It’s been a while since I shared something from my journals. When I introduced this segment back in 2023, I noted that my Journal Entries are what I call Sacred Practices. Some of them feel like conversations with God. They range from experiences and subsequent reflections all the way to poems. The way I sometimes get insights and answers to questions without much thought, as if the pen just does what it wants as I flow with it, makes me feel like a Higher Being takes over. I often sit in awe when I finish journaling because sometimes the realizations I get blow my mind.

I should note, before continuing, that whether or not you believe in God or that God speaks directly to us, is not the point of this post. I’m simply sharing an intimate conversation I recently had in my journal. Bear with me, if you will, until the end of this entry with an open mind. Thank you for your open-mindedness.

Okay, about the entry: Feeling messy when I looked at my journal entries of the past few months and how much things have changed, I wrote some of my concerns about these rapid changes.

I received some insights, assurance and guidance in response to my concerns that I want to share with you as well. There is much I write in those journals that’s only for my eyes to see, but after sitting with this journal entry for a few days (and follow-up entries that reinforced it), I want to now share what initially came through when I laid it all down because I know I’m not the only one going through rapid changes and exponential growth that asks for more change. We go through these changes sometimes faster than we thought we would.

With this in mind, I’m sharing parts of a journal entry of earlier this week:

1 July 2025

… There is so much I can’t say with certainty—and that feels messy. I’ve seen how I can pivot and change my mind—so sometimes it can feel messy. I’m still finding balance. I’m still learning. I’m still unlearning. I’m still creating structures… And that can feel messy.

“Construction work is messy,” I hear. “But if you follow the plan, something beautiful and worth your while will come out of it.”

As I sipped my coffee, I caught myself wondering what’s the plan.

“Expansion,” I hear. “To expand into something you don’t know yet. To become who you’re meant to be.”

The conversation continued into something beautiful. I want to note the most relevant points that I believe can overlap with your own experiences.

God was telling me how much I’ve grown and how long I’ve been doing construction work. Using vivid language, I was told that conscious construction work happens in three main phases:

The first one is the big, painful, brutal phase: deconstruction/demolition. That’s the part where your whole foundation cracks open; where you start questioning everything and your entire identity crashes in your face.

After that initial phase, the second phase is about building new foundations from scratch. A foundation “that can hold your expansion—that can hold wings that your old structure couldn’t.”

The third phase is the building. This is where I’m at.

The thing about building is that it’s not nearly as messy as the first phases. I was reminded that “in the process itself you don’t feel the messiness. In your day to day you’re simply learning new ways.”

Indeed, my day to day is not what I would consider “messy” or brutal whatsoever. If anything, I have a peaceful, joyful life with some ups and downs but all in all, I’m immensely grateful for the life I now live. But, as I was told, “when you take a step back and look at your becoming from afar—through your own day to day logs—it can feel messy.” And that’s exactly how it feels!

When I look back, I see so many changes that I can sometimes barely recognize myself. Sometimes I can barely keep up with myself. And that makes me sometimes insecure, because I can’t say with certainty how life will unfold. I can’t say how my becoming will unfold. And I can’t speak in absolutes about how my days will look in some time from now. All I can do is place the next brick, so to speak. All I can do is show up and keep showing up.

Here’s where things got beautifully interesting: as we were reaching the end of that conversation, God told me that,

“You don’t need to know how your becoming will look like in its final form… But I can tell you this much: I am building a cathedral. A Holy Space of your being. A walking Sanctuary of your person. You do your part and show up—and do the work.

For I see it all. And what I see is beautiful. I know it all—and what you are is precious. Keep going.”

I go back to something I mentioned earlier: Whether or not you believe in God or that God speaks directly to us, is not the point of this post.

The essence of this post and the reason why I shared such intimate conversations I have with God (for that’s the name I use for this Higher Being) is that wherever this information comes from, it’s from a source of compassion. A source of empathy. A source of wisdom. A source of encouragement. A source of kindness. A source of love.

It’s a voice of reason when I get turbulent, reminding me to be kind to myself. It’s kindness when I’m hard on myself. It’s understanding when I can’t comprehend. It’s love when I lack it.

And whether we want to call it God or something else, I know that this source of wisdom, love, grace is available to us if we believe in it. I’d rather believe in words that empower my psyche than their opposite.

Specifically for the purposes of that journal entry, God not only told me earlier this week that construction work is messy, but also explained why and finished our conversation for that day with a beautiful encouragement.

So to finish, let this be our takeaway:

Lastly, let’s just take it one day at a time with our progress as we let go of our need to control how things will take their final form. Trust ourselves and our ability as we trust in the outcome and the sum of our efforts. Even as the changes that show progress may feel messy, they lead to something. Trust that.

With love,
Jun 🧡