Our home from the front door to the back, from downstairs to upstairs, from the north walls to the south walls, and throughout every room tells people who I am and the things I value most. My husband lets me design and create, so it’s full of flowers, mostly my favorite red roses. It is nice being surrounded by such beauty, but I try not to overwhelm my man with too many flowers. Each room is full of color, with basic tan throughout the home.  I have one wall in my office that is dedicated to our children.

In the closing pages of my devotional journal Pray Differently: Praying with Precision to Ignite God’s Power, I included a quiet bonus section titled His Space. It was an invitation, a gentle nudge toward creating a place dedicated solely for you and the Father to dwell. Not ornate. Not expansive. Simply intentional. Sacred because He meets you there.

What I did not fully explain in those pages is that His Space was born from necessity. From days when life felt heavy and unbearable. From evenings when I returned home carrying the invisible weight of expectations, disappointments, and emotions I could no longer hold upright. I needed somewhere to go.