Journey With Coach Gwen: Wellness From Within

01/11/2026

🍀Pray from Assurance, Not Anxiety🍀

Effective prayer is not born from fear, urgency, or a list of unmet needs. It rises from a deeper place—a place of assurance, gratitude, and trust in the God who already knows what we need before we even recognize the problem.

To pray effectively is to shift from petition to praise, from striving to thanksgiving, from anxiety to quiet confidence.

God is not moved by the length of our requests or the urgency of our petitions. What moves His heart is faith expressed through praise and thanksgiving—the posture that says, “I trust You even before I see the answer.” Scripture shows again and again that it is faith, not pleading, that draws His response. Praise and thanksgiving are the language of that faith.

God is not waiting for us to inform Him of our struggles. He is not unaware of our needs. Before a word forms on our tongue, He already knows it. Before the challenge appears, the provision is already moving toward us. Prayer, then, is not about alerting God—it is about aligning ourselves with His faithfulness.

When we pray from assurance, our words sound different.
They carry the weight of trust.
They rest in the truth that God’s answer is already on the way—
not in the form we demand,
but in the form He knows is best.

Thanksgiving becomes our declaration:
“Lord, I know You are already working.”

Praise becomes our posture:
“Father, I trust the way You choose to provide.”

And quiet confidence becomes our witness:
“Your faithfulness is my certainty.”

This is effective prayer.
Not pleading. Not performing. Not negotiating. But trusting.

Trusting that God sees what we cannot.
Trusting that His timing is perfect.
Trusting that His provision is already unfolding, even in the unseen. When we pray like this, we don’t walk away wondering if God heard us. We walk away anchored—steady—assured that the One who loves us is already at work.

01/10/2026

🍀When You Journey With God, You Cannot Stay the Same 🍀

Life has a way of slipping into monotony. We wake up, move through our routines, try to improve ourselves, try to do better, try to be better—yet somehow we end the year feeling the same familiar weight. The same lack. The same fear. The same exhaustion. The same sense that no matter how hard we push, something essential is still missing. It’s as if we’ve been living on autopilot, circling the same emotional landscapes, repeating the same internal stories, and arriving at the same unfulfilled place.

And then, quietly, a longing rises. A desire to do something different. A desire to choose a path we’ve never chosen before. A desire to finally break the cycle and step into a life that feels meaningful, aligned, and whole. That longing is not random—it is a signal. A call. An invitation.

This year, I want to invite you to forge a path far different from the one you usually choose. A path that does not rely solely on your strength, your strategies, your willpower, or your self-sufficiency. A path that invites God—not as a last resort, not as a distant idea, but as a living presence—to journey with you.

Before you take that step, pause and reflect. Who is God, truly? What is His character and nature? Who has He been in your life? What moments—quiet or miraculous—have revealed His presence to you? These questions are not theological exercises; they are the doorway into a deeper realm. Because the first step of this journey is knowing, understanding, and believing in your spirit who God is. That knowing becomes the foundation of everything that follows.

To anchor this, reflect on the nature of God through these qualities:
Mercy, Faith, Compassion, Omnipotence, Omnipresence, Sovereignty, Abundance, Grace, Emmanuel, Omnibenevolence, Healing, Counsel, Divinity, Forgiveness, Majesty, Redemption, Love, Protection, Transcendence, Peace, Omniscient, Confidence, Infallibility, Provision, Victory, Wholeness

As human beings, we are not separate from this divine nature—we are partakers of it. And when this truth moves from the mind into the spirit, something extraordinary happens. We don’t merely experience God’s nature in fleeting moments; we begin to become it. His peace becomes our peace. His abundance becomes our abundance. His compassion becomes our compassion. His strength becomes the strength we stand on. This is not imitation—it is participation. It is the unveiling of what has always been true about us.

When this truth takes root, everything shifts. You start to see yourself and your circumstances through a new lens. The old self—the one shaped by fear, scarcity, and the narratives of this modern world—begins to lose its grip. The labels you and society have attached to your identity dissolve like smoke. You return home to the self that has been buried beneath years of survival—your true self, your true identity.

From that place, a new narrative emerges:
I am abundance. I am healing. I am peace. I am freedom. I am love. I am possibility.

