Sometimes the moment meant to save us arrives before we are ready to receive it.
In this deeply personal reflection, I share how pain, shame, and unprocessed grief kept me revolving in survival mode — until faith invited me inward. This is a story of learning to tend the inner garden with self-compassion, to meet God in the places I once avoided, and to soften toward myself as part of the healing. I discovered that healing begins when we stop pretending, start listening, and allow grace to meet us where we are. Evolution, I’ve learned, is not about moving faster — it’s about moving inward with honesty, faith, and compassion.
When Pain Becomes an Invitation to Inner Alignment
The Moment the Mask Slipped
I remember it was November 2015, a Sunday, after a church service. I was speaking to a friend when she made a comment that pierced through my carefully held composure:
“You’ve lost your spunk.”
She was right.
I responded with a logical explanation, attempting to cover up what I was truly experiencing. But beneath the surface, my reality was far more fragile. I was heartbroken, dejected, hopeless — and in the process of losing a part of my life. I was miscarrying.
I was present in my mind, but absent in spirit. I was moving through life on autopilot, going through the motions without truly inhabiting them.
A Word Spoken Too Soon — and Yet Right on Time
My friend shared how, after a failed relationship, she had gone to God with radical honesty. She told Him exactly what she wanted and specifically asked for someone experienced in relationships. In her testimony, God answered — precisely.
She wasn’t offering advice as much as she was extending an invitation: hope is still possible.
At that time, I could barely receive it.
My own relationship history felt like a catalogue of pain and disappointment. I felt ill-equipped, exhausted, and unwilling to even consider trying again. The idea of engaging emotionally felt like a mammoth task — one that demanded more than I had to give.
When Help Arrives, but the Heart Is Not Ready
Two years later, an incident brought that conversation back from the backstage of my life to the forefront. With distance and reflection, I finally understood why I had needed to hear those words then.
I needed compassion for where I was.
I needed permission to hope again.
It felt as though I had been stranded on an island. Help had been sent — a boat had arrived — but I could not see it. Not because it wasn’t there, but because I wasn’t ready to be rescued.
Revolving in Survival, Not Evolving in Truth
I could not see the help because I did not want to. My ego devised a clever survival strategy: abandon the part of me that was in unbearable pain and saturated with shame.
Instead, I chose to wear a mask.
I was a youth leader — someone expected to set an example. I had fallen pregnant out of wedlock and was struggling to face the reality of single motherhood. I felt paralysed by fear and judgment, both real and imagined.
That Sunday, I was bleeding. The miscarriage had begun the night before. Yet I put on a brave face and attended church. The following day, I went to the hospital for physical treatment — while my heart remained unattended.
This was revolving: repeating patterns of avoidance, self-protection, and silence
When the Inner Garden Is Neglected
Scripture tells us that everything works together for good, but at that time, I could not access the lesson. I could not enter my inner garden — the sacred place where truth, healing, and God’s presence reside.
I had not yet learned how to:
- forgive myself
- make peace with shame and rejection
- extend self-compassion
Because of that neglect, my inner garden grew barren. Unprocessed pain from one relationship seeped into the next. Eventually, I reached a moment of reckoning:
If I did not tend to my pain, I would never be able to connect to my light.
And if I could not connect to my light, I would continue to revolve — not only in romantic relationships, but in every space where connection was required.
God’s Dwelling Place Within
There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy place where the Most High dwells.
God is within her; she will not fall.
I came to realise that deep within me exists a place untouched by trauma, failure, or loss. A place where God dwells. A place where love, wisdom, peace, and joy abide — not because life is perfect, but because God is present.
The inner journey toward that sacred place requires courage. It asks us to walk through shame, grief, and pain rather than around them. But it is there — in stillness and surrender — that evolution begins.
Each day, I am learning to make space.
Each day, I am learning to be still.
Each day, I am learning to return home.
From Revolving to Evolving — Be God’s Glow
Revolving kept me surviving.
Evolving called me into alignment.
Evolution did not erase my pain — it redeemed it.
As I continue this journey, I choose to tend my inner garden by extending self-compassion in order to honour my story. And to allow God’s light to shine through the cracks.
✨ I choose to Be God’s Glow —
not by pretending to be whole,
but by allowing God to heal me from the inside out.
✨ About the Author
Esther Bobo is a wellness storyteller and advocate passionate about helping women heal, grow, and live authentically. Through reflective writing and lived experience, she explores themes of self-awareness, emotional healing, and spiritual transformation — inviting readers to reconnect with their inner light and live from a place of truth.