I am process. I am on to something but not entirely there yet. My process reflects my journey. It represents my past and forces me to be present in my ‘right now’ moment. My process helps me look forward to my future. It gives me hope without worry, love without envy, joy without sorrow.

I am process. At times completely stained with mistakes; things I said that I shouldn’t have spoken, actions I’ve done that I wish would be forgotten, decisions I’ve made that could never be rewritten. I am a percentage on route to wholesomeness. I’m on to something but not entirely there yet.

I am process. I wrestle with who I am and who I am becoming. Complex in nature but not at all complicated. Straightforward on my approach and practical in my execution. Unwavering in my focus, and sometimes way too ambitious. I’m on to something but not entirely there yet.

I am process a life light that is radiant but at times dim. Cautiously encouraged by my highs and disenchanted by my lows. I am process. Ascending to the high hills filled with its perilous twists and turns. I’m on to something but not entirely there yet.

What is process? Process is persistence. Process is an investment. Process is being intentional. Process is integrity. Process is time-consuming. Process is bravery. I am process. I’m on to something but not entirely there yet.


The Shattered Pieces of Womanhood

I always felt jaded growing up female. I would often hear mixed messages from adults that were supposed to love, encourage, and teach me about care. Love manifested itself in short phrases like, “don’t cluck, cluck like a chicken.” “You’ll follow the footsteps of ‘her’ and never amount to anything.” “You’re a failure and a disgraceful child.” I grew up female thinking; perhaps I am unworthy. Maybe I am just shattered pieces that can’t be made whole. My future means nothing because I am nothing.

As a young girl, I learned early on how to devalue my being. A truth that penetrated and hunted me throughout my process into womanhood. Neglect was the ‘N’ word that no adult in my care circle was bold enough to confront. Instead, image took its place, and I was taught to lie without speaking words. I was taught to embrace my silence, masked in this unspoken concept of beauty. Externally I looked good, but internally my heart was devasted, shattered into a million broken pieces as if I was a million piece puzzle. As a young girl, I tried so hard to find the matching pieces but had such a hard time getting it right.

As a teenager, womanhood was known to me as a projection of harsh words. I no longer was living in silence. I became loud, obnoxious, with an extremely ‘off the cuff’ attitude. I cut people with my words. I hurt them with my eyes. I demolished them with my actions. After all, that is what hurt people do to other hurt people. I projected the ‘neglected child’ to others in hopes of healing a piece of me. This way of living, thinking, and acting taught me a lot of harsh life lessons. I used to think I was above certain situations. I would look at other young girls and say, “How did they get there? I’ll NEVER get to that point.” Never say never; that was the beginning of my ‘house fire‘ phase. My life as a teenager started with a spark, and by the time I was nineteen, I became engulfed in flames of pain. The pain of feeling like I was never enough. The rage of anger against my community at the time. The failure I felt within myself and the darkness that kept on sweeping me under; deeper into my ashes, as the house that I once thought would protect me came crashing down on top of me.

As a young adult, womanhood meant independence. I was determined to rise higher than my burnt house and my pain. I set goals for myself and worked tirelessly to achieve them. I found love and solace in dance, writing, and acting. Again, in the midst of my independence, I found myself lost in this patriotic duty to perform perfection to a society that once taught me I am nothing. My whirlwind of pain increased and the pieces of me that I did have a hold of were once again shattering before me.

As an adult, I surrendered it all to THE VINE, the creator of my soul. I just had enough of my darkness, and the inflictions I placed on others, the feeling of neglect that hunted me throughout my life; and the haunting lie that I wasn’t good enough to be made whole. I had to get to a low point before calling on MY VINE for help.

You see, womanhood has taught me two things. It showed me the importance of healing and wholeness. My surrender to THE VINE has elevated me to the woman I am today. At times, I still sometimes feel like I’m a bunch of scattered pieces. But, just today, I woke up and heard MY VINE’S voice so clearly. He whispered so softly the one phrase that birthed this story, which is my history into conception, “Scattered pieces are fragile pieces made whole.”


