Marked Moments

Some moments mark us. Not with ink, but with ache. A breakup that shattered what felt sacred. A divorce that rewrote the map of home. A death that left silence where laughter used to live. A diagnosis. A betrayal. A goodbye we didn't choose. We carry these moments like invisible tattoos—etched into our story, shaping how we see the world, how we see ourselves. But maybe the question isn't "Why did this happen to me?" Maybe the deeper invitation is: "What do You want me to do now, on the other side of this pain?" Because marked doesn't mean ruined. It means set apart. It means ready. It means called into something deeper. So if you're standing in the aftermath, know this: You're not broken. You're becoming. Kerrie Oles