About Me

I grew up in a loving and stable home – the kind where you didn’t need to worry about bills, you visited your cousins and grandma every summer and your parents rarely fought (or at least you didn’t see the fights).

I have a distinct memory of me as a 7-year old child. I was sitting on the balcony, looking up at the skies and asking God why he created me. I knew at a young age that we all had a reason to be here but I wanted to know more.

I started talking to God again to help me find my purpose.

I didn’t hear from him right away.

At corporate parties, while people spoke about the next quarter or made small talk ( I am terrible at small talk).

I would ask bigger and more random questions along the lines of “Are you happy?” and “Is this your calling?” or “What is your legacy going to be?” and “Why are you here?”.

While I would often have conversations with God, they were always one-sided until one cold November evening.

I was getting ready for church when I heard Jesus for the first time.

I was very enthusiastic, almost like a child who got her first toy. But when I shared my experience with people, they thought I was nuts. Hearing back from God was not normal in my circle.

I hid for a long time after that because I was so embarrassed to be seen as weird.

I don’t blame them because we always ridicule or judge what we don’t understand but I was more interested in their acceptance, rather than God’s approval.

It is a choice we all make – to be or not to be (ourselves).

But God had not given up on me.

I was sitting on the floor, leaning against the radiator and meditating, when out of nowhere, I saw the vision. It was like a movie playing in my head.

I was sitting on the beach crying, and then as I looked up, I saw him approaching. It was the second time I had seen him, and by “him,” I mean my most favourite person in the whole world: Jesus.

He was dressed in a white robe, and he had some red cloth over it; he looked like the statue I had in my study. I remember running up to and hugging him. I was in my school uniform and would have been about four years old.

I was clinging to his knee and crying whilst asking him the question, “Why did you make me like this?” ( I felt different and hated being different. All I wanted was, to be like everyone else and belong.)

He then bent down and picked me up and carried me in his arms, and while my little hands wrapped around his neck, I remember thinking, “Wow!!!!!!!!!! No one has loved me like this ever, not even my own mother. In my head, a mother’s love was the ultimate love, but this . . .

I cannot begin to describe what I felt, but the love I felt was so pure, so unlike any love I’d ever experienced on this plane, that all I could do was weep with joy. I feel so unworthy of this love, and yet he saw me as worthy.

What can you do when someone loves you like that, other than weep with

gratitude?

I held onto him, and I was experiencing all these beautiful emotions at the same time: love, peace, joy, childlike excitement, fun.

I did not want it to end.

I was

boisterous, and he loved me.

vulnerable, and he loved me.

angry, and he loved me.

sad, and he loved me.

I felt unworthy and not enough, and he loved me.

Then he put me down and looked into my eyes. He had the kindest, wisest eyes I had ever seen, and he said, “I made you like this, so you can help others like you.” 

This is my favorite memory.

I could finally be ‘me’ and be loved. That had never happened before. Until that moment, love always felt like a transaction.  

I wanted to share this with you because it was important you know why Jesus is such an integral part of my life. It took me another decade to muster up the courage to do the work I was sent here for. 

I was doing work I really enjoyed and it was going well.

I was helping spiritual, high achievers, who wanted to live their purpose, make a difference and make money.

It was great but what I didn’t know at the time, God had other plans for me.