it. He was there all along. He always had been.
So I started sharing what I was learning. Not because I had it all figured out (spoiler: I don't), but because I wanted others who felt like me to know: You're not crazy. You're not doing it wrong. And you're definitely not alone.
That's what My Busy Peace is all about—a space where we remember that holy ground is often found between the dishes and the dirt, where we learn that constant communication with the Divine isn't a discipline, it's a love affair with Life itself.