Why this journal exists
It started at a red light.
A chaotic morning. Kids late for school. Coffee on my shirt, and a weight on my chest I couldn't name. I stopped at a red light and whispered, "Lord, I need to know You see me."
The car in front of me had a license plate that read: ITS OK.
Two words on a stranger's bumper — thirty seconds after I asked. I sat at that light with tears running down my face.
That moment changed how I listen. Because God had probably been speaking all along — through numbers I kept seeing, dreams I shrugged off, doves that appeared at the exact right moment, sermons that answered questions I hadn't voiced aloud. I just wasn't keeping track.
Talk To Me Lord was created so you never have to tell God you didn't notice. One year. Every sign, every dream, every prayer, every answer — written down, in one sacred place.
