Over a year ago, a sister in Christ—a PhD, a Bible professor at a Christian college, someone I trusted—turned on me. Not quietly, not passively. Deliberately, and without just cause. The fallout was real and sharp-edged. Thanksgiving spent in confinement with a psychopathic roommate. Friendships evaporated. Some family ties went cold. Ministry doors I’d prayed over for years slammed shut. Opportunities disappeared without explanation. It was one of those seasons where you keep replaying conversations at 2 a.m., wondering how things unraveled so quickly.

I won’t pretend I understand why God allowed it to unfold that way. I still don’t. There are blanks He hasn’t filled in, and maybe never will on this side of glory. But here’s the thing: time passed, wounds scarred over, and life kept moving, even when it felt lopsided.

And now, more than a year later, someone deeply important to me from that chapter of my life reached out again. Quietly. Unexpectedly. Right here on Substack, of all places. No drama. No grand speech. Just a reconnection I never saw coming, and didn't expect.

God’s timing is strange like that. Slower than we want. Smarter than we are. He’s in the details we miss, the long arcs we can’t trace. He sees what was done in the dark. And somehow—still, stubbornly—He remains good. All the time.