Getting Back Up: Learning Not to Give Up So Easily

Life will hand every one of us disappointments. A door closes. A proposal is turned down. A plan we poured ourselves into falls apart. Someone we trusted lets us down, or we let ourselves down. I have been in leadership for a long time, and I can tell you that none of this means something has gone wrong with your life. It is simply part of living. What matters is what we do next.

When failure comes, we have a choice. We can let it define us, sit in the disappointment, replay it again and again, and slowly decide that we are not capable of more. Or we can acknowledge the loss, feel it honestly, and then rise and start looking for a way forward. Resilience is not pretending it did not hurt. Ecclesiastes 3:4 says, “A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.” Grief is not weakness. If you were disappointed, it is because you cared. If you cried, it is because you were invested. Give yourself permission to feel it.

But notice that the Scripture says there is a time to weep. The danger is not in grieving. The danger is in moving in and unpacking our bags. I believe in setting a season for sorrow. Take a day, a week, or whatever the loss honestly requires, and let yourself feel it fully. Talk to someone you trust. Pray about it. Write it out. Then decide that the grieving has a limit, because your purpose does not. The longer we linger in disappointment, the louder it gets, until it starts to speak over our calling. A failure is an event. It becomes destructive only when we turn it into an identity.

I know something about this from my own life. I spent almost thirty years in federal service, and I am grateful for every one of them. Those years gave me wonderful colleagues, meaningful work, and the chance to grow as a leader. That career also opened the world to me. It gave me the opportunity to live internationally and to engage with cultures I would never have encountered otherwise. Living among people whose customs, languages, and ways of seeing life were different from my own widened my perspective and deepened my appreciation for diversity, and I carry those lessons with me every day. I had real successes during those years, and I even completed my doctoral degree along the way. I would never want anyone to read my story and think those years were wasted, because they were the foundation for everything that came after.

Like every career, though, mine had its share of disappointments. There were seasons, especially in the later years, when I hoped for the next opportunity and found myself passed over. If you have ever given your best to an organization and watched the recognition go somewhere else, you know how heavy that can feel. I did not pretend it did not sting. I let myself feel it, and then I chose to keep doing my best work, keep learning, and keep trusting that my value was not determined by any one decision made about me.

When I retired in 2011, I did not leave in defeat. I left with gratitude and with a sense that a new chapter was calling. Stepping into higher education lit a fire in me. I was noticed, I was seen as an expert, I was not dismissed, and my voice was valued. That season taught me something I want to pass on to you: a disappointment in one chapter does not cancel the successes of that chapter, and it certainly does not write the next one. You can honor where you have been, hold both the victories and the letdowns with an honest heart, and still walk boldly into what is next.

That window on the world only grew wider once I began taking students to places like India, Sri Lanka, Ukraine, and Romania. I have had the privilege of walking alongside communities that face challenges most of us can hardly imagine, and I saw people rebuild, replant, and start over with a kind of faith and determination that humbled me. Today, in my work at Lutheran Social Services of Southern California, I meet families who have lost jobs, homes, and hope, and who are still choosing to take the next step. They remind me that resilience is not reserved for the strong or the fortunate. It is a decision available to all of us.

Once you have grieved, the practical work begins, and it starts with asking better questions. Instead of asking why this happened to you, ask what you can learn from it. Every setback carries information about what worked, what did not, and what you would do differently next time. Then ask what is still within your control, because we cannot change what happened, but we can always choose our next step. Ask who can help you, since resilient people do not go it alone. They seek wisdom, mentors, and community. And finally, ask what one small step you can take today, because momentum matters more than perfection, and one step forward breaks the paralysis.

The people who succeed over the long run are rarely the ones who never fell. They are the ones who kept getting up, adjusting, and trying again with more understanding than before. Proverbs 24:16 tells us, “For a just man falleth seven times, and riseth up again.” Notice that the verse expects the falling. It does not say if you fall. It celebrates the rising. And Galatians 6:9 encourages us with these words: “And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.” So often, the harvest arrives right after the point where quitting felt most tempting.

