My roots are in West Philadelphia, but my journey of following Christ has carried me through Houston and Dallas—through seasons of adversity, profound uncertainty, and unexpected provision. Along the way, I have learned that transformation often begins when we surrender our assumptions about how life is supposed to unfold.

When I believed God was calling me to Dallas, I used the remainder of my unemployment funds to purchase a Southwest flight to Love Field. I arrived without accommodations or a clear plan for what would come next. For nearly forty-eight hours, I remained in the airport, praying and waiting. When an operations manager informed me that I would have to leave that evening, I had approximately three dollars remaining on my card.

I boarded a complimentary bus to a train station. As I stood considering the stairs ahead of me, a stranger approached and offered me a transit pass. I began to weep. What might have appeared to be a small act of kindness became, for me, a deeply personal assurance of God's provision. I did not have every answer, but in that moment, I felt seen and remembered.

I spent nine months in a Dallas shelter. During the first two months, I slept on a cafeteria floor designated for overflow accommodations, rising at 4:45 each morning to seek a place for the following night. Those circumstances confronted my pride and reshaped my understanding of humility. My education and accomplishments could not exempt me from vulnerability, and accepting assistance did not diminish my dignity.

Eventually, I received a regular sleeping mat and a locker. Having a secure place for my belongings allowed me to accept my friend KK's invitation to church. At the Church of Christ at Cedar Valley in Lancaster, Texas, the congregation's unaccompanied singing moved me profoundly. Their voices rose together in a harmony that reminded me of what I imagined heaven might sound like.

The congregation welcomed me with compassion and a sense of belonging. At forty-eight, I chose to be baptized again, marking a meaningful renewal of my commitment to Christ. I remain deeply grateful for the shelter, support, and community I received in Dallas. Those experiences continue to inspire my desire to serve people facing homelessness.

Through Jill's Notebook Ministry and my book, 10 Signs You're Outgrowing the Old Version of Yourself, I share the lessons that emerged from these seasons: perseverance through adversity, discernment in uncertainty, humility in receiving help, and the courage to begin again. My testimony is not a declaration that I have mastered every lesson. It is an invitation to recognize growth while the journey is still unfolding.

My story is still being written. This is Jill's Notebook—where faith meets real life.