These are not affirmations. They are declarations of identity. They do not describe something you have—they reveal something you are. This is what it means to live in alignment with truth. This is what it means to reclaim your divine inheritance.

And this is where life begins to shift.

Journeying with God does not mean you will never face pain, loss, mistakes, or hardship. But it does mean you will walk through life from a higher position—one grounded in peace, steadiness, and divine companionship. Many of us have spent years trying to change our lives through effort alone. We have moved nonstop, toiled tirelessly, chased every formula, technique, and strategy, yet still found ourselves stuck. Maybe the issue isn’t effort. Maybe it’s direction. Maybe it’s who we rely on.

So I invite you—gently, boldly, wholeheartedly—to try something different this year. To journey with God. If you are tired, overwhelmed, or unsure how to move forward… if you’ve reached the end of your own strength… if self‑sufficiency has become an illusion that no longer sustains you… then step into surrender with courage. Because when you dare to journey with God, breakthrough is not a possibility—it becomes an inevitability.

Dare to step into this journey—even for a short season—let’s see what unfolds. Let’s see what shifts. Let’s see what breaks open. And then look at your life with honest eyes… and witness for yourself what happens when you finally allow God to walk with you.

01/08/2026

01/02/2026

12/29/2025

🍀 Life Is Already Beautiful — Don’t Wait Until It’s Gone 🍀

Today’s world has rewritten what it means to live a beautiful life.
It tells us beauty looks like a big, stunning house, a six‑figure salary, luxury cars, latest gadgets and an even longer list of things to acquire.

Everything tied to possessions and wants.
But beneath the shine, these often come wrapped in life’s greatest scams — the illusion that fulfillment is always somewhere else, always one step ahead.

This isn’t about being mediocre or rejecting ambition.
It’s a reminder to rethink where our mind is leading us — because sometimes, the more we chase what sparkles, the more we overlook what’s already shining quietly in our hands.

As I grow older, I’m beginning to understand something I never fully grasped when I was younger:
Life is already beautiful.
Not because everything is perfect, but because the essentials — the things that truly matter — are already here, already free, already within reach.

The problem is never the absence of blessings.
It’s that our minds are often set on something else.
We chase what’s far away and overlook what’s right in front of us.

When I sit with it, I realize that the real treasures of life are simple:
The ability to eat and drink every day without feeding tubes.
A body that moves freely and without pain. A roof that shelters us. Safety and protection from accidents and calamities we never even knew we avoided. Family and friends — imperfect, but present. The gift of walking, talking, seeing, and breathing without machines, tubes, or assistive devices. The warmth of the sun and the feeling of its heat on our skin. The calm and serenity of the beach, the forest, and the park. The sounds of birds, squirrels, ducks, and turtles that bring immense joy.

These things are free.
These things are enough.
But we forget — until life forces us to remember.

As a nurse, I’ve seen how one diagnosis, one accident, one moment can change the entire course of a person’s life:
From walking freely to being confined to a bed.
From breathing on their own to relying on oxygen.
From independence to dependence.

The lesson is simple:
Life is beautiful, not because it gives us everything we want, but because it quietly offers everything we truly need, for free.

Learn to appreciate your life now — while you can still taste it, touch it, move through it, and live it — before “too late” becomes the moment you never thought would come. Remember, life is already beautiful.

12/28/2025

☘️The Legacy of a Life Well‑Lived ☘️

In a world that pressures us to keep up with society’s standards of how life should look, we’re pulled into acquiring more—more wealth, more status, more prestige, more power. Little by little, people become driven to live for themselves, to build purpose around personal gain. And in this pursuit, compassion and kindness slip further from reach, overshadowed by a culture that rewards self‑interest over humanity.

When I was little, I used to follow my father as he installed electricity around our neighborhood. He earned very little doing dangerous work, yet he always showed up with quiet dignity. One day, after an especially difficult installation, I expected him to be paid in cash—money I had already imagined turning into our favorite sweetheart bread. Instead, we walked home with a bag of sweet potatoes.