So if you are in a season of disappointment right now, hear this: you are not finished. What you are facing is real, and it may be painful, but it is not the end of your story. Take the time to grieve, then lift your head, dust yourself off, and ask, “Where do we go from here?” There are solutions you have not found yet, people you have not met yet, and doors you have not walked through yet. Your resilience is not just for you. Someone is watching how you handle this, and your getting up will give them permission to get up too.

Keep going. Your breakthrough may be closer than you think.

~Dr. LaSharnda

Embracing Change: Understanding Life’s Seasons

There is a rhythm built into everything God made. Winter gives way to spring. Night surrenders to morning. The tide pulls back so it can rush forward again. Nothing in creation stays the same forever, and if we are honest with ourselves, neither do we.

Ecclesiastes 3:1 reminds us that “to everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.” We accept this truth easily when we are talking about weather or calendars. It is harder to accept when the season that is ending involves a person, a role, a relationship, or a version of ourselves we have grown comfortable holding on to.

Woman standing on a leaf-covered forest trail in autumn

Sometimes we hold on to a friendship that stopped being mutual years ago. Sometimes it is a job that no longer stretches us or a title we have outgrown. Sometimes it is a relationship that quietly stopped nourishing us and started draining us instead. We keep holding on anyway, not because it is still good for us, but because letting go feels like loss, and loss is uncomfortable.

But here is what I have come to understand: holding on past the season God intended is not loyalty. It is often fear dressed up as faithfulness.

People, like things, come and go. That is not a cold truth. It is actually a merciful one, because it means God is always making room for what is next.

Isaiah 43:19 says, “Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.” God cannot do a new thing in a life that refuses to release the old one. Our hands can only hold so much. If they are clenched around something we should have let go long ago, they are not open to receive what God has next.

This is not permission to abandon commitments or walk away from hard but necessary relationships. Discernment matters here. But there is a difference between a hard season worth pressing through and a closed season we are refusing to close. One requires endurance. The other requires obedience.

If you are holding on to something or someone who may be holding you back, I want to gently ask you today: what is it costing you to keep holding on? What could God be waiting to give you once your hands are finally empty enough to receive it?

Letting go is not losing. It is trusting that the God who authored the last season is trustworthy enough to author the next one.

Seasons come and go because they are supposed to. Let them.

~Dr. LaSharnda

The Power of the Ordinary

“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters.”
— Colossians 3:23

Have you ever noticed how much attention we give to the big moments in life? We celebrate promotions, graduations, ribbon cuttings, awards, anniversaries, and milestones. And we should; those moments represent hard work and meaningful accomplishments.

But here’s what I’ve been thinking about lately. Those milestone moments don’t just happen. They’re built on thousands of ordinary moments that most people never see. They’re built on early mornings, late nights, difficult conversations, quiet decisions, and the discipline to keep going when no one is applauding.

I’ve come to believe that our lives are shaped far more by what we do consistently than by what we do occasionally. That’s why Colossians 3:23 resonates so deeply with me. It reminds us that whatever we do, whether anyone notices or not, we should give it our very best. Not because we’re chasing recognition, but because excellence is a reflection of who we are and whose we are. Seriously!

I take pride in knowing that I give my all to whatever I pursue. If I am going to say I value exercise, I set time to do it. If I say I value my job, I am going to not only show up each day, but I am going to give it my all. When I say I value God and I am dedicated to Him and to my faith, I ensure I build in to each day spiritual disciplines of prayer and Bible reading. Our actions truly tell others (and ourselves) what our priorities are.

The truth is, character is built in the ordinary. Integrity is revealed in the decisions no one else sees. Trust is earned through consistency. Leadership is developed one conversation, one choice, and one relationship at a time.

Whether you’re leading an organization, raising a family, serving your community, building a business, or simply trying to become a better version of yourself, never underestimate the significance of showing up every day with purpose.

Maybe that’s the lesson for all of us. Instead of waiting for the next big opportunity, what if we embraced today’s opportunity? What if we approached every meeting, every conversation, every challenge, and every act of service as something that truly matters? Because it does. The future isn’t built in one defining moment. It’s built one faithful step at a time.

So wherever life finds you today, give your best to what’s in front of you. Finish the task. Extend grace. Show up with purpose. You may never know how one ordinary moment becomes the turning point in someone else’s life; or even your own.

