Today, It’s Working Together for Good - 8/28

 


It is August 28th, and I find myself thinking about the scripture that has anchored me through so many seasons: Romans 8:28. And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose. At the end of 2020, I did two things that felt significant to me: I loc’d my hair and I got a tattoo. On my arm are the words “Y sabemos — R8v28.” Y sabemos comes from the Spanish translation of Romans 8:28 and means “and we know.” 

At the time, I couldn’t have known everything that would come after that tattoo. I couldn’t have known all the things I would experience, the things I would lose, the things that would change me, or the things I would have to learn to release. But every day, when I lay down and see those words on my arm, I am reminded: and we know.

What I know now is that “working together for good” doesn’t always mean that everything works out the way I wanted it to. Sometimes it didn’t work. Sometimes the answer was no. Sometimes the plan changed. Sometimes life changed. And sometimes I had to become someone new in the process. But I still believe that even if it don’t work, it’s still working for your good. 

Romans 8:28 doesn’t require me to understand how every piece fits together; it reminds me to trust the One who does. So today, on 8/28, I can look at the words I placed on my arm almost six years ago and say them with a different kind of knowing. Not because everything has been easy. Not because everything worked the way I thought it would. But because through it all, God has continued to work. Today, it’s working together for good.




Finishing Fervent



This evening I finished reading Fervent. I’ve probably checked it out digitally 3 if not 4 times. Prior to last night, I had read some of Chapter One. Last night was different. It felt as if Holy Spirit was guiding me to sit still and read. 

As I read the last 4 chapters today, I understood why I had to read this book. I think to some degree fear had paralyzed me and I could identify easily what I’ve made as idols in my life. 

Using the app, I made a study guide for future reference. 

Since, my illness reading has been challenging. Using the Kindle and Audible apps really helped me with finishing this book. 🙏🏾
 

No First Day: What I Wrote in 2019 & What I Understand Now


I wrote the following post on August 18, 2019

I don’t think I was prepared to not have a first day of school. I didn’t want to go to church yesterday but a friend pretty much questioned my reasons and he didn’t even show up. 🙄Afterwards I took a nap with Solange playing, because that’s a thing for me. Then I remembered that while I may not have a first day, Tyler does, Alex does and some many other people that I love do. 

Sometimes I want to be sad about the situation but those closest to me ain’t trying hear it. So with that being said I wish everyone a wonderful first day of school. I know that each of you bringing blessings to the building by simply pulling up to the school.

August 19, 2026

If everything had gone according to plan today would have been the beginning of my 25th year of teaching. At this moment it’s the milestone that is not happening. A part of me is sad and the other part of me encourages me to hold space for all of the things that have made me more resilient. It’s a moment to be gentle and loving to myself.

A couple of illnesses have taken me on different paths. I’ve had to learn to heal and to rest. I’ve also had to learn that just as seasons change so do our lives. With everything that I’ve been through I’d encourage teachers to take care of themselves and don’t over exert yourself. Practice self-care. Schedule your annual exams. Know your numbers. 

So today, there may be no first day of school for me and no celebration of a 25th year, but there is still a life worth of honoring. I can miss the classroom, grieve the milestone that is not happening, and remain grateful for the lives I touched along the way. I will celebrate every teacher who is pulling up to a school building and bringing a blessing simply by being there. And I will remind myself that although my season has changed, the teacher in me remains. Still learning, still encouraging and still using what I have lived through to help others. 




I Tried the Instagram Wordmark Trend—and I Kinda Like It


 Apparently, Instagram changed its wordmark, and because I spend enough time on social media to notice when creativity and technology collide, of course I had to play along. 

Instagram recently introduced a new wordmark after nearly a decade with its familiar script design, trading it for a cleaner, more modern custom lettering style—and, as expected, social media had plenty to say about it. (The Verge) Somewhere in the middle of all the opinions, I came across a creator who shared instructions for using ChatGPT to reimagine your own name in a style inspired by Instagram’s new look. I saved the idea, tried it just for fun, and LindarInsights got its Instagram wordmark moment. 

What I love most about experiments like this isn’t necessarily creating a new logo or changing my brand; it’s allowing myself to stay curious. I’ve always enjoyed learning new technology, trying creative tools and seeing what I can make with them. Sometimes creativity doesn’t need a business plan, a strategy or even a purpose beyond I wonder what this would look like? This time, that little bit of curiosity produced the LindarInsights wordmark you see here—and I have to admit, I kinda like it.


Maybe That’s What It Took

This day started off okay.

Earlier this morning, somewhere around 10 or 11, I got caught in a storm that I didn’t even know was coming. I made it home, did a few things around the house, and went on about my day.

Then around 3:00, the notifications started.

Tornado warning.

Then another one.

And another one.

The notifications just kept coming and coming. Then the sirens started going off. The sky got dark. The rain started coming down. The wind was blowing. At one point, I thought, This is like the Wizard of Oz over here.

