Tiffany Johnson

You’d think I found God in a church pew, hands lifted, surrounded by worship music and warm smiles.

All my life, I lived under a lie; I wasn’t enough. Not good enough to be loved. Not smart enough to succeed. Not holy enough for God. That lie? It echoed in my head louder than any truth. It came wrapped in the silence of my childhood home, in the absence of affection, in the

I used to think “redemption” was only for sermons, big, holy words that sounded good on Sundays, clean and out of reach for me. Growing up, I mostly knew words like shame, survival, struggle, and silence. Redemption seemed reserved for perfect people, the churchgoers without a past like mine. But life shattered that illusion, revealing

There was a time when I thought I had to chase God. Run faster. Pray louder. Read more. Do better. But somewhere along my healing journey, I realized something different: God wasn’t asking me to chase Him. He was asking me to make room for Him. To hold space. To slow down. To be still.