Tag Archives: Faith

May 8, 2026 · 4:00 AM

A Daughter’s Reflection

Mama:

She wasn’t the kind of woman people called strong.

She didn’t command a room or always make the wisest choices. She didn’t have the steady confidence I sometimes envied in other mothers.

My mama was flawed in ways that showed. Tender in places where life had been anything but gentle. And somehow, without either of us planning it, I became the strong one.

I stepped into that role way too young, long before I knew what it meant. A role never meant for a daughter, let alone a child. I became her steady ground. Her confidant. Her shield. And slowly, quietly, I started mothering my own mama.

I learned to read her eyes and knew when she was hurt or afraid. I carried feelings too heavy for a child to hold. I filled in gaps I didn’t even have words for yet. My childhood ended before it really got started.

And yet, it shaped me. It made me responsible. Watchful. Tougher than I wanted to be. But it also left me tired in ways I wouldn’t understand until years later.

Still … she was my mama. And I loved her. We all did.

Love doesn’t always grow where it’s supposed to. Sometimes it pushes through the hardest places and blooms anyway. Because God knows how to make something beautiful out of what’s been broken. Mama may not have modeled the kind of strength others admire. But she gave me something deeper without meaning to: space to find my own strength. I learned to recognize fragility up close. A kind of empathy I had to discover on my own. And grit, because someone had to hold the line. And when mine ran out, I learned to lean on God.

Loving a parent who couldn’t fully be there for you is a tender, kind of tangled ache. It isn’t resentment or blame. It’s a quiet knowing. I always knew she loved me, and she knew I loved her. And I believe she did the best she could with what she had. Even if what she had fell short. What she couldn’t give, God supplied. He filled the gaps with His grace, His presence, and the way He kept showing up for me.

Mama had six of us. She was ours—flawed, fragile, human, and deeply loved. She wasn’t perfect, and neither was I. But we were perfect for each other.

Missing her today reminds me that even fragile love can grow into something good in God’s hands. What she couldn’t give, God provided. It didn’t happen overnight. In the places that felt unfinished, God planted healing, resilience, and a deeper faith. I wouldn’t know this kind of faith without that journey.

It may not be everyone’s story. But it’s mine. And it shaped me.

If you’re missing someone complicated and imperfect today, I hope you feel seen. Love doesn’t have to be flawless to shape us.

I’m missing my mama today.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mama. I’m still here because of you—

carrying the grit you placed in me,

held by God’s grace,

with a heart full of memories.

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April 25, 2026 · 10:24 AM

When God Says No

There was a season in my life where I kept praying for the same thing.

I thought if I just kept praying, if I kept believing, God would fix it.

I believed He would change the situation.
That things would turn around.

I didn’t understand why; out of everything, why not this?

From where I stood, it made sense.
It didn’t feel wrong.
It felt good… worth fighting for.

People say in moments like that, maybe you didn’t have enough faith!

But I know what I carried.
I know how deeply I believed.

What I didn’t know then
was how much I was asking God to sustain something
that was quietly undoing me.

I couldn’t see how tightly I was holding on
to something already causing harm.

All I felt was silence.

But it wasn’t silence.

God was still working,
just not in the way I wanted or expected.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. — Isaiah 55:8

He had something better.
I couldn’t see it yet.

There are things I once cried over
that I’m now grateful didn’t happen.

That’s not easy to admit.

Because those prayers were real.
I meant every word.

But now I understand.

Some things aren’t meant to be fixed.
Some things are meant to end.
Some things are meant to change us.

Sometimes God says no
because He sees what we don’t.

We hold onto things
He’s trying to release us from.

And when the answer doesn’t come the way we hoped,
it can feel like absence, like distance,
like He isn’t there at all.

But He is.
He always is.

If you’re there right now—
still praying, still waiting, still wondering …

I understand.

I’ve been there.

And one day, with time and clarity,
you may see what once felt like silence
for what it truly was:

Not rejection.
But protection.

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April 14, 2026 · 4:09 AM

Reflections From My Heart

From my heart to yours:

For more than ten years, I’ve been pouring out pieces of my life right here. Some posts came from deep pain, others from quiet gratitude or hard-won lessons. To my humble surprise, a few of them have kept drawing readers year after year, long after I first hit “publish.”

These are the posts that have touched the most hearts over time. They talk about real struggles—loss, brokenness, family wounds, verbal abuse, and the battles we fight inside—but they also point to the hope and healing that only God’s grace can bring. Many of them echo the same journey I share in my memoir, Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace.

If you’re walking through a hard season and feeling unseen or hopeless, I pray one of these reflections meets you right where you are and reminds you that you are not alone.