As a result, of HIS ultimate love, I am made whole and set free from the bondages that tried to beset me. Today, I define my womanhood as the process of becoming whole and speaking out loud my truths. I hope my authenticity can set other lost souls free from their house fires. I desire to guide them to the SOURCE of complete surrender and wholeness, for that was how I found my peace. After all, “Scattered pieces are fragile pieces made whole.”

I’m just speaking out loud in my process of becoming.

Sunday, October 29th, 2017

Signing Out,

Esther Lynn

Achievement or Well-Being?

This morning I read a short article about how parents in the Netherlands raise their children to value education for their well being, rather than for achievement. The Netherlands has one of the top education systems in the world. Naturally, I was intrigued as to what makes it the top-ranked country in the world and what are they doing differently compared to my upbringing in the education field. One aspect that the article highlighted was students are encouraged to see themselves as they are without the pressure of performance, competing with their peers, and grades.

I grew up in a household where education was everything. You go to school to apply yourself, be the best student, and bring home only the best grades. My parent’s always reminded my siblings and me of the opportunities that were easily given to us. In Haiti, they had to pay for school, prepare their own lunch, and travel far to get to the school building. In America, the school system provided school bus transportation, free education, and depending on your home situation, free lunch. My parents would say we were privileged compared to other students across the world and they were right. Sometimes I miss those days when my only responsibility was to be a student.

However, as I think about my son and have discussions with my husband about how we want to raise him, I can’t help but wonder, is that all there is to education– going to school, getting good grades, and being the best? How about the wholesomeness of the child and how will we make sure, as parents, that our children feel a sense of completeness within themselves, despite the pressures to conform, and perform in an educational world saturated with the need to prove self-worth by achievement and accolades from others?

I must give my parents credit because they raised me up to be a passionate, inquisitive, and curious young woman. I understand I was raised and brought up in a different time period. My parents projected upon my siblings and me, what their parents always wanted from them, or what they wished they could’ve had for themselves when they were my age. So it’s not a surprise that in elementary and junior high school, my parents expected me to apply myself. In high school, I had to remain focus to be qualified for the university level. During university, the expectation was to do well so I can get a good paying job. The problem is at these crucial stages of my educational journey; I lost my sense of purpose because I was too busy competing with my peers. I saw myself in who ‘they‘ were and not in who ‘I‘ was–I think that’s something many young people can connect with.

Competition.jpgAs a young teen, I maintained a mindset of always being the best and working hard. By the time I entered high school the value of education had become a source of achievement, rather than the awakening of my mind. At Mount Pleasant High, I was not only in competition in the classroom, (that’s if I was even interested in the content matter) image also became a defining factor of who I was and how others saw me. What I wore, the style of my hair, my friends, and overall demeanor. My intellect took a backburner, and if I was in good terms with the teacher, grades were not a problem. High school was all about graduating and getting into university.

My college years were a whirlwind of emotions. I entered a different world, with student peers that had a broader perspective on life and wasn’t afraid to share their opinions and worldview in the classroom. I felt like the invisible man occupying space. I thought college was just about doing well, earning a degree, and at the end of all your efforts, getting a good paying job. The reality of it all is college was a time in my life where I recognized my achievement gaps. It was no longer about competition or image–it was about proving myself worthy of the opportunity placed in front of me. For so many years, my mindset was all about being the best and achieving good grades to be successful. It never occurred to me, till then, the importance of communication, working collaboratively with different people that are entirely different from me and the importance of learning to appreciate and utilize my voice as well as life experiences to contribute to what should’ve been my real educational journey from the beginning.


The beauty of different seasons and stages I have encountered throughout my academic journey is the growth and progress that it has made in my well-being. My parents were right by teaching me the value of education at a young age. Although I got lost along the way, it was the many lessons I allowed myself to learn throughout my process that has shaped me into the woman I am today.