After all, extraordinary lives are rarely built on extraordinary days. They’re built on ordinary days lived with extraordinary faithfulness.

PRAY: A Simple Pathway Back to the Heart of God

Prayer has carried me through some of the most difficult, uncertain, and transformative seasons of my life. There have been moments when I knew exactly what to pray, and there have been seasons when I sat quietly before God without words, simply trusting that He understood the weight in my heart. Over time, I have learned that prayer is not about perfection, eloquence, or saying the right things in the right order. Prayer is about relationship. It is about drawing near to God honestly, humbly, and faithfully.

In a world filled with noise, distractions, pressure, and constant demands, prayer reconnects us to peace. It reminds us that no burden is too heavy for God and no circumstance is beyond His reach. Prayer has a way of realigning our minds, calming our spirits, and helping us remember who truly remains in control when life feels uncertain.

One of the simplest and most meaningful ways I have learned to approach prayer is through the acronym PRAY:

P: Praise
R: Repent
A: Ask
Y: Yield

This simple framework has become more than an acronym to me. It is a spiritual reminder that prayer is not only about bringing requests before God. It is also about positioning our hearts properly before Him.

Praise shifts our attention away from our problems and back toward the character and goodness of God. So often, we can enter prayer already overwhelmed by worry, fear, frustration, or exhaustion. Yet when we begin with praise, the atmosphere changes our hearts. Praise reminds us that God is still faithful even when circumstances are difficult. He is still merciful when we fall short. He is still sovereign when situations appear out of control. Praise helps us remember that the same God who carried us through yesterday will sustain us today.

Psalm 100:4 says, “Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise.” There is something powerful about approaching God first with gratitude rather than anxiety. Praise does not deny that challenges exist; it simply acknowledges that God is greater than those challenges.

Repentance is another essential part of prayer because it keeps our hearts humble and spiritually sensitive. Repentance is often misunderstood as shame or condemnation, but true repentance is really about realignment. It is the willingness to pause before God and ask Him to search our hearts honestly. Sometimes repentance involves obvious mistakes or sin, but often it involves attitudes that quietly grow within us over time: pride, bitterness, fear, jealousy, impatience, unforgiveness, or even the desire to control outcomes ourselves instead of trusting God.

Repentance softens our hearts. It reminds us that we are still growing, still learning, and still dependent upon God’s grace every day. One of the greatest gifts of God is that He never turns away from a sincere heart seeking forgiveness and restoration. First John 1:9 says, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” Repentance is not weakness; it is spiritual maturity and honesty before God.

After praise and repentance comes asking. God invites us to bring our needs before Him. Too often people feel they must carry every burden alone, especially those in leadership, caregiving, ministry, or positions where others depend upon us. Yet prayer reminds us that dependence upon God is not weakness. It is faith.

We can ask God for wisdom, strength, healing, peace, provision, clarity, endurance, and direction. We can ask Him to guide our decisions, protect our families, strengthen our relationships, and calm our fears. Scripture encourages us in Matthew 7:7 to “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” God cares deeply about the things that concern us because He cares deeply about us.

Still, perhaps the most difficult part of prayer is yielding. Yielding requires surrender, and surrender is not always easy. After we have praised, repented, and asked, we must eventually trust God enough to release control. Yielding means saying, “Lord, not my will, but Yours be done.” It means trusting His timing when answers do not come quickly. It means believing His wisdom is greater than our understanding even when life unfolds differently than we expected.

Many people pray sincerely, yet leave prayer still carrying the burdens they supposedly placed before God. True surrender means releasing the outcome into His hands and trusting Him with what we cannot control. Proverbs 3:5 reminds us to “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” Yielding does not mean giving up. It means trusting God enough to let Him lead.

As I continue growing in faith, I realize more and more that prayer is not simply an activity reserved for difficult moments. Prayer is a lifestyle. It is daily dependence upon God. It is choosing peace over panic, trust over fear, and surrender over control. Prayer centers us when life becomes chaotic and strengthens us when seasons become heavy.

The PRAY framework serves as a simple reminder that prayer is both personal and transformational. Praise keeps our hearts grateful. Repentance keeps our hearts humble. Asking keeps our hearts dependent. Yielding keeps our hearts surrendered.

