THE FIRST ENTRY

I didn’t plan on this being my first blog entry. If I’m honest, I didn’t plan on having a blog at all. I’m a songwriter. My natural habitat is melody, not monologues. But here we are. Apparently God is still in the business of nudging me into things I didn’t expect.

So, welcome. This is the part of the website where the “extra bits” get to live. The half-formed thoughts. The stories behind the songs. The moments I wish I could tell you over coffee but can’t, because apparently time zones exist and I can’t be in Nashville and Norway at the same time. One day, maybe.

Since this is the first entry, I thought I’d start with what has shaped a lot of my last few years: one little phrase from God that completely rearranged me.

Custom Made.

I didn’t get it in a cloud of glitter or an angelic choir. I was in worship, doing what I do when I run out of adjectives... singing things I believed but that day was harder. And I asked God the kind of question you only ask when you’re slightly desperate but still trying to sound holy:

“Lord, I trust You… but what exactly are You doing?”

He gave me a picture. A furniture warehouse. Beautiful pieces everywhere. And He put a gift card in my hand... the holy kind that doesn’t have a spending limit and said, “You can pick anything you want.”

You would think that would make it easier. It didn’t.

I walked aisle after aisle, and every time I thought, Oh, that one, my peace would fall out of me like loose change from a bad handbag. Some pieces were gorgeous. Some made perfect sense. Some I actually liked. And every single time, God smiled and said, Keep looking. That’s not your piece.

By the time I walked back to Him, I was a dramatic mix of frustrated and surrendered. I handed Him the card and said, “I can’t do this without You. If You don’t pick with me, I don’t want this at all.”

He pulled me close and said the sentence that became the anchor of my next season:

“If you want Me to pick with you, I will custom make it.”

And then... because God is honest... He added, “Custom pieces take longer.”

Great. Love that for me.

But I said yes. I walked out of worship with that phrase stitched on the inside of my heart. And I lived differently because of it. Not chasing. Not auditioning for anyone’s attention. Not panicking about timelines. Just… making room. Preparing like the promise was real even when nothing looked different at all.

Some days that faith looked pretty. Other days it looked like me marching around the mailroom of my apartment at 1 a.m. like a budget Jericho reenactment. There were dreams, teal paint chips, words from friends, and moments with God that made no sense until they suddenly did.

Pieces of evidence. Little threads.

And somewhere along the way, without fanfare or a burning bush, I realised the point wasn’t the husband or the promise. It was learning how to walk with God when nothing is happening. How to trust Him when the timeline is taunting you. How to stay tender, not cynical.

Expectant, not obsessive. Brave, even when you feel ridiculous.

That’s the real story. That’s the part I want to tell.

Because maybe you’re not believing for marriage. Maybe you’re believing for healing. Or a prodigal to come home. Or a door to open that has been bolted shut for years. Whatever it is... I hope this space becomes a kind of evidence box for you, too. Something that reminds you God is still speaking, still orchestrating, still custom making things that fit your life better than you could design yourself.

More soon. And yes, some stories will be funny. Some will be painful. Some will be things I learned the hard way so maybe you don’t have to. But all of them will be honest.

Because that’s the only way I know how to tell a beautiful story.

— Mia