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There are people who give you life…and then there are people who save it. Pastor James and Mearlene Jackson,you were my shield before I knew what warfare was.My parents before I understood what absence meant.My safe place when I needed one the most. You didn’t just raise me—you stood in the gap for me. When the world could’ve swallowed me whole, you wrapped me in prayer, discipline, love, and consistency. You showed up every day, not because it was easy, but because it was necessary. You didn’t ask questions. You didn’t hesitate. You stepped in and became everything I needed when life demanded parents and God sent grandparents instead. Granddaddy, you covered me with wisdom, structure, and faith that didn’t flinch. You taught me that God wasn’t just someone you talked about on Sundays—He was someone you leaned on daily. Your voice, your sermons, your prayers still echo in my spirit. Even now, I hear you reminding me to stand tall, speak truth, and trust God when things don’t make sense. Grandmother, you loved me with a strength that felt soft but held steel underneath. You nurtured me, protected me, corrected me, and prayed for me in ways I didn’t understand until adulthood. You taught me what it meant to love deeply, give freely, and still keep your boundaries firm. Your hands were gentle, but your prayers were fierce. Together, you gave me stability when life felt uncertain.You gave me faith before fear could take root.You gave me home when I needed it most. Losing you feels like losing the people who knew every version of me—before the titles, before the accomplishments, before the scars. You saw me when I was just a little girl trying to find her footing, and you believed in me long before I believed in myself. Some people say grandparents are a bonus. But you were not a bonus. You were my foundation. Thank you for being my parents when I needed parents.Thank you for being my shield when I couldn’t protect myself.Thank you for loving me in a way that shaped who I became. I carry you with me—in my faith, my voice, my strength, and my purpose.Your legacy didn’t end when you left this earth.It lives in me. Forever grateful.Forever covered.Forever your Anna-Girl, Kick, Baby Girl

If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways. Then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land. (2 Chronicles 7:14/KJV) WHAT’S DA (CHURCH’S) 411  OM-GREAT READ!!!! As part of Making Headline News’ advance national coverage ahead of Sarah Jakes Roberts’ Third Annual Woman Evolve Conference July 31 through August 2 from Atlanta, Georgia, Kyina Routt admittedly can’t pinpoint exactly when God strategically equipped the Conroe, Texas-based author with the awe-inspiring vision to compose First Lady Games, the debut installment of Routt’s The Church Chronicles series that set off a fervent buzz across various message boards and social media platforms.  DALLAS — Shelia Faye Douglas was amongst the first individuals earlier this week to hasten to social media, where she announced the latest milestone stone surrounding her first love, Kyina Routt. “My oldest daughter, Kyina Routt…please, please share one of her many accolades,” Douglas said via Facebook just as midday CST on Monday. That to which Douglas was alluding is the forthcoming release of First Lady Games, the debut installment of Routt’s The Church Chronicles series that set off a fervent buzz across various message boards and social media platforms. “Expect faith, fire, and unapologetic Black excellence woven into every page,” Routt via Facebook approximately 90 minutes before her mother’s spirited social media announcement surfaced. BUY ROUTT’S BOOK: https://kyinarouttnovels.com/ FOR STARTERS — According to Routt, such a riveting, spiritually-empowering written work, by all accounts, essentially was jumpstarted by way of what she appropriately describes as “honest” conversations. As part of Making Headline News’ advance national coverage ahead of Sarah Jakes Roberts’ Third Annual Woman Evolve Conference July 31 through August 2 from Atlanta, Georgia, Routt admittedly can’t pinpoint exactly when God strategically equipped the Conroe, Texas-based author with the awe-inspiring vision to compose a book that figures to help advance — and, of course, turn heads throughout — the kingdom for years to come. “It felt more like He’s been giving me little pieces (for the book) over the years through life experiences, conversations, even quiet moments,” Routt told MHN. “And recently, it all just started coming together. That’s when I knew it was time to write the book. The vision had always been there, but now the message was clear.” Routt’s First Lady Games is currently in the presale order phase and will officially debut May 9 and will available via https://kyinarouttnovels.com/ and where books are sold. NEED NATIONAL MEDIA EXPOSURE? CALL TODAY: 901.690.6587 HERE’S THE REASON –— “The Church Chronicles was born from a desire to pull back the curtain and show the real lives behind the pews — messy, beautiful, faith-filled, and flawed,” said Routt, explaining the divine purpose behind the book. “It’s about truth, grace, and giving voice to what’s often left unspoken in church spaces.” According to Routt, such a riveting, spiritually-empowering written work, by all accounts, essentially was jumpstarted by way of what she appropriately describes as “honest” conversations. “The Church Chronicles was born from a desire to pull back the curtain and show the real lives behind the pews — messy, beautiful, faith-filled, and flawed,” said Routt, explaining the divine purpose behind the book. “It’s