08/22/2026
I’ve learned that life is a lot like an elevator.
You get on with a destination in mind, but you don’t always know how many floors you’ll have to stop on before you get there.
And baby… I’ve stopped on some floors.
There were floors where I thought, “This has to be it. This must be where God is taking me.” I got comfortable. I unpacked. I built relationships. I made plans. I attached myself to people and places because I thought that floor was my final destination.
Then the doors opened again.
Some floors held heartbreak.
Some held loss.
Some held survival.
Some held motherhood and sacrifice.
Some held starting over with almost nothing.
Some held rejection, disappointment, grief, betrayal, and questions I still don’t have answers to.
And some floors were beautiful, but God still wouldn’t let me stay there.
That part taught me something.
Just because a floor is good doesn’t mean it’s your floor.
Sometimes God will allow you to experience a level just long enough to learn what you need, meet who you need, heal what you need, or discover something about yourself, and then He’ll tell you it’s time to get back on the elevator.
I used to think every closed door meant I had failed.
Now I understand some doors had to close because the elevator couldn’t move while I was still standing in the doorway.
Whew.
I had to stop begging people to ride with me who were only assigned to one floor.
I had to stop trying to reopen doors God had already closed.
I had to stop measuring my progress by somebody else’s floor number.
And most importantly, I had to learn how to get off when God said get off, and get back on when He said we’re not finished yet.
Today, when I look at everything I’m building, I don’t just see business.
I see testimony.
I see the woman who kept pressing the button.
The woman who cried between floors.
The woman who had to rebuild while raising children, carrying responsibilities, grieving people she loved, navigating disappointment, and still finding enough faith to believe there was another level.
I see every version of me that could have gotten off and stayed down.
But she didn’t.
So no, I haven’t arrived.
There are still floors I haven’t seen yet.
There are still doors God hasn’t opened yet.
There are still rooms with my name on them that I haven’t walked into.
But one thing about me?
I’m staying on the elevator.
And when the doors open on the next floor, I’m walking out as the woman every previous floor prepared me to become.
Not bitter.
Not defeated.
Not ashamed of where I’ve been.
Just wiser. Stronger. Softer. More discerning. More grateful.
Because sometimes the testimony isn’t that God took you straight to the top.
The testimony is that He kept you through every floor it took to get there.
⬆️ Going up.