No matter what season you may be walking through today, know that God is listening. He is near to the weary, present in uncertainty, and faithful in every season. Sometimes the most powerful thing we can do is simply pause, breathe, and PRAY.

Live Out Loud: Step Boldly Into the Life You Were Meant to Live

There comes a moment (sometimes quietly, sometimes all at once), when you realize that life is not meant to be lived cautiously from the sidelines. It is meant to be lived fully, boldly, and with intention. Not halfway. Not when it feels safe. Not when everything is perfectly aligned. But now.

This month, that truth has been sitting with me in a deeper way.

We often move through life assuming there will always be more time. More time to pursue the dream. More time to mend the relationship. More time to say the words that sit on our hearts. But the reality is, tomorrow is not promised. And while that may sound sobering, it is also incredibly freeing. Because it reminds us that today matters.

Living life out loud is not about being loud in volume; it is about being clear in purpose. It is about showing up fully as who God created you to be; unapologetically, faithfully, and with courage. It is choosing to live with conviction, rather than hesitation. It is deciding that your life will reflect your values, your faith, and your calling, not your fears.

There is something powerful that happens when you stop shrinking yourself to fit into spaces that were never meant for you. When you stop waiting for permission to walk in your purpose. When you stop allowing uncertainty about the future to silence what God has already placed inside of you.

Jesus reminds us in John 10:10 (NIV)“I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” That means the life you have been given was never intended to be small, hesitant, or muted. It was designed to be lived fully—rich in purpose, grounded in faith, and expressed with boldness.

Living fully also means embracing joy without guilt. Too often, we convince ourselves that joy must be earned after struggle, or that peace can only come once everything is resolved. But God offers both in the present—even in seasons of uncertainty, even when the path ahead is not fully clear.

It also means taking risks; not reckless risks, but faith-filled ones. The kind that stretch you. The kind that require you to trust God beyond what you can see. The kind that remind you that growth never happens in comfort.

And yes, it means loving people well. Saying what needs to be said. Extending grace. Offering forgiveness. Being present. Because at the end of the day, it is not the meetings, the titles, or the accolades that define our lives; it is how we showed up for others and how we allowed God to work through us.

There is urgency in this message, but not fear. It is a holy urgency. A reminder that your life has meaning today. That your voice matters today. That your purpose is active today.

So this month, I am choosing to live differently. I am choosing to lean into every opportunity, to speak life where it is needed, to pursue what God has placed before me, and to walk boldly in faith. Not waiting. Not hesitating. Not holding back.

I encourage you to do the same.

Do not wait for the “right time.” Do not silence your calling. Do not postpone your joy.

Live your life out loud.
Live it with faith.
Live it with purpose.
Live it fully.

Because today is a gift—and it was always meant to be lived to the full.

Fueled by Passion: Turning What’s Within You Into What You Pursue

There is something powerful about passion. It is not always loud or attention seeking, yet it is steady, persistent, and deeply rooted within us. Passion is the quiet force that keeps you moving forward, even when no one else sees the vision the way you do. It is the inner drive that nudges you to keep going, to keep building, and to keep believing long after the initial excitement fades and the work becomes real.

We often think of passion as something emotional, something tied to moments of excitement or inspiration. However, true passion goes much deeper than that. It is not just what excites you. It is what sustains you. It is the reason you continue to show up, even on the days when progress feels slow or unclear. It is what pushes you to take one more step, try one more time, and remain committed to what you set out to do.

When something is placed inside of you, whether it is an idea, a vision, or a goal, it is not there by accident. There is a reason it keeps coming back to you, a reason it stays on your mind, and a reason you cannot easily walk away from it. That persistence is often the clearest sign of passion. When passion is nurtured, it begins to create momentum. It transforms thoughts into action, ideas into plans, and over time, it turns goals into reality.

Passion alone, however, is not enough. It must be supported by consistency, discipline, and a willingness to keep moving forward even when the path is not perfectly clear. There will be moments of energy and focus, and there will be moments of fatigue or uncertainty. That is part of the process. The difference is that when you are driven by passion, you do not stop. You adjust, you refocus, and you continue. Not because everything is easy, but because something within you will not allow you to give up.