about truth, grace, and giving voice to what’s often left unspoken in church spaces.” Interestingly enough, Routt began the legwork for First Lady Games while pursuing higher education, overseeing the day-to-day operations of her businesses, and fulfilling essential obligations to her employer. Regardless, she was destined to complete her heaven-mandated assignment until her published masterpiece had become a long-awaited reality. Mission accomplished. “Writing became my late-night escape,” Routt recalls. “The house would be quiet, and I’d be up thinking, praying, trying not to disturb my husband with the light from my phone. I finished it much later once life finally slowed down and the vision came full circle. My husband didn’t even know I wrote a book until I had finished it, and his mom was my manuscript.” Routt witnessed her authorship debut come full circle in 2017 when she composed Plan, Develop and Launch. There is, she recalls, a backstory behind her initial book. “Most people don’t know this, but I actually wrote (that) little book back in 2017,” Routt said. “It was only about 32 pages — something I did on a whim just to see if I could. I didn’t promote it because it wasn’t really the kind of story I wanted to tell long-term, but I’ve been thinking about rewriting and republishing it with fresh eyes.” In the meantime, though, Routt doesn’t shy away from the notion that God undoubtedly has enlarged her territory, courtesy of a remarkably incredible book that, much to her delight, figures to help enrich and empower lives for years to come. “So far, the only person who’s read the full manuscript of First Lady Games is my mother-in-love (in-law),” Routt told MHN while chuckling. “She swears the characters remind her of William (my husband) and I, which had me side-eyeing her real hard. Yes, my husband and I have a love story, but this is not it. Me a First Lady — not my path…I pray. Still, that just shows how real I tried to make the characters feel to people. Her feedback has been full of laughter and reflection. Let’s just say she was ready to fight the church’s aunties by the time she got to His Favorite Drumbeat (Book 3).” MASSIVE MUST-READ JUST A GLIMPSE — “Expect faith, fire, and unapologetic Black excellence woven into every page,” Routt via Facebook approximately 90 minutes before her mother’s spirited social media announcement surfaced. PUTTIN’ WORK — Interestingly enough, Routt began the legwork for First Lady Games while pursuing higher education, overseeing the day-to-day operations of her businesses, and fulfilling essential obligations to her employer. Continued Routt: “I truly believe God created me to be a storyteller, one who bridges the gap between truth and grace. This book is part of that calling. The Church Chronicles shines a light on how some in the older generation, though well-meaning, can make the younger generation feel judged instead of welcomed. God didn’t call us to be gatekeepers.

They told you the church was your safe haven—your refuge, your family, your place of rest. You showed up in your Sunday best, stiletto heels clicking down the aisle, heart open wide, ready to be embraced. But instead, you felt the sting of sidelong glances. You heard whispers behind the hymnals. You felt the chill of judgment when you didn’t fit their mold. Church hurt isn’t a soft bruise you can ignore; it’s the split-your-sole kind of pain that echoes long after the preacher says “Amen.” It’s the betrayal when sisters trade compassion for gossip. It’s the hypocrisy of leaders who preach grace but practice politics. It’s the aching void when you realize the people you trusted to hold you up were the ones who let you fall. I’ve been there—in those hollow pews, with a heavy heart and a dying ember of faith. I remember clutching my Bible so tight my knuckles turned white, begging God to show Himself in the midst of all that brokenness. But in those dark moments, I learned something fierce and undeniable: faith isn’t built on perfect people; it’s forged in the fires of real, raw survival. The Wounds That Cut Deep Leadership FailuresWhen those ordained to shepherd you become judges instead, every misstep feels magnified. You loved the message until the messenger betrayed your trust. Whispers and WatchersYou feel their eyes like a thousand needles as you walk in. Are you too loud? Too bold? Not holy enough? And those murmured critiques sting sharper than any sermon. Broken Promises“We’ll pray for you,” they said, but the calls never came. “We’re here if you need us,” they promised—yet you sat alone in tears, wondering if you’d ever belong. From Ashes to Armor Yes, church hurt can feel like the devil’s playground—but you’re not his victim. You’re a warrior in heels, and your faith is your fiercest weapon. Here’s how to rise: The Redemption of the Journey Church hurt can feel like a tomb—dark, cold, and unyielding. But remember, the tomb didn’t have the final word on resurrection. Neither will your pain. As you stitch your heart back together, you’ll discover a deeper, more authentic faith—not dependent on perfect people but rooted in a perfect God. So step out of those pews when you need to. Step back in when your spirit whispers it’s time. Until then, carry your Bible like armor, your tears like baptism, and your faith like a flame that can never be extinguished. You are more than church hurt—you are the stunning masterpiece God has been crafting all along. Stand tall, sister. Your healing is coming, and your story will blaze trails for every woman who’s ever felt wounded in a holy place. Amen, and let’s walk this healing journey together—in stilettos, with heads held high.

