Christ didn’t come to replace my ancestry. He came to walk beside it. He didn’t land in my field by accident. He found me because my bloodline held the themes he came to help unlock.

I thought the void was failure. Turns out, it was pre-creation. A space not to run from, but to be held by. Not where dreams are made—where they’re conceived.

You don’t heal by exiling your ego — you heal by giving it a seat, pouring it tea, and reminding it who’s at the wheel now.
This is the story of Kira, Samantha, and what happens when your fragments stop fighting and start remembering.