The Life God Is Writing Through Me

Sharing my story vulnerably and boldly has been a journey for me. My journey is not just a tale of faith but a gentle invitation to explore the depths of spiritual renewal. It is a path marked by transformation, resilience, and a profound connection with God. As you walk with me through my story, I hope you find moments that resonate with your own quest for meaning and inspiration.

A serene space with a Bible reflecting the story God writes in all our lives

The Early Steps: Finding Breath After Drowning

My story began in joy, love, boldness, and creativity. Finding a way to drive a car at 2 years old, with a big bold personality and smile. Smiling and loving every experience I could as a joyful toddler.

Then trauma, abandonment, and depression entered my life. And my story forever changed in water.

As a child, I drowned in the river. I can still remember the gasping for air, the panic, impending death, the silence of surrender. Resigning myself to not exist in heaven or earth.

And yet, I lived. I surfaced not just into oxygen but into calling. From that moment on, I carried an awareness—that my life was no longer mine alone.

Even before I understood what God was doing, His love seemed to pull words out of me in unexpected places.

I was quiet by nature growing up, but the moment His name came up, something in me shifted. I’d find myself on the steps of a rowhouse in Philadelphia, speaking with older friends about God with a boldness I didn’t know I had. I’d sit in my father’s Sunday school class, the youngest in the room full of adults, and open my mouth with thoughts on Scripture that surprised even me.

In college dorm rooms, late at night, I would suddenly speak with an authority that didn’t match my personality—about God, His love, and the hope that wouldn’t let me go.

It was always Him. Always Love. Always the River calling me deeper.

Trauma, Resurrection, and Trust

The River taught me to surrender. To let God meet me in drowning, abandonment, and even death itself. To believe that resurrection isn’t just a story in Scripture—it’s a lived experience in our bodies.

Trauma once locked me in fear and bracing, but trust—trust in God, in others, and even slowly in myself—became the doorway to healing.

That trust didn’t arrive all at once. It came in layers, in whispers, in moments when everything in me wanted to close off. Gently, God invited me to open. To let light in. To let love in. And every time I said yes, my body remembered safety. My heart remembered Eden.

A beautiful sunset over the sea signifying the beauty and early connection to water

The Miraculous in the Everyday

If The River was about surrender, Our Bodies as the Garden of Eden is about living. Living as though miracles are normal. Because they are. Healing isn’t just a moment—it’s a rhythm. Joy isn’t just a feeling—it’s the atmosphere of Heaven breaking into earth.

I’ve learned to see the miraculous in the smallest things:

• The slow breath that grounds me when I once gasped for survival.

• The warmth of sunlight on my face after seasons of darkness.

• The laughter of a my wife and children that I never expected to experience in the River.

• The kindness exchanged between strangers that rewires both nervous systems at once.

  
  

These are not accidents. They are God, breaking through the ordinary with His extraordinary presence.

A peaceful garden path representing the journey to find the miraculous

Walking Forward Together

My journey isn’t about a perfect roadmap. It’s about invitation. To let your body become a garden again. To trust that wellness isn’t earned—it’s your inheritance. To live as though you are loved—because you are.

So I share my story not just as testimony but as an open hand. If God could meet me in drowning, trauma, and silence, He can meet you in whatever you carry. And when He does, everything changes—your body, your mind, your spirit.

This isn’t the end of my story, and it isn’t the end of yours. It’s just the beginning. A return. A re-entry into the presence of God that has always been closer than breath.

May you find Him in your story. May you feel Him in your body. And may your life, like mine, become a garden where Heaven is already breaking through.

Infinite love and blessings always,

Nicholas