INTRO — What We Forget About Heartbreak
Some of the greatest commissions in life don’t come wrapped in clarity, certainty, or celebration.
They come wrapped in ache.
In rooms where dreams have collapsed.
On couches where tears fall quietly.
In the silence after someone you trusted walked away without looking back.
Heartbreak is one of the few places where both humanity and divinity meet—
where grief becomes a classroom,
and pain becomes a doorway.
And sometimes, the holiest thing you can do
is sit beside someone in their ashes
and say,
“I’ve been here too.”
THE STORY — The Couch, the Crown, and the Commission
An excerpt from BOOK 3
For Such A Time As This: Appointed To Rise
The Couch, the Crown, and the Commission
She sat on my couch, tears quietly streaming down her cheeks. Her voice broke as she whispered, “What if I never have love?”
She was exhausted—carrying the weight of a broken heart. She had given everything to that relationship: her heart, her mind, her energy, her time, even her finances. She poured into it fully—but none of it was reciprocated. And when it ended, he didn’t just walk away. He left a hole—one carved deep into her heart and her bank account.
There she was… sitting in the ashes. Staring at the remnants of what was.
And I knew that place.
Oh, how I knew that place.
I didn’t offer her a quick fix or a shallow pep talk. I simply offered what I had—my story. My scars. My journey through that very same fire.
There are no shortcuts through grief. No magic formula for rebuilding what’s been broken. Healing is a step-by-step process—a refining, a remaking. And it’s rarely comfortable.
But here’s what I’ve learned. Here’s what I know for sure:
If you choose to shift your focus from what you lost—and instead pour your energy into helping others—you will begin to heal.
You’ll gain perspective.
You’ll remember you’re not alone.
You may not be where you want to be. But you are not where you used to be. And you are still here—breathing, standing, becoming. That in itself is a gift.
When we take the pain and use it as fuel to build something greater—when we give instead of grasp—we grow.
We get wiser. Stronger.
We begin to see the patterns, the warning signs.
We learn to protect our peace.
We stop investing in people who don’t value us.
We stop pouring our worth into the hands of those who can’t carry it.
The healing comes not from finding the perfect person to fill the void—but from finding our passion, our purpose, our place to pour love where it can bloom.
And as the Bible says—it truly is better to give than to receive.
So give.
Give your love to the hurting.
Give your story to the broken.
Give your strength to the ones still crawling out of the rubble.
Be the queen of the reframe.
Straighten that crown.
Choose to become anyway.
You were placed here—for such a time as this.
Let your pain become part of your purpose.
Let your scars tell a story of strength.
Let this chapter—this heartbreak—become the soil where something beautiful takes root.
You were not abandoned.
You were appointed to rise.
REFLECTION — The Crown You Forget You’re Wearing
Heartbreak does not make you less.
It does not reduce your worth, your calling, or your future.
It simply reveals what you forgot:
Your crown was never handed to you by another human.
It was placed on you by God.
A crown placed by God cannot be removed by someone who walked away.
Pain may bend you,
but it does not un-royal you.
And heartbreak—though it feels like the end—
is often the moment heaven begins reshaping you for what’s next.
Because heartbreak clears the room of the wrong voices
so you can finally hear the right One again.
APPLICATION — Your Pain Has a Commission Attached
If you’ve ever been left with a broken heart and an empty bank account…
If you’ve cried on your couch, wondering if love will ever find you again…
If you’ve questioned your value, your future, or your strength…
Hear this:
You are not behind.
You are not forgotten.
You are not unlovable.
You are not alone.
You are in the middle of a holy rebuild.
A sacred reshaping.
A divine recalibration.
And your purpose did not pause when your relationship ended.
Your calling didn’t dissolve in the heartbreak.
Your worth didn’t walk out the door with him.
You are still appointed.
Still anointed.
Still becoming.
And sometimes the most healing thing you can do
is take your pain
and let God turn it into purpose.
Pour strength into someone else.
Pour love into someone who’s hurting.
Pour compassion into someone who thinks they’re alone.
When you give from your healing place,
you rebuild from the inside out.
JOURNAL OR COMMENT QUESTIONS
1️⃣ Where has heartbreak tried to silence your purpose?
2️⃣ What part of your story could be someone else’s survival guide?
3️⃣ What have you learned about your worth that you didn’t know before the pain?
Straighten Your Crown
So straighten your crown,
even if your hands tremble.
Rise from the ashes,
even if the ground still shakes beneath you.
Let your scars breathe—
for they are the sacred proof that you lived,
you tried,
you loved deeply,
and you survived.
Let this chapter—this heartbreak—
become the soil where something holy grows.
Because nothing about you is wasted.
Nothing about your journey disqualifies you.
And nothing about your pain removes your purpose.
DECLARATION — Appointed to Rise
You were placed here for such a time as this.
Appointed to rise.
Anointed to rebuild.
Becoming anyway.
Your crown is still on your head.
Your story is not finished.
Your rise has already begun.