For years, I was told that being a “good girl” would save me. That if I went to church every Sunday, smiled through the hardships, and kept my life “clean” — free from mistakes and mess — then I would be blessed. I would avoid the hard stuff, the pain, and the struggle. I was told that if I just checked off all the right boxes, faith would shield me from the weight of the world. But what happens when life doesn’t play by the rules? What happens when you do everything you’re supposed to do, and yet life hits you like a ton of bricks? I’m here to tell you that it’s time we stop living in the illusion that perfection will protect us from the trials and tribulations that are a part of the human experience. This ain’t your grandma’s church, and it’s time we start embracing the truth about faith and the power of going through the fire. The Good Girl Illusion There’s a certain comfort in the “good girl” narrative. You’re told to follow the rules, sit pretty, don’t make waves, and everything will fall into place. It sounds simple enough. Go to church, say your prayers, help others, and you’ll be good. You’ll be rewarded. Right? But what about the days when you do everything right, and life still falls apart? What about the days when you show up for others, and no one shows up for you? What about the nights when you pray, only to feel like your prayers are bouncing off the walls? This is the side of faith no one talks about — the moments when doing everything right doesn’t seem to protect you from the world’s chaos. The truth is, life isn’t about following a set of rules and receiving a neat reward at the end. Faith isn’t a transaction. It’s not a guarantee that if you show up every Sunday with your perfect outfit and a smile on your face, you’ll never face heartbreak, loss, or struggle. We are taught to go through the motions of faith, but what happens when the motions don’t save us? The Motion vs. The Truth For too long, the message I received was about going through the motions of faith. Show up. Sit in the pew. Sing the songs. Say the right words. But somewhere along the way, I realized that these motions were empty if they weren’t backed by something deeper. Faith isn’t about going through the motions; it’s about living through the motions with authenticity, with rawness, and with a willingness to face the storms head-on. True faith isn’t about perfection. It’s about perseverance. It’s about showing up even when you don’t feel like it, even when you don’t have the answers. It’s about leaning on God when the world feels like it’s falling apart and trusting that He is with you even when it feels like He’s not. True faith is about understanding that the trials and tribulations are part of the journey, not the enemy’s punishment for your mistakes. Prayer and Overcoming Trials You were taught that prayer was the answer to everything. Say the right words, pray the right prayers, and God will bless you, protect you, and keep you safe. But there’s a truth about prayer that no one tells you. Prayer isn’t a magic formula. It’s not a guarantee that everything will always be okay. Prayer doesn’t remove the struggle — it empowers you to endure it. Prayer doesn’t stop the storm, but it anchors you in the midst of it. Prayer is the conversation between you and God where you lay your heart bare, speak your truth, and trust that He’s listening. But sometimes, prayer means crying out in frustration, not knowing how things will turn out, and still trusting that God has a plan. Prayer isn’t about avoiding the hard times — it’s about finding the strength to go through them, knowing that on the other side, you’ll come out stronger, wiser, and more connected to your purpose. Breaking the Cycle of Perfection For too long, the church has perpetuated the idea that being a “good Christian” means being perfect. It means having it all together, being the epitome of grace, and keeping it all locked behind a smile. But real faith isn’t about perfection. It’s about being raw, being real, and learning to embrace the struggle. It’s time we stop pretending that faith is about going through the motions. It’s about living with authenticity, acknowledging that the path won’t always be smooth, and leaning into God when the world doesn’t make sense. The truth is, we all go through trials. And those trials are not signs of God’s neglect — they are opportunities for us to deepen our faith and trust that we serve a God who is with us through it all. The Bottom Line This ain’t your grandma’s church, and I’m thankful for it. I’m thankful that I’ve learned that faith isn’t about following rules and avoiding hardship. It’s about having the strength to stand in the storm, to pray when it feels like your prayers are unheard, and to trust in the process even when it doesn’t make sense. Faith is about knowing that God is working in the midst of our pain, using our struggles to shape us into who He’s called us to be. So, stop living in the illusion of perfection. Embrace your journey, flaws and all. Walk in faith, not because it guarantees an easy life, but because it empowers you to thrive in the midst of adversity. Let go of the motions, and start living the truth behind real faith. And trust me, when you do, you’ll find a strength and resilience you never knew you had.