So, as I think about my children and how I hope to raise them up, I pray my husband and I will be parents that teach them how to be confident individuals. I hope our children will welcome different opinions and have the courage to stand in their convictions in what they believe to be real and authentic, while also being receptive to what others can teach them. I have no desire to move to the Netherlands, but I sure can learn from their model and apply it to my household.

Signing Out,

~Esther Lynn~

Saturday, October 14th, 2017


My Hidden Treasure: Baby Thompson

In 2015, the chances of me having children were very slim. At 27 years old, the doctors found three massive benign tumors that altered my uterus and gave me no chance of carrying children, unless I had surgery. The surgery did not guarantee I would be able to conceive; the doctors informed my husband and I that the medical procedure would be risky, but that was the only chance we had in one day growing our family in the future. At first, we were very opposed to the surgery. But as the months progressed and my belly swelled with tumors (not a life), we gave up control and allowed God to take the wheel.

Long story short, 2015 brought me many tears, pain, and unbelief. However, there was such beauty and love that came out of that one historical storm. On December 2015 I had the surgery. My doctors informed us they found not three but seven tumors that were so large they did not know how I managed to carry them for so long. By the grace of God, the doctors were able to repair my uterus, take all the tumors out and give me a chance to carry a baby in the future full term; this is my story, my testimony, my joy, my impossible becoming possible and my precious treasure. God has blessed Micah and me tremendously. Through all the whirlwinds and storms that came our way, God has always kept us in his will.

Two years later, we’ve explored different cultures and are currently living in a foreign land. But the greatest adventure out of this whole experience is the expectation of our little bundle of joy coming in December. MicNilly is expanding their tribe and adding a precious little one to the village. We are so excited! Beyond grateful to God and just filled with so much love for our little peanut.

A good friend said to me,  seeing the purpose in your current place and community is always best. She told me to take this journey, tell it and live it proudly. God has blessed Micah and me with a hidden treasure. Our process to this road was long and rigorous; it required much sacrifice, molding of self, and preparation. On March 2017, God said it was time and opened my womb for life to develop and grow from within. At times I’m just astounded at all the miracles that are happening around us. At my doctor visits, Micah and I watch the monitor screen of our pride and joy actively kicking, punching, and at times sucking its thumb, with so much love filled in our hearts. Often times, after my doctor visits I’ll call my parents and ask them endless questions about their emotions when they first saw me on an ultrasound screen. I become inquisitive about their prayers for me and how they prepared to receive me. My parents share their insights on how a child changes everything any soon-to-be mother or father ever knew about love; they call it the purest element of love.

Life growing inside of a women’s womb changes everything she once knew and observed about her journey. All that matters is the healthy development of her child. The deep connection she has with her spouse. The love and support of family and friends. But, most importantly, the awareness and understanding that God has it all in his hands.

I always tell my husband, Micah, that he is a tangible expression of God’s love for me. Baby Thompson is my double portion. We both fully rejoice in our inheritance. Everlasting joy will be ours. Through the Prophet Isaiah, God spoke his word best into our existence.

“For I, the Lord, love justice; I hate robbery and wrongdoing. In my faithfulness, I will reward my people and make an everlasting covenant with them. Their descendants will be known among the nations and their offspring among the peoples. All who see them will acknowledge that they are a people the Lord has blessed.” 

Isaiah 61: 8-9

We are all in our own process of becoming. I just live to speak mine out loud.

Signing Out,
Esther Lynn

Sunday, June 4th, 2017


Life and Heart

Lately, I’ve been thinking about my process of becoming, where I have grown and areas where I am still stagnant. My life experiences have taught me the importance of reflection and awareness. So, let’s have a conversation about life and heart. How do we find a balance between the two? Balance is such a critical word, yet it is so hard to discover and do. Jesus is a perfect example of balance. He sees in us what we fail to see in ourselves. Even in our selfishness and brokenness, he loves us still the same. At times I find myself struggling greatly with God’s love. I don’t always understand it. For God to love me despite my flaws, setbacks, lack of obedience, and selfishness completely blow my mind.