Here are my Top 12 Most-Viewed Posts

  1. I’ll Never Forget 9/11: A personal reflection on that heartbreaking day and how it still echoes in our lives.
  2. About Me: My story, where I came from, the struggles I faced, and how God can transform despair into hope. This page alone has welcomed over 80 heartfelt comments from readers who shared their own journeys.
  3. The Battle Within: The struggle didn’t disappear, but through God’s grace, I learned I no longer have to fight it alone.
  4. Beauty For Ashes: An honest wrestling with the idea of beauty in the middle of real-life devastation.
  5. Verbal Abuse: I wrote this from a place I know all too well—the silent pain of feeling broken, invisible, and trapped. But it’s also a reminder that we are not meant to stay there.
  6. I Dreamed a Dream: I’ve walked through seasons where the dreams I once held began to fade, pushed aside by life, responsibilities, and discouraging words. But I’ve come to see that what feels like the end may not be the end at all… just the beginning of a new dream.
  7. This Thing Called Tears: Tears don’t only come in sorrow; they show up in joy, frustration, and even gratitude. In these everyday moments, I’m reminded that God meets us in every emotion, and every tear has a purpose.
  8. Damaged Goods: I once believed the lies that I was broken, unworthy, and beyond repair. But I’ve learned that we are not defined by what we’ve been through. God doesn’t see damaged goods… He sees something worth restoring.
  9. Stick-to-Itiveness: Persistence isn’t easy—but it’s powerful!
  10. Ode to a Mother’s Heart – Part II: A mother’s love & the unimaginable pain of losing a child. My heart grieves with those who carry this kind of sorrow, and I lift them up in prayer.
  11. The Shadow of My Baby Sister’s Death: Love, loss, longing… and the ache of what could have been.
  12. Shark Bait: This is my dear husband’s story, and a reminder of how faithful God is, even in the most unexpected moments.

Each story carries a piece of my heart. Some made me cry as I wrote them. Others reminded me of God’s faithfulness even when life felt unbearable. Readers have told me they saw parts of their own stories in these words, and that blesses me more than I can say. I’m continually humbled by how far these stories are traveling.

WordPress recently shared that this blog has now reached readers in 174 countries, the newest being Gabon. That’s something only God could do, and I don’t take a single reader for granted.

If these reflections speak to you, I believe you’ll find even deeper encouragement in the pages of Running in Heels. It’s the fuller story behind so many of these posts—the raw truth of growing up in pain, surviving abuse and abandonment, and learning to walk in grit and grace. The book is available on Amazon in paperback, hardcover, Kindle, and audiobook. And I’m thrilled that a Spanish edition, Corriendo en Tacones, Memorias de valentía y gracia, is on the way for my Latino friends and family.

We’re prayerfully hoping to reach 500 honest reviews on Amazon so this message can reach more women who feel broken or stuck. If any of these posts (or the book) touches your heart, I would be so grateful if you’d take a moment to leave a review.

Thank you for stopping by and for being part of this journey with me. Whether you’ve been reading for years or this is your first time here, my prayer is that I lift you up with love and faith.

From my heart to yours, Mary A. Pérez, Author of Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace, Houston, Texas 2026

Curved stone pathway through lush garden with sunrise in background
A colorful stepping stone path winds through a vibrant garden at sunrise.

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April 3, 2026 · 3:11 AM

It’s Friday, but Sunday’s Coming!

Full Transcript:

It’s Friday.
Jesus is praying.
Peter’s a sleeping.
Judas is betraying.
But Sunday’s comin’.

It’s Friday.
Pilate’s struggling.
The council is conspiring.
The crowd is vilifying.
They don’t even know
That Sunday’s comin’.

It’s Friday.
The disciples are running
Like sheep without a shepherd.
Mary’s crying.
Peter is denying.
But they don’t know
That Sunday’s a comin’.

It’s Friday.
The Romans beat my Jesus.
They robe Him in scarlet.
They crown Him with thorns.
But they don’t know
That Sunday’s comin’.

It’s Friday.
See Jesus walking to Calvary.
His blood dripping.
His body stumbling.
And His spirit’s burdened.
But you see, it’s only Friday…
Sunday’s comin’.

It’s Friday.
The world’s winning.
People are sinning.
And evil’s grinning.

It’s Friday.
The soldiers nail my Savior’s hands
To the cross.
They nail my Savior’s feet
To the cross.
And then they raise Him up
Next to criminals.

It’s Friday.
But let me tell you something—
Sunday’s comin’.

It’s Friday.
The disciples are questioning,
“What has happened to their King?”
And the Pharisees are celebrating
That their scheming
Has been achieved.
But they don’t know—
It’s only Friday.
Sunday’s comin’.

It’s Friday.
He’s hanging on the cross.
Feeling forsaken by His Father.
Left alone and dying.
Can nobody save Him?
Ooooh…
It’s Friday.
But Sunday’s comin’.