I was disappointed. He saw it on my face.
With gentleness in his eyes, he explained that our neighbor simply couldn’t afford to pay him—and that the sweet potatoes were enough. Then he told me something I didn’t understand at the time: "Don’t be upset. Try to understand their situation.”

That moment stayed with me. It was one of many times I watched my father choose compassion over convenience, kindness over gain, humanity over self‑interest. He didn’t have much money, but he had a heart full of love, compassion and kindness—and that made him rich in all the ways that matter.

My father embodied what a true legacy looks like long before I had the language for it. He didn’t leave behind wealth, titles, or possessions—he left something far greater. Through every small act of compassion, every moment of kindness, every choice to help even when it cost him something, he showed us that a life’s worth is measured in humanity, not accumulation.

The way he lived carved an imprint on who we are. His gentleness shaped how we see people. His compassion taught us how to move through the world with understanding. His kindness became the compass we carry into every decision, every relationship, every moment that asks us to choose between self‑interest and humanity. His life didn’t just influence us—it formed us.

And long after he is gone, the world is still better because he was here. That is the kind of legacy that never fades.

Reflection:
How do you want to be remembered—and how do you want people to talk about you when you are gone?

12/27/2025

☘️The Crown We Were Never Meant to Wear ☘️

There is a kind of entitlement that quietly seeps into the human heart—an invisible crown we place on our own heads, convincing ourselves that we deserve to be served, obeyed, prioritized, and pleased. It’s the belief that our wants are urgent, our frustrations justified, our words permissible simply because we feel them.

And yet, when I look at the life of Christ—the One who had every right to demand honor but instead chose profound humility—I’m struck by the contrast. The God who could command the universe washed feet. The One who could summon angels carried a cross. The King of Kings was born in a manger—the least place—when He deserved a throne.

If God Himself modeled humility, how did we humans become so entitled?

As a nurse, I’ve seen entitlement up close—its sharp edges, its blind spots, its unintended cruelty. One day in particular still sits heavy in my memory. It was one of those shifts where it felt like juggling fire with one hand tied. Six patients, all with urgent needs. Six lives depending on my judgment, my speed, my presence.

I was moving room to room nonstop—vital signs, medications, assessments, blood draws, stat calls, CT scans, tele alerts, an elderly patient trying to get out of bed, another showing signs of sepsis, another possibly having a stroke.

And then came the complaint.
A patient insisted I hadn’t checked on him “for hours,” despite the fact that I had been in his room just an hour earlier. He demanded to see the nurse leader. The leader, hearing only his version, was upset with me.

Meanwhile, he was not the one struggling to breathe.
Not the one whose blood pressure was crashing due to sepsis.
Not the one whose heart rate was 160 at rest.
Not the one who needed a CT scan within 30 minutes due to stroke.
Not the 82‑year‑old trying to climb out of bed.
He was simply the one who was impatient for discharge details.
And yet, his voice carried the most weight that day.

This Is the Hard‑Core Lesson:
The pain wasn’t in the task—it was in what it revealed about us as humans.

Entitlement makes us believe our inconvenience is more important than someone else’s emergency. It convinces us that our frustration is more valid than another person’s exhaustion. It tells us our expectations justify our tone, our words, our demands. It whispers that our needs must be met immediately, even when they are not urgent.

In hospitals, this shows up often. Not in everyone, but in enough moments to leave a mark. Some patients and families treat nurses as if we are hotel staff—expecting room‑service speed for water, blankets, socks, or comfort items.

And then there is the other side—the institutional side. Not malicious, but often disconnected. Not intentionally dehumanizing, but unintentionally forgetting that nurses are humans.

I still remember a huddle where a nurse leader said, “You are paid to do your job.” No acknowledgment of the impossible load. No recognition of the emotional weight. Just a reminder to keep going, like robots. In that moment, I felt myself go numb. Not because I didn’t care—but because I had cared too much for too long.

Humility, on the other hand, opens our eyes. It softens our tone. It slows our reactions. It reminds us that we are not the center of the universe. And if Jesus—who began His life in the lowest place—chose humility over entitlement, then surely we can choose it too.

Reflection:
Before we speak, demand, complain, or assume, what would change if we paused and asked: “Am I wearing a crown I was never meant to wear?”