When someone offends me, I hold on to it. It takes me a while to let it go. I ask God for help along my process of forgiveness towards others, but my evil mind will contort negative responses to give when the opportunity arrives. My rationale is to hurt them just as much as they hurt me; to cut their wounds deeper, so that they can experience my pain. Now, I know, this thought process is not right. Fighting fire with fire doesn’t calm the fiery flames; it only ignites the spark.


However, knowing something doesn’t necessarily mean you automatically put it into action. Sometimes it takes a breaking point, a time of deep introspection to turn away from the dangers of unforgiveness. Every time I get to the point of lacking grace, God reminds me what can happen to me internally when I choose to hold on to strife. I rob myself of the ability to be forgiven from him and by others. This is why God’s love often blows my mind. His love is so deep that the moment I think I am justified in my emotions/ actions he causes me to look at myself. Once I let go of the offense and look at me first, before scrutinizing the offending party, I realize I, too,  need grace. I, too, need love and I, too, am in search of balance that is hard to discover but necessary to go in search after.

One day I will have children. I often think of them when I’m struggling with loving others. As I look forward to one day becoming a mother, I consider my thought life and heart. I think about their characteristics. I imagine the way they will interact with people. I ask myself, do I want them to lack grace or do I want them always to have a heart of love? I realized who they become completely depends on who I am now. It’s important I see people the way God sees me, flawed but loved. My emotions and actions may at times be unpredictable and out of place, but I am loved by God still the same. Just as they are loved by God in the same way. Letting go is not easy but it’s necessary for my past, present, and future.


It’s human nature to be broken by something or someone that hurts us. It’s not unusual to feel disconnected from others and their personal views, especially when the pain runs deep. But, to find balance, we must turn away from our judgments and the wounds that hurt us. We cast it aside by not being so dependent on what once was or should’ve been. We let go of our expectations and allow life to reveal itself on its own. Harvesting strife against others is refusing to grow. Harvesting love despite its hurt contents and brokenness is to accept people as they are without hurting yourself or those that are looking up to you or coming up after you. I call this, Periods of Waiting: Periods of Trusting.

Truth is we can become something or someone our hearts allow us to become. Change is not something the environment fosters. It’s rather an internal part of what our hearts desire. Become or un-become; your heart is the only organ with the real answer.

I’m just Speaking Out Loud in my Process of Becoming…

Signing Out,
Esther Lynn

Monday, May 29th, 2017


Let’s Have A Conversation

I was taught at an early age the depths of words. I learned the immense weight that can transcend an atmosphere by the expressions, we, as people, use to express what’s hidden, stored, and felt in our hearts. I’m still a working progress, but in recent years, I have come to a conclusion, reflection is necessary, and awareness is imperative. So, I was then left with this question, what impact do our words have on the relationships that surround us. Let’s have a conversation. You and I. Face-to-face with locked eyes.

Let’s have a conversation about relationships. You see, too often we get it confused. When I speak, I often feel cross-referenced. It’s like I’m partially non-existent. Conversations unfold with what you heard and the words I actually spoke. You misguide my details, and they are often missing from the whole interaction.
Your reaction is never a response at all, but rather a flare up of raging emotions. Relations can either be existential or only sustained by vile contentment.

Let’s have a conversation where judgment is at a distance and wounds from words doesn’t exist. Let’s get past the surface fluff and reach deeper in our understanding. Where we no longer have to hold back our authentic thoughts in an attempt to save ourselves from our dismantled hearts. Let’s come together. You and I. Face-to-face with locked eyes. Let’s have a conversation to speak out loud the truths hidden in our broken places to release, the torrent suppressed underneath our emotional tides.

Let’s have a conversation where we stop hiding from ourselves; Where we turn away from our loneliness and confront our shame. Let’s have a conversation where our vulnerability has an open invitation to our discussion. Let’s come together. You and I. Face-to-face with locked eyes. Let’s have a conversation; where we stop defining ourselves by the pain that once masked us. Let’s go on this journey, you and I. Where we explore the world as warriors of light.