That is what makes passion so powerful. It is not dependent on circumstances, recognition, or immediate results. It is internal, and because it is internal, it is sustainable. It shows up in the way you care about your growth, your well being, and the life you are creating for yourself. It reveals itself in your commitment to your goals and in your willingness to become better each day.

As you move through your journey, passion often expresses itself as resilience. It is the ability to keep moving forward, step by step, even when the outcome has not yet fully revealed itself. It is the steady belief that what you are working toward matters, even if you cannot yet see the full picture.

This leads to an important question. What is it that you cannot let go of? What continues to come back to you, no matter how busy life becomes? What is that one thing that keeps pulling you forward? Those questions are worth sitting with, because the answers often point directly to the passion that is meant to guide you.

When you lean into that passion, when you commit to it, nurture it, and take consistent action, you begin to notice a shift. Momentum starts to build. Clarity begins to form. What once felt distant starts to feel attainable. The journey may not always be easy, but it becomes meaningful. When something is meaningful, you will find the strength to continue.

Keep moving forward. Keep building. Keep showing up for what has been placed inside of you. What you carry was not given to you lightly. It was given to you with intention. As Scripture reminds us, it is God who works within us, shaping both our desire and our actions so that we can fulfill His purpose (Philippians 2:13, NIV).

When you allow your passion to lead, you are not simply chasing goals. You are becoming the person capable of achieving them.


When You Stop Defending Yourself

One of the unexpected benefits of fasting is not just physical discipline, but spiritual clarity.

Fasting sharpens your awareness. It reveals what normally goes unnoticed. Distractions become louder before they fall away, and emotions rise to the surface so they can be examined instead of ignored. In that way, fasting is not only about what you deny your body, but what you confront within your spirit.

One of the quiet struggles of this fast has not been hunger. It has been restraint. Not restraint from food, but restraint from explaining myself, defending myself, and shrinking just enough so someone else can feel more secure.

Fasting has a way of exposing how often we feel compelled to justify who we are, what we know, and why we move the way we do. It reveals how easily the need for approval can slip into places where confidence once lived. And it shows us just how much energy can be spent trying to be understood by people who are not actually seeking understanding.

If you have lived long enough, you learn that there will always be people who see you and people who search you. Some meet you with grace. Others arrive already looking for fault. No matter how carefully you speak, how thoughtfully you move, or how much good you bring, they will find something to question.

That realization can be unsettling, especially in a season of consecration and prayer.

The Apostle Paul asked a question that is rarely quoted, but deeply revealing:
“Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God?” (Galatians 1:10).

That question lands differently during a fast.

Because fasting strips away the illusion that every opinion deserves equal weight. It reminds you that obedience to God will not always be comfortable to people, and clarity of purpose can sometimes make others uneasy. Not every reaction requires a response. Not every criticism requires correction.

Scripture also tells us, “A person’s wisdom yields patience; it is to one’s glory to overlook an offense” (Proverbs 19:11).

Overlooking is not weakness. It is discernment.

There will always be a thorn. Someone who presses, provokes, critiques, or unsettles you. The mistake is not their presence. The mistake is allowing them to redirect your focus, dilute your confidence, or pull you into defending what God has already affirmed.

Fasting teaches restraint.
Restraint in speech.
Restraint in reaction.
Restraint in the need to be validated.

It teaches you how to stop chasing clarity with people who benefit from misunderstanding you. It reminds you not to make yourself smaller just so someone else can feel bigger. And it strengthens your resolve to keep walking in purpose without dragging every critic along with you.

You already know who you are. You already know what you have been called to do.
You already know the fruit of your labor.

So do not chase people who are committed to misunderstanding you. Do not shrink to make someone else comfortable. And do not abandon your assignment just because someone else is uncomfortable with your obedience.

Brush it off. Keep walking. Let God deal with what you cannot fix.

Freedom, Contentment, and Christ at Christmas

Christmas has always been one of my favorite times of the year. There is something unmistakably special about this season. People seem lighter, more joyful, and more willing to extend kindness, even while navigating the stress of decorating, shopping, traveling, and trying to make the holiday feel meaningful and memorable. There is a shared warmth in the air, a collective pause from routine, and a desire to connect. I genuinely love that.