It’s Friday.
The earth trembles.
The sky grows dark.
My King yields His spirit.

It’s Friday.
Hope is lost.
Death has won.
Sin has conquered.
And Satan’s just a laughin’.

It’s Friday.
Jesus is buried.
A soldier stands guard.
And a rock is rolled into place.

But it’s Friday…
It is only Friday.
Sunday is a comin’!

Let’s remember:

  • Pain is temporary
  • Darkness doesn’t last
  • God always has the final word

So whatever you’re facing today—remember:

It’s Friday… but Sunday’s coming.

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February 14, 2026 · 7:10 AM

How Do I Love Thee

Dedicated to the one I love:

Love is a road. Sometimes smooth. Sometimes full of potholes. Sometimes, it’s like quicksand that wants to swallow you whole.

Looking at this photo of my husband and me, I don’t just see a moment. I see every step we’ve taken together. The long days. The late-night talks. The whispered prayers when we didn’t know what else to do. The mistakes we stumbled through, and the grace that carried us forward.

How Do I Love Thee? by Elizabeth Barrett Browning says it perfectly. Not the easy love. The steady, persistent love. The kind that stretches deep and holds firm when life tilts sideways.

Marriage has been our classroom. It’s taught me that love isn’t just a feeling; you don’t wait for it to show up. It’s a choice. Again. And again. It asks you to bend, to forgive, to hope, to trust. To keep showing up, even when you’re tired, even when your heart aches, even when the world feels heavy.

Faith has quietly guided us through it all. God has been the steady hand on the wheel. The compass was used when we couldn’t see the path. The shelter was where storms came. And because of Him, our love keeps growing, not perfect, not loud, but true.

Love like this doesn’t fade with time. It deepens. It matures. And by His grace, it continues to grow, day by day, breath by breath.

So today, on Valentine’s Day, I’m grateful. For him. For us. For the crooked roads and the smooth stretches. I am also thankful to God. He keeps showing us how to love deeper. He teaches us to love more widely and more deeply than we ever could on our own.

This is how I love thee. ❤️

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January 30, 2026 · 6:57 AM

Not That Girl Anymore

When she looks back on her life, she sees a faded memory. It is of a girl once unsure of herself. She was frightened, lost, and insecure. She can’t help but remember the pain: the disappointments, mistakes, and heartaches that shaped her early years.

The roads she’s traveled come back to her. Some paths felt like quicksand beneath her feet, dry like the Sahara. Potholes the size of Texas seemed impossible to navigate, threatened to swallow her whole.

She thinks of the battles she fought for her marriage, her sanity, and her four small children.

She remembers the struggles born of abandonment. These struggles began as a child, then recurred as an adult. She also recalls the failures and the weight of low self-esteem.

She reflects on the sacrifices she made. She walked away from her education. She faced the heartbreaking reality of letting go of a special-needs child for the child’s best interest. She also placed her own dreams on hold.

She remembers the love she lost. She said goodbye to her baby sister and her beloved grandparents. She also faced the end of a fifteen-year marriage.

She remembers the tears shed in lonely nights, the broken promises that stung, and the shame she carried.

But when she looks back, she also sees the lessons she’s learned.

She sees a girl, not clawing her way up. She is steady enough to stay afloat when life threatens to pull her under. Instead, she had just enough grit to stay afloat when life tried to pull her under. A girl who walked across pebbles, turning them into stepping stones toward higher ground. A girl whose childlike faith in God above blossomed into something far greater than herself. Though her earthly father was often absent, she came to know a Heavenly Father who never once left her side.

When she looks in the mirror, what does she see?

She sees a girl once dejected and rejected—but no longer that sad, little girl. So don’t pity her. Applaud her. It was in the dry seasons that she discovered an oasis. Rejoice with her, for it was in the darkness that she found a beacon of light. Admire her for rising above her crisis despite her circumstances.

She may have started in the valley, pecking along like a chicken searching for worms. But the Ancient of Days taught her to spread her wings like an eagle and soar above the mountaintops.

Don’t cry for her. Don’t grieve for her.

If you’re looking for a lost and lonely child, she is not here. Misunderstood she may be; a wonder to many she may be. If you’re searching for perfection, she is not that girl—she still has flaws. If you expect polished sophistication or profound eloquence, you may be disappointed.

Her past may try to dictate her future. The voices in her head may play a broken song. Her name may even mean “bitter.” But she refuses to be that girl anymore. She is no longer defined by fear or sorrow.

So what kind of girl is she?

A simple girl.
A grateful girl.
A blessed girl.

She believes in second chances and new beginnings.

She is stronger today because of all she has endured. Her scars remind her that she is a survivor. She finds beauty in living life one day at a time. She surrounds herself with those who encourage and genuinely care. She clothes herself in a garment of praise, standing in awe of the wonders of God’s grace.