Growing up, my life wasn’t what many would call “normal.” I wasn’t raised by my mother or surrounded by my siblings. Instead, I was raised by my father’s parents — my grandparents. And while I didn’t always have my mother’s arms around me, I always had my grandparents’ love. Their love wasn’t just given; it was a fierce, unconditional kind of love, one that carried me through a childhood that could have felt like abandonment. My grandparents gave me the tools I needed to know God — not just as a distant figure in the sky but as a real, personal presence in my life. They showed me how to pray, how to trust, and how to never stop believing, even when the world seemed to be falling apart around me. Their unwavering faith became my foundation, and their love became the shelter where I could find peace amid the storm. But still, there was this gnawing feeling inside me — that I wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough for my mother, who couldn’t raise me (No fault to her). I wasn’t enough for my father’s family, who loved me but couldn’t take away the emptiness I felt inside. It wasn’t their fault — they gave me everything they could — but still, I struggled to feel like I truly belonged, like I was truly enough. Meeting Love: Not Easy, But Real Then came him — the one who would change my life forever. I wasn’t looking for love. I was still carrying so many scars, so many walls around my heart, that love seemed like a foreign concept. But when I met him, I realized love wasn’t just a fairy tale. It was messy. It was raw. And it was real. Our love didn’t come easy. It didn’t come wrapped in perfection or without its share of struggles. It was a love that saw me for who I truly was — broken, yet strong. It saw my fears, my scars, my insecurities, and chose to love me anyway. And as I let him in, I began to learn what it really meant to be loved — not for who I thought I should be, but for who I really was. I learned that love isn’t about perfection. It’s about seeing each other in our mess, choosing each other anyway, and walking through the trials of life together. 24 Years of Trials, but Unfailing Love People said it wouldn’t last. At 18, I said, “I do,” and they said we were too young, too naïve, too full of dreams that would eventually shatter. But they didn’t know what we had. They didn’t see the strength of the love that was built not on a whim, but on faith. We’ve been through 24 years of ups and downs — financial struggles, health scares, personal heartbreaks — but through it all, love never failed. Our love didn’t crumble under pressure. It didn’t fade when things got hard. It grew stronger. It anchored us. It wasn’t always easy, but it was always real. And through the storms, I’ve learned that love is less about perfection and more about resilience. It’s about choosing to love each other day after day, even when it’s hard, even when we don’t have all the answers. It’s about faith, not just in God, but in each other. Always Fitting In, Always Enough One of the hardest things I ever had to come to terms with was feeling like an outsider in so many places. But when it came to my father’s family, I always fit in. I always felt loved and accepted. They never made me feel like I was missing something, and their love was a constant reminder that I was always enough. No matter how the world saw me — no matter how often I felt like I didn’t belong — my father’s family gave me the security of knowing that I had a place. They showed me what it meant to be loved without conditions, to be accepted as I was, and to be rooted in faith. Their love became my anchor, just as my husband’s love became my home. And through all the moments of doubt, I’ve learned that home isn’t just a place. It’s a feeling. Home is where my heart is, and my heart has always been with my husband. Together, we built a life — not based on fitting into the mold’s others created for us — but based on the love, faith, and trust we share. The Journey of Faith, Family, and Love Looking back, I realize that my journey was never about trying to fit in. It was never about being perfect or following someone else’s blueprint for life. It was about discovering who I truly am — who God called me to be — and embracing it fully. It was about finding a love that saw me as I am — broken but whole, scared but strong. It was about building a family with my husband, grounded in faith, not perfection. We didn’t need to meet anyone’s expectations. We just needed to trust God’s plan for us. The love we have isn’t perfect, but it is real. And with God at the center of it all, I know that no matter what trials we face, love will never fail us. It hasn’t failed us in 24 years, and I have no doubt it will continue to guide us for many more. So to anyone out there who feels like they don’t fit in, or who’s searching for love that never seems to come — know this: You are enough. You always have been. No matter your past, no matter the struggles you’ve faced, you are worthy of love. And when you trust in God’s plan and hold on to faith, love will find you — and it will never fail you.

