Grace is always on time.

Even when I'm not.

Hello, you.

First, I owe you an apology. I was supposed to send the last two chapters of Call Me Onyi and I didn’t. I also planned to write you on Easter Sunday… that didn’t happen either. And the reason is simple (though not really excusable): I got overwhelmed and instead of pushing through, I disappeared—which isn’t fair to you, especially when you’ve been so patient and supportive. I'm truly sorry for leaving you hanging.

One thing I’ve noticed about myself—and maybe you can relate—is that whenever life gets too loud, I tend to retreat. I run from whatever I was doing, and from whoever I was trying to become. I stop answering. I ghost the very things that once brought me joy. It’s not brave or healthy, neither is it intentional or dramatic—it’s just what I’ve done for a long time. And I’m slowly learning to stay, to sit with the overwhelm instead of disappearing from it.

Another honest confession? When anxiety hits, I binge-eat. A lot. It’s like my brain goes, “Stress level: critical. Initiate snack protocol.” Like, "We're spiralling? okay, let's go and buy chips" And it’s not exactly a wise habit—emotionally, physically, or financially (especially when my bank account is already side-eyeing me). I’ve been asking myself lately: am I the only one who does this? Because it can feel awfully isolating. If you’ve been there too—if your coping mechanism also shows up in snack wraps and regret—know you’re not alone. And if you’ve found a kinder way to handle the hard days, please share. I’m listening.

Now, about Easter.

I’ve been thinking about how much our generation carries this unspoken rule: *“If your life isn’t what you want, it’s because you haven’t fixed it.”* We’re taught to depend on our own strength, our own grit. Just the other night, I watched a video of someone saying, “Things won’t get better unless I make them better.”

And… maybe there’s a bit of truth in that. Responsibility and all. But…while I understand the appeal of that kind of self-empowerment, something about it unsettles me.

Because I’m only human. My strength has limits. My understanding has gaps. I get tired. I forget. I get stuck. And sometimes, I can’t fix it. I can’t make things better, no matter how hard I try. And God forbid my life depended solely on me…I’d be in serious trouble. And maybe that makes me sound lazy to some, but I don’t think it is. I believe in effort, yes, like mad—but I also believe in God. My Bible tells me not to lean on my own understanding or strength. And to be honest, if I did, I’d fall flat every single time.

I don’t know about you, but I need grace. I need help. I need God. I need something beyond myself for my life to truly get better. And maybe you don’t feel the same way—and that’s okay. But as for me, I’ve tried to do it all alone, and I’ve learned: my strength will only take me so far.

And Easter is the loudest reminder that I have both grace and help.

That’s why Easter matters so much to me.

Imagine if we had to carry it all on our own. If we had to clean up our messes before we were worthy of love. If grace wasn’t freely given. Imagine if Jesus hadn’t made the ultimate sacrifice—if we had to carry the weight of our own sin, redeem ourselves, save ourselves. Where would that leave us? Where would that leave me?

"But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

—Romans 5:8

That verse undoes me every time. Because it tells me: I don’t have to be enough—He already is. I don’t have to fix myself—He will. He already has. I don’t have to hustle for grace—it’s already mine.

Easter reminds me that I don’t have to do life on my own. That grace was extended long before I knew I’d need it. That help exists beyond the four walls of my willpower. That God steps in where I end. And honestly, I don’t know how I’d still be standing without that.

So maybe this isn’t just a letter of apology. Maybe it’s also a thank-you note—for grace, for second chances, and for you, still here, still reading.

Call Me Onyi is still coming. The last chapters are on their way. And trust me, the ending? Someone’s getting a second chance they never saw coming.

Again, thank you for sticking with me, even when I drop the ball. I’ll do better. And if you’ve ever felt overwhelmed like me, know you’re not alone—and you don’t have to rely on your own strength, either.

I love you and God loves you more!🥺💕

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P.S.What’s one way you’ve experienced grace lately? Hit the comment section, I’d love to hear.

P.P.S. If you’ve been ashamed of being tired, or unsure how to move forward, me too. You’re not alone.

P.P.P.S."My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness."

—2 Corinthians 12:9❤️