It’s like someone who cannot swim.

God pushed me into the deep.

“I was pushed hard, so that I was falling, but the LORD helped me.” (Psalm 118:13, ESV).

He pushed me so that I was falling into the deep end of the pool.

I guess this type of repentance and pruning is me learning how to finally swim and drive on the freeway all in the same day.

Lord, breathe through me, as me, because I cannot breathe for myself. (Genesis 2:7; Job 33:4, ESV).

I prayed to go from glory to glory to glory. When I first started praying this two years ago, my sister said it scared her that I was praying to go from glory to glory.

Be careful what you pray for.

It may not fall from heaven at that exact moment, but in kairos, God’s appointed time. (Ecclesiastes 3:1, ESV).

Steve Harvey once said in a motivational speech that when you pray to God, it comes immediately. But you have to remain on Faith Street. The moment you step off and turn onto Doubt Street, it’s like UPS delivering the package that is your blessing, the very thing you prayed for. The package arrives at Faith Street, but no one is there because you’re no longer in position. You’re standing on Doubt Street. God knows where you are, but you have stepped away from where He called you to stand. Faith remains the posture. (Hebrews 11:1; James 1:6–8, ESV).

This is my public repentance.

My public apology.

As my four year old daughter says, something I will one day turn into a book written by her but authored by my hand:

“Sorry doesn’t mean much. Say you apologize.”

I looked up the definition of apology:

Apology: A sincere acknowledgment of an offense or failure, expressing remorse and taking responsibility with the intention of making amends.

Then I looked up sorry:

Sorry: Feeling regret, sadness, or sympathy because of something that has happened.

Notice the difference.

One acknowledges responsibility.

The other merely describes a feeling.

She’s four years old, but she’s sharp. Surely to be in the Olympics and a civil engineer. That’s what I am molding her for.

Watch me work.

Here it is.

I don’t care about public image.

So when someone violates me, whether I am at church or anywhere else, like the Drake song, 0 to 100, I do just that.

ABBA,

I sincerely apologize for disrespecting Your church, Your Bride.

You have been nothing but gracious, merciful, faithful, and sovereign to me.

As I live out John 21, Philippians 4:13, Ezekiel 36:30, and Jeremiah 29:11–14 (ESV).

In real time, these Scriptures are the call I am not merely walking out.

I am running.

Forgive me.

What grieves me most is someone violating me while my cub was present.

I am a true lioness.

When it happened on what I later discovered was Joel’s fourteenth year death anniversary, the day before Resurrection Sunday, it was as if they had to meet my twin.

My biggest argument from the people closest to me concerning Your Bride, the very place I disrespected, was this:

“How are you Ezra for this church? Do they know you’re really Tete? Do they know you smoke marijuana, drink white wine, cuss, and stripped nude? That you’re double minded? Don’t forget who you are. Tiara, you’ll always just be Cali Green.”

But I submit.

I surrender.

For “what no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined… God has prepared for those who love Him.” (1 Corinthians 2:9, ESV).

Even in my lack of repentance, You placed my book in the library.

You booked me for my first paid mental health convention.

Father, forgive me.

I am truly apologetic.

Not to man.

Not to a building.

Because Father, You are beyond the church.

But to You.

My Father.

My best friend.

For everyone else is merely an acquaintance.

I no longer have friends.

As I write these words, You test the heart.

You know my heart.

And just like David, I, Tiara, am a woman after Your own heart. (Acts 13:22, ESV).

It doesn’t have to make sense to anyone.

The world doesn’t have to agree with the calling You have placed upon my life.

I no longer need their opinion.

Thank You for delivering me from the opinions of others.

For truly You have built a hedge of protection around me and everyone attached to me. (Job 1:10, ESV).

May everything I touch, write, and speak bring glory to Your name. (1 Corinthians 10:31; Colossians 3:17, ESV).

I thank You that Your promises to me are truly Yes and Amen. (2 Corinthians 1:20, ESV).

You are not like man who changes.

You are the same yesterday, today, and forever. (Hebrews 13:8; Numbers 23:19, ESV).

As I close out June and move into July, I ran through the first house You purchased for me.

I noticed the date.

This home was bought on May 14, 2026.

The very day my first book was released.

When I looked at the deed, I laughed.

Now I’m renting it.

Now I’m renting it.

I ran through this house shouting,

“Glory to God. She doesn’t even know she bought it for me.”

No coincidence.

The owner is also a UNLV alum, Class of 2019.

And I, too, am a two time UNLV alum, Class of 2020 and Class of 2025, now soon to be Class of 2028.

God

How You do what You do, when You do what You doing.

Forgive me.

For I have sinned.

I have disgraced Your name.

I have not been representing the image of God.

And I thank You that You have forgiven me. (1 John 1:9; Psalm 51:10–12, ESV).

This is closure.

This is how I close out.

Through my writing.

I declare this season done.

Now we enter what Pastor Mike Jr. calls,

“The Appraisal Season.”

Thank You, God, that I’m not perfect, but I still get to go to my next.

You didn’t remove me from the Promised Land.

Jehovah you’ve quite literally, doubled down on Your promise, not only to me, but to my children’s children’s children’s children.

Four generations.

For Your Word declares that You show steadfast love to generations of those who love You and keep Your commandments. (Exodus 20:6; Deuteronomy 7:9, ESV).

It is sown.

I believe.

And I receive.

What God has for me, I decree and declare no man can take.

I pray that You will bless me indeed.

That You would enlarge my coast.

That You would enlarge my territory.

That Your hand would be with me.

That You would keep me from harm so that I would be free from pain. (1 Chronicles 4:10, ESV).

Lord, deliver me.

Tiara.

Your faithful daughter.

Your devout servant.

Set me free enough to be me.

So I can take territory.

So I can possess everything You have assigned to me. (Joshua 1:3, 9; Deuteronomy 11:24, ESV).

In Jesus’ mighty name,

Amen.

With my prayer now before God, these are the words I leave with you.

When you see me, and this reminds you of that moment, or all my many moments, forgive me.

For I was once Saul of Tarsus.

But by the grace of God, I now walk in the calling of Paul. (Acts 9; 1 Corinthians 15:10, ESV).

I was blind like Bartimaeus.

But I ain’t begging no more. (Mark 10:46–52, ESV).

I’m not just walking through the Promised Land.

I’m running all the way through it. (Joshua 1:3–9; Hebrews 12:1–2, ESV).

My cup runs over. (Psalm 23:5, ESV).

God has prepared a place for me in His Kingdom in the presence of my enemies. (Psalm 23:5; John 14:2–3, ESV).

Surely the Lord is my Shepherd.

I shall not want. (Psalm 23:1, ESV).

He fulfills the desires of my heart because my delight is in Him. (Psalm 37:4, ESV).

This is that. (Acts 2:16, ESV).

I AM has sent me. (Exodus 3:14, ESV).

I am her.

Hello.

Let me introduce you to the modern day Ezra.