It was crazy.

Then, at 3:42 p.m., the power went out.

And it stayed out.

As I write this, it’s after 8:00. The rain has stopped. (Kinda) The tornado sirens have stopped. The wind has settled down. The sun even came out for a hot minute before apparently deciding it had somewhere else to be.

And now…

It’s quiet.

Really quiet.

No television. No background noise. No lights. No plugging in all the things I normally plug in. I’m conserving the battery on my phone because I don’t know when the power is coming back on. So I’m not scrolling endlessly. I’m not watching television. I’m not doing all the things I might normally be doing at this time of the evening.

I’m just sitting here.

And strangely enough, I’m at peace.

There’s something about the quiet after a storm that feels different from ordinary quiet. A few hours ago, there were sirens telling us to pay attention. There were notifications telling us to take cover. The wind was blowing, the rain was falling, and everything outside seemed unsettled.

Now everything is still.

And so am I.

Maybe that’s what it took.

Maybe it took the power going out for me to stop trying to power everything else.

Maybe it took the television going silent for me to notice the silence.

Maybe it took not knowing when things would return to normal for me to simply sit in what is.

I talk so much about resting while you wait, and tonight, that’s literally what I’m doing.

Waiting for the power to come back on.

Waiting for another update.

Waiting to see what the rest of this evening will look like.

But I’m not anxious in the waiting. I’m not trying to fix the waiting. I’m just here.

Resting.

Listening.

Being still.

There’s something almost sacred about that.

We usually think we have to create peaceful moments. Light the candle. Play the music. Turn on the diffuser. Put the phone on Do Not Disturb. Schedule the quiet time.

Tonight, none of that happened.

The storm created the stillness for me.

I certainly wouldn’t have chosen tornado warnings, sirens, heavy rain, wind, or hours without electricity as my preferred route to a quiet evening. But sitting here in the aftermath, I’m reminded that sometimes life gets quiet in ways we didn’t plan.

And when it does, maybe we don’t have to rush to fill the silence.

Maybe we can just sit in it.

Maybe we can listen.

Maybe we can breathe.

Maybe we can thank God that the storm has passed and recognize the gift tucked inside the stillness that followed.

Tonight, I don’t know when the lights are coming back on.

But for right now, I’m okay sitting in the dark.

Maybe that’s what it took.


An Invitation To Pause - Triple 8s

 




     Today is August 8, 2026. The eighth month. The eighth day. And even this year quietly points me back to the number eight (2+6). Whether you see that as coincidence or simply a gentle reminder, today caused me to pause and reflect. For me, the number eight has long represented new beginnings, and today reminded me that beginning again doesn’t always happen because life went according to plan. Sometimes it happens because life changed us. Over the past few years, I’ve realized I’ve been grieving more than the loss of my father. I’ve been grieving the woman I was before illness, before loss, before plans shifted, and before life asked me to become someone I never expected to be. For a long time, I thought healing meant finding my way back to who I used to be. But today, I wonder if healing is really about having the courage to embrace who I am becoming.

     The Bible says, “Behold, I am doing a new thing” (Isaiah 43:19). It doesn’t say God is recreating yesterday. It says He is doing something new. That truth has become an invitation for me to release the expectations I once carried and receive this season for what it is. I may not be the same woman I was in 2024 or 2025, just as I wasn’t the same woman after becoming a mother, an author, or a survivor. Every season has shaped me into someone new. And perhaps that’s what new beginnings really are—not forgetting where we’ve been, but faithfully stepping into who God is calling us to be today. If this season has changed you too, don’t spend all your energy trying to become the person you were before. There is beauty, purpose, and hope waiting in the person you are becoming. Sometimes the greatest new beginning is simply giving yourself permission to begin again as you are.


A New Beginning Reading Journey


     If today has you reflecting on fresh starts, I encourage you to spend a little time with these passages over the coming days:


  • Isaiah 43:19“Behold, I am doing a new thing.”
  • Psalm 138:8“The Lord will perfect that which concerneth me…” A reminder that God is still completing His work in us, even when life has taken unexpected turns.
  • Lamentations 3:22–23 — His mercies are new every morning.
  • Philippians 3:13–14 — Releasing what is behind and pressing toward what is ahead.
  • 2 Corinthians 5:17 — We are a new creation in Christ.
  • Romans 8 — A chapter filled with hope, purpose, and the assurance that God is working through every season of our lives.


     As I embrace this new season, I’m learning that beginning again isn’t about becoming who I used to be. It’s about trusting God to continue the beautiful work He has already begun. I may not recognize every step of the journey, but I trust the One who is directing it. The same God who carried me through yesterday is faithfully preparing me for tomorrow, and He is doing the same for you.



Today, It’s Working Together for Good - 8/28

  It is August 28th, and I find myself thinking about the scripture that has anchored me through so many seasons: Romans 8:28. And we know t...