When she looks in the mirror, what does she see?

She sees a girl turned woman.

And if wrinkles must be written upon her brow, she refuses to let them be written upon her heart.

She is more than a conqueror.

She sees strength. Learned lessons. Pride in herself.

Sad? Not anymore.
Alone? Never.
Afraid? She refuses.

A wallflower?

Not that girl anymore.

If you’ve ever felt broken, overlooked, or unsure of who you’re becoming, know this: you are not alone. Your story isn’t over yet. Mine wasn’t.

You can read the full story in Running In Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace

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January 10, 2026 · 9:27 AM

Becoming, Not Broken

Don’t give up on your dreams—God planted them.
Don’t give up on your goals—He is shaping them.
And don’t give up on yourself—God isn’t finished with you.

When the road is long, and strength feels thin, hold fast.
God sees the dream.
God orders the steps.
And God is still working in you.

A fresh start, a new chapter, and endless opportunities. Happy New Year!

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October 23, 2025 · 4:12 PM

“All of Business is About Relationships”

Some messages are meant to be heard. This one poured out of me, and I wanted to share it with you in my own voice. May it meet you where you are ~

As I journey along the way, I have come to realize that I need you. I learn, grow, and I am encouraged by you! You see, there was a period when I was hurting so much I didn’t have time for you. I was too wrapped up in my own little sad state of affairs to consider you. And why not? I was led to believe that I was insignificant, damaged goods, a toss-away. In my bleeding heart, what could I have contributed to you anyway? Why would anyone listen to anything I had to offer? Inside, I was frail, weak, and torn. I felt lonely. I was a mess!

But that was then. This is now: I thrive in hearing you say that I’ve helped you. I am comforted knowing I have made a difference. It could be through a deed—a spoken word, a smile, a written word, or a touch.

Thank you for allowing me to be me and for going on this incredible journey with me. You walked with me in my brokenness and pain. You rooted for me during my shame. You cheered for me because I emerged sane!

I have an endless hope, not a hopeless end!

My messes became my message. My life of peril turned into a life of promise. Through it all, I have gained an astonishing insight. I know that I’m somebody. I have a bright future. I have a purpose. I am needed and loved.

God hasn’t given up on you, so don’t you dare give up on Him. God loves you, and I do, too.

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“For in Him we live, and move, and have our being.”

Acts 17:28


If this message spoke to you, I’d love to hear from you. Leave a comment, share it with a friend, or let me know how you’re finding hope in your own journey. God bless!

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October 22, 2025 · 5:08 AM

The Shadows of My Baby Sister’s Death

I remember first holding you, so tiny in my arms.
Next thing I knew, you turned two, angelic and quite the charm.
Your silhouette dances in my dreams before my eyes,
Remembering your joy through my simple lullabies.

I imagine your eyes, your voice, your laughter,
Spending time together, nothing else mattered.
I thought about you often before crawling into bed at night.
I loved you deeply and never wanted you out of my sight.

I wish you could tell me what’s on your mind today.
What are the things you’re longing to say?
Would you have married a wonderful husband?
Lived in a castle and had many children?

Oh, if only I could see you now. I would run to you—
I would hold you and twirl you around.

Oh, sister, there will always be a hole in my heart,
But I guess somehow I knew that from the start.

If only I had you to talk to, share secrets with, laugh, and cry,
I would not be here thinking: why? Why did you have to die?

Excerpt, Chapter 2 of Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace

Soft, velvety cheeks. A round, rosy nose. Dark hair like mine, but curly. Eyes, blue that sparkled like the ocean I’d seen in storybooks. I kissed her sweet-smelling face. Her soft, pudgy hand with tiny fingers curled inside mine. Anna melted my heart. I won’t be alone anymore. I caressed her cheeks and whispered, “I’ll stay by your side for always.”

Soon left with the responsibility of caring for Anna, I became her substitute mother. I loved her and took care of her as best as a seven-year-old could.

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October 10, 2025 · 10:06 AM

Joyful Gathering at Bruno & George Winery

What a gorgeous, sunny day it was in Sour Lake Texas, a historic town in Hardin County, southwest of Beaumont! My recent book signing at Bruno & George Winery was a heartwarming success, filled with wonderment, meaningful conversations, and shared excitement. Stories were shared, books were sold, and my eldest daughter accompanied me showcasing her own talented artwork.

I wish to express my deepest thanks to everyone who came out. Special thanks to Shawn Bruno for hosting us so graciously.

If you haven’t yet read my memoir, it’s available through Amazon—a story of resilience, faith, and legacy. We’re presently working on a Spanish edition to honor my Puerto Rican heritage and reach even more hearts. You can support this journey through our GoFundMe Campaign.

Stay tuned for future book signings and events. And if you’d like to invite me to your book club or community gathering, I’d love to hear from you! Contact me

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