Faith Over Chaos

To list every tragedy, trial, and trauma I’ve faced would be overwhelming—and frankly, exhausting. I’ve lived through more hospital visits, emergency calls, and ICU bedside vigils than I ever signed up for. At one point, my youngest son—after being shot in the head and lying in a trauma bed—looked at the doctors and said, “My mom gives birth to cats.” Translation: my kids must have nine lives, because somehow, they keep surviving what should have taken them out.

Looking back, I see what a strange and beautiful blessing those words were. They remind me of the abundant amount of grace and mercy God has extended to me and my family—again and again. As Lamentations 3:22–23 (ESV) declares, “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” That verse isn’t just poetic—it’s personal. I’ve lived it. Sometimes in pajamas. Sometimes in hospital scrubs. Always in need of mercy.

That moment—odd as it was—captured the weight of years spent navigating medical mysteries with my daughter, trauma airlifts after a car accident, and the heartbreak of brain injury caused by addiction and a contaminated needle. It brought into focus the choices I made—some that helped my children walk with God, and others that missed the mark entirely (cue the spiritual facepalm).

But instead of dragging you through every painful chapter, I want to share what those seasons taught me: through the missteps I made, and by God’s grace, the moments I got it right. As Romans 8:28 (NIV) reminds us, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” Even in the mess, He was weaving mercy. Even in the fire, He was forming faith. Even when I was asking, “Are You sure You picked the right girl for this?”

What I Learned in the Fire

Eden Thinking didn’t come naturally in my panic—it was refined in the flames. Peace didn’t come naturally in the chaos; grasping for control did. It’s my spiritual reflex. But God, in His mercy, taught me to reach for Him instead. Eden Thinking is not another control tactic—it’s a return to design. And let me tell you, I didn’t arrive there gracefully. I arrived dragging a suitcase full of trauma and a coffee-stained Bible. Well maybe just a colorful one as I love bible journaling, but that’s for another post.

Here’s what rose from those ashes:

Remember Our Original Design

In Eden, intimacy with God wasn’t a rare moment—it was our rhythm. “They heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day” (Genesis 3:8, ESV). That was normal. That was daily. We were created to walk with Him—not just in peace but also in panic.

I didn’t immediately think of peace when the trauma nurse called. You’d think they had me on speed dial by now. My first thoughts were, “Why me? Why them?”—any “why” would do. Deep down, I knew there wasn’t a clean answer. Sometimes the pain draws us closer to Him. Sometimes it’s part of His design to further His kingdom. And sometimes, it’s the consequence of choices made—ours or someone else’s. Either way, Eden Thinking became my faith-over-chaos answer.

Even David, in his anguish, knew this truth: “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18, NIV). Eden Thinking reminds us that our original design is not independence, but intimacy. And let’s be honest—some days, intimacy looks like crying in the car and whispering, “Help.”

How to Return to Eden (Without a Map)

We start small. Intimacy with God isn’t built in grand gestures—it’s nurtured in quiet moments. Here are a few ways I’ve learned to walk with Him again (no perfection required):

• Walk and talk with Him: Take a walk and speak to God aloud, just like Adam did. No script needed—just honesty. Bonus points if you don’t scare your neighbors.

• Linger in the Word: Don’t rush through Scripture like it’s a grocery list. Sit with a single verse. Ask, “Lord, what do You want me to see here?”

• Worship in the ordinary: Turn on worship music while folding laundry or driving. Let praise become your atmosphere. (Just don’t close your eyes while driving. That’s not faith—it’s a hazard.)

• Practice stillness: Set a timer for five minutes. Sit in silence and simply say, “I’m here, Lord.” Let Him fill the space. No need to perform.

• Write to Him: Journal your prayers, questions, and gratitude. Treat it like a letter to your Father—because it is. And He actually reads it.

These aren’t tasks—they’re invitations. Eden Thinking means choosing connection over control, presence over performance. It’s not about doing more—it’s about being with Him more. Even if you’re wearing mismatched socks and haven’t showered in two days.

When the Storm Hits

So, if you’re standing in the middle of your own storm—confused, exhausted, maybe even asking “Why me?”—know this: Eden Thinking isn’t reserved for the healed and whole. It’s for the brokenhearted, the weary, the ones who’ve been through fire and still choose to walk with God in the cool of the day.

You don’t have to have all the answers. You don’t have to feel strong. You just have to come. Because Eden thinking isn’t about perfection—it was about presence. And the same God who walked with Adam walks with you now.

This is Eden Thinking. This is faith over chaos.

Helping you find peace in the garden again—even if you’re dragging a few weeds with you.

Let’s Reflect (aka: Soul Weeding Time)

• When the storm hits, do I reach for God—or for control, caffeine, and a color-coded plan?

• What weeds (fear, shame, performance, perfectionism) am I dragging into the garden with me?

• Where have I seen mercy show up in the middle of my mess—even if I was wearing pajamas and asking “Seriously, Lord?”

• What does walking with God in the cool of the day look like in my real life? (Bonus points if it involves mismatched socks and a worship playlist.)

• Have I been trying to return to Eden with a map—or am I willing to trust the Guide?

• What small invitation is God offering me today: stillness, honesty, worship, or just showing up?