My Peace Is My Proof
The Week I Realized I Made It
(Weekly Reflection — November 25)
This week didn’t come quiet.
It didn’t come easy either.
It arrived with the weight of everything I’ve survived… and the grace of everything God brought me into.
Sometimes healing doesn’t announce itself.
It just shows up in moments —
small ones, ordinary ones —
and suddenly you realize you’re not who you used to be.
I sat with my book in my hands,
the physical proof,
the thing I cried over, prayed over, wrestled with.
And I didn’t feel the pain anymore.
I felt purpose.
I felt God’s fingerprint on a story that tried to break me —
and failed.
There’s a moment in every healing journey
when the wound stops talking
and the wisdom begins to speak.
And that’s where I am.
Not perfect.
Not finished.
But whole enough to tell the truth with clarity
and carry it with honor.
I don’t know what you’re facing.
I don’t know what tried to silence you.
But I do know this:
what was meant to destroy you
will one day sit in your hands as a testimony.
This week, I didn’t just publish a book.
I stepped into a version of myself I’ve prayed about for years.
Quietly.
Softly.
On God’s timing.
And I’m learning that sometimes the biggest breakthrough
doesn’t look like loud celebration.
It looks like peace.
My peace is my proof.
Le’Yonce
© L’Tanya ArhemaWord Publishing, LLC. All rights reserved.