Let’s go deeper, where light no longer hides from darkness, uncertainty, and lies; where inner truths are spoken out loud; surpassing our outside borders. I was taught at an early age the depths of words. I learned the immense weight that can transcend an atmosphere by the expressions, we, as people, use to express what’s hidden, stored, and felt in our hearts. So, I was then left with this question, what impact our words have on the relationships that surround us.

My learned experiences taught me this: Words are learned. Words are remembered. Words are genuine. Words are expressed. Our words tell the real truth about our character. So, never neglect the importance of a real conversation.


1 Year Anniversary

I can hardly believe it today is my one-year anniversary in Korea! Wow, time really flew by! I must say this has been the most exhilarating, life changing, and challenging adventure I’ve ever been on. However, I’ll forever be grateful for this opportunity abroad because it has shaped me in ways I never would have imagined.

Prior to moving to Korea, if you did not know me well, I assume people would have perceived me as someone that was relatively quiet, snobbish, and self-absorbed. In retrospect, I would say people assumptions about me were correct. I was very much to myself and life revolved mainly around me and mine. I would say my biggest identity flaw was the “I” syndrome. Often my siblings and cousins would get mad at me for always thinking about myself and what was convenient for me. (Yeah, I drove a lot of people crazy.) Over time, I realized what caused me to be so consumed with me was the lack of not knowing who I really was–so, instead of investing time on what and who really mattered I focused on trivial things such as, image, apparel, and status.

Untold stories, untold truths, hidden deep within a soul… a voice whispers, awaken the treasures. Reach down into the deepest abyss and capture your truth.

After getting married, I realized I did not need things and praise from others to make me feel complete as a human being. My beloved husband, Micah, has taught me the art of simplicity. I learned how to be content with what I already had and to appreciate the people in my life that I hold dear to my heart. Micah not only taught me the art of simplicity he taught me the beauty of communication. He had this way of pushing me out of my head and helping me put words to my thoughts. He is my Sankofa bird, constantly reminding me to look back from time to time to see what my past has taught me in the wake of my present stage in life.

He speaks truths that awakens my soul. Forever my Sankofa Bird, my Micah Josiah.
For the past year, I’ve been living abroad in a foreign land. As I already mentioned, it has been the most exhilarating, life changing, and challenging adventure I’ve ever been on. Mainly because, as a foreigner, I constantly have to speak out loud. Whatever I say or do is a cultural exchange for my colleagues, students, and friends. Community is what makes this experience abroad so enriching. The necessity to be honest about who you are, who you allow to surround you and what you want in life, rings like a clanging alarm. If not careful or aware of these things, I can slowly become self-absorbed again. Therefore, my community keeps me upright and authentic in all that I say or do. The realization that no matter what, you are a leader worth paying attention to, and what makes the attention either good or bad is completely up to you.

The greatest lesson that life abroad has taught me is the intensity to love.
Over the past 12 months, my heart has swelled for young children that are completely foreign but so welcoming and appreciative towards me. Of course, I had students that were the complete opposite. But the love that pressed my heart made me work harder to somehow reach them and build some type of rapport with them. There have also been people that found me, and I found them from all different parts of the world. Together we all had to bypass the barriers of language, culture, and customs to reach the truest sense of ourselves. These exploits in community have never been easy. The love and security we have found in each other have kept us pressing forward in the direction of change to dissipate our frailties that have kept us lost in our past rather than intentional about our present and future.


The intensity to love, the art of simplicity, the beauty in communication and the enriching experience of community. All of these lessons have shaped me by making me better as a woman, wife, daughter, sister, friend, and teacher. I’m grateful for this opportunity; life is more vibrant and real because of it. What else can I say but thank you Korea and all of you that read this blog and spend time uplifting my spirit.

Signing Out,

Friday, February 17, 2017

~Esther Lynn~