Because the world would be gentler, hospitals would be kinder, and humanity would feel a little more like the God who showed us what humility truly looks like.

12/27/2025

☘️Here and Now: Where Life Truly Happens🍀

When I was a child, Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve felt like the most magical nights of the year. I would fight sleep just to witness the exact moment midnight arrived—the beginning of a new year, the moment we welcomed Jesus into the world—moments that felt sacred even though I couldn’t explain why. And what’s beautiful is that even now, as an adult, I still find myself doing the very same thing.

But as I sat with that memory recently, something clearer emerged: it was never just those holidays that were magical. It was the moment itself. Every moment we’re alive carries that same quiet possibility—if we’re paying attention. When we’re present, we can feel how a single moment can shift our life without warning.

That reflection taught me something simple but life‑changing: if we want to truly live, we have to pause, redirect our mind back to what is here, and anchor our awareness in the now. Because the present moment is the only place where life is actually happening.

Yet we spend so much of our lives fearing the future, trying to predict it, trying to control it. We spend just as much time replaying the past, regretting what we can’t rewrite. And in that tug‑of‑war between what’s gone and what hasn’t arrived, we lose the only thing that’s real—the present moment, the place where our actual life is happening.

And here’s where the truth hits deeper:
Anxiety only comes alive when we leave the present and run ahead into the future. Regret only comes alive when we turn back and relive the past. But when we hold our thoughts in the now—when we return our awareness to what is right here—we come back to life itself.

The magic I felt as a child wasn’t just about the holiday.
It was about presence.
It was about being awake to the moment.
It was about witnessing life as it unfolds.

And that magic is still here—available in every breath, every ordinary second that becomes extraordinary when we finally pay attention.

12/22/2025

🍀 When Paradoxically, Uncertainty Leads to Inner Peace 🍀

These past few months, I did something that once terrified me—I stepped out of the financial stability and familiar identity of bedside nursing and allowed myself to enter an uncertain path. I expected fear to swallow me whole. Instead, I found inner peace.

Breaking autopilot showed me how heavy a rigid identity can become, and how liberating it is to finally live by what feels true. I realized that what we call stability is often just an illusion of safety—something we cling to because it feels predictable. But that kind of safety is fleeting. It can be taken from us at any moment, no matter how tightly we hold on. And sometimes, it keeps us from trying new things, from choosing ourselves, from living in alignment with our own truth.

What surprised me most was this: uncertainty isn’t the enemy. It’s actually what life is made of. When you stop resisting it and start befriending it, the unknown becomes less of a threat and more of a doorway. Sometimes uncertainty becomes the space where peace can finally reach you.

To choose to live a life that feels true to you is one of the greatest acts of courage. Let inner peace be your compass. Even when the road looks unclear from the outside, that quiet steadiness inside you is proof you’re moving in the right direction.

Reflection:
What is the thing you deeply want to try—or finally walk away from—but have been avoiding because of uncertainty?

12/21/2025

🌿The Power of a True Few 🌿

Because the right few are worth more than the many.

I’ve always valued quality over quantity. Even as a child, people came into my life, but only a few ever became real friends. Most were acquaintances, and that felt natural to me.

As I grew older and my world widened, the same pattern continued. In fact, the older I get, the fewer friends I have. For a long time, I wondered why. Then it hit me: the people I hold closest are the ones who have shared both the good and the hard seasons with me. We’ve laughed, argued, said things we didn’t mean, forgiven each other, and found our way back again. That kind of friendship is rare — and it’s real.

I enjoy being around many people, but I love being with a few. Growing older pulls us deeper beneath the surface. We start valuing different things — honesty, depth, presence, truth. And as our values shift, our circle naturally becomes smaller.

It’s not a loss.
It’s clarity.

Reflection:

As you grow older, how have your connections evolved — and what do those changes reveal about the person you’re becoming?

12/15/2025

This week, we honor the quiet power of courage. Each day invites you to take one bold step that stretches your comfort zone and strengthens your soul.

Your challenge: Choose one courageous act each day and commit to it fully. Let your action be intentional and heart-led.

12/08/2025

This week, we rise with kindness—simple acts that ripple outward and inward. Kindness transforms not just others, but you.