Being a Black Christian woman in today’s world often feels like walking a tightrope. On one side, there’s the weight of tradition — the Church mothers who love the idea of a “nice Christian woman,” one who fits neatly into their pre-packaged version of humility and grace. But then there’s the other side: the real world, where survival is a game of strength, resilience, and unyielding faith. And in this world, the rules are anything but simple. Let me be clear: I don’t fit into that neat little box they try to put us in. The one where Christian woman is soft-spoken, meek, and always wrapped in a veil of unshakable purity. I don’t speak in whispers or keep my opinions to myself for the sake of peace. I’ve learned to raise my voice and make my presence known. My faith isn’t a quiet, submissive act — it’s a roar that echoes through every battle I’ve fought, every storm I’ve survived. I was raised with a deep, unshakable love for God, a love that runs deep within my bones. But somewhere along the way, I learned that loving God doesn’t mean shrinking myself to fit into someone else’s mold. Being a Black Christian woman means embracing every part of who I am — the fire, the ambition, the sensuality, and the fierce, unapologetic strength that comes with surviving the battles I’ve fought. I’ve walked through hell in stilettos, and I’m here to tell you that faith doesn’t look like what they expect it to look like. The Devil Knows My Name I know I’m not the only one who’s had to challenge the expectations placed on us. We’re told that we should be subservient, quiet, the quiet strength that never makes waves. But what happens when your voice is your power? What happens when the story God has written for you doesn’t follow the rules they’ve set? I’ll tell you what happens — you start to break free. Yes, I am saved. Yes, I believe in God’s grace and mercy, but I also know that in a world that’s determined to strip me of my power, I’m not going to let the devil take what God gave me. I’m a warrior, and I don’t just stand still — I move. Every day, I put on my armor, and that armor is a fierce pair of stilettos, ready to step on the devil’s head. I don’t just pray for victory; I walk in it. I don’t just talk about faith; I live it with intention. And when I walk into a room, the ground trembles because my faith is loud, unapologetic, and full of fire. Embracing the Divine Feminine I’ve learned to love myself unapologetically. To embrace my Black womanhood with the same intensity I embrace my faith. I’m not just a woman of God; I’m a woman of power, resilience, and beauty. I was made to shine. God didn’t create me to shrink back, to remain silent in the face of injustice, to let my light be dimmed because someone else doesn’t understand it. I’ve been told too many times that a woman of God shouldn’t be too much. Not too loud. Not too bold. But let me tell you something — I am all of those things and more. Because, my dear, God didn’t call me to be small. He called me to be mighty. He called me to break chains, to fight for my faith and my future, to step boldly into spaces where I was never meant to be. And when I do, I don’t ask for permission. From Survivor to Thriver Survival is a word that means more to me than just getting by. It’s about thriving through the storms. When I look back at the challenges I’ve faced — from systemic racism to emotional heartbreak to spiritual warfare — I can say one thing with certainty: I survived. And not only did I survive, but I thrived. I built a legacy. I kept my faith intact. I turned my pain into power and my trials into triumphs. The world may want me to be quiet, but my heart screams victory. Stepping into My Purpose There’s a power in embracing your full, authentic self — even when that self doesn’t fit the mold of what the world expects. We were not created to blend in. We were created to stand out, to break barriers, to step boldly into the life that God has designed for us. When we are faithful to who we are, we are faithful to the God who created us. And that faith, that unshakable belief in our purpose, will lead us to greatness. So, when you see me walking into my destiny — don’t just see the high heels or the elegance. See the warrior within, the woman who refuses to be anything less than what God has called me to be. I may not fit the idea of a “nice Christian woman,” but I do fit the description of a woman who knows her worth, who is unafraid to walk through fire, and who will always, always step on the devil’s head in stilettos.