Yet as much as I love Christmas, I love Christ even more.

 

This season continually reminds me of the importance of keeping my focus centered on Him and on His will for my life. When I lose that focus, even with good intentions, I can slowly drift into subtle forms of bondage. Overextending myself. Saying yes too quickly. Trying to meet expectations that were never assigned by God. Measuring success by activity instead of alignment.

True freedom comes through contentment.

Contentment releases us from the pressure to perform, to impress, or to be seen by others. It frees us from the exhausting cycle of doing more simply to please people, many of whom may never fully understand or even notice the sacrifice being made. When our motivation shifts from obedience to approval, the joy of giving quietly turns into obligation, and obligation eventually leads to weariness.

Scripture reminds us of this truth with clarity and gentleness: “Godliness with contentment is great gain” (1 Timothy 6:6, NIV).

Christmas is not meant to be a season of depletion. It is meant to be a season of remembrance. Christ came to bring freedom, not burden. Peace, not pressure. Rest, not relentless striving.

There is nothing wrong with caring deeply for others or giving generously. In fact, those acts reflect the heart of Christ. But there is wisdom in knowing when to stop, when to rest, and when to say no. Boundaries are not unloving. They are often the very thing that preserves joy and sustains faith.

Sometimes the most faithful act we can offer during this season is restraint. Choosing simplicity. Choosing presence over perfection. Choosing obedience to God’s leading instead of responding to every external expectation.

This Christmas, my prayer is to remain anchored in contentment. To give freely without overextending. To serve joyfully without seeking validation. To celebrate deeply while remaining grounded in the truth that Christ alone is the reason for this season and the source of true freedom.

May we all find the courage to slow down, the wisdom to honor our limits, and the peace that comes from living unbound and centered on Him.

Blessings…

God Sees You: Finding Value in the Unnoticed

I have been reading through the Book of Genesis, and lately my mind has been locked onto the twelve tribes. I memorized the names of the tribes when I was young, but recently something stirred in me. In my sleep, I could hear myself recalling the names of each tribe and tying them back to Leah and her maid, and to Rachel and hers. I intuitively knew that Rachel had only two sons, but something didn’t make sense to me: neither Joseph nor Benjamin produced the priestly line (the Levites) or the messianic line. Surely the priests or the Messiah would come through Rachel; right?

That question bothered me enough that I had to get up, open my Bible, and study it again.

As I read the scriptures, my heart kept returning to Leah and Rachel, and the more I delved into their stories, the more God began revealing something to me that I want to share with you.

Scripture tells us of Leah, a woman who lived in the shadow of her sister. She not only felt invisible; she felt unloved. Her husband Jacob adored Rachel. The world applauded Rachel. But heaven saw Leah.
“When the Lord saw that Leah was unloved, He opened her womb.” (Genesis 29:31)

When others turned away, God fixed His gaze upon her. When she felt unwanted, He gave her purpose. And through her lineage, the one no one celebrated, came the priestly line, the royal line, and ultimately the Redeemer Himself: Jesus Christ.

That is the miracle of being seen by God. He takes what others dismiss and calls it divine.
He turns quiet tears into generational blessing.

Life has a way of making even the strongest hearts feel invisible. We work hard, love deeply, and give faithfully , yet still find ourselves overlooked by those who seem to notice everyone else. But hear me clearly: God never overlooks you.

Maybe you’ve been faithfully sowing seeds of kindness at work.
Maybe you’ve been showing up for your family, supporting loved ones, or serving behind the scenes; and no one seems to notice.
Maybe you feel like your prayers have echoed unanswered for too long.

But God sees every unseen effort. “You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in Your bottle. Are they not in Your book?” (Psalm 56:8). When you feel overlooked, remember this: you do not have to be someone’s first choice to be God’s perfect choice. His favor is not determined by human validation. The same God who saw Leah sees you, right there in the middle of your frustration, your faithfulness, and your fatigue. He is still writing your story, and He never misplaces a page.

So lift your head today. Walk with quiet confidence, knowing that being unseen by others has never meant being forgotten by God. You are seen. You are chosen. You are deeply loved.

The world may not know your name; but Heaven does.