Sunday Sessions: It’s a Beautiful Day

There’s a song I think we’ve all heard at least once in passing, whether on social media, in reels, or shorts:

“Lord, thank you for sunshine, thank you for rain. Thank you for joy, thank you for pain. It’s a beautiful day. It’s a beautiful day.”

I haven’t been on social media much lately. The constant infighting, the performative outrage, the hypocrisy—none of it holds my attention anymore. But I keep hearing that snippet of the song, over and over, as if it’s imprinted onto the fabric of my subconscious. In my mind’s eye, I see the words scrolling past like a ticker tape, almost as if this is how God has chosen to translate what I feel deep in my spirit into something tangible, something that makes sense in the 3D.

It’s been a long, difficult stretch—10, maybe 15 years of relentless upheaval. Not just in my own life, but on a much grander scale. The world itself has been unraveling, breaking apart, reforming, repeating. And yet, somehow, despite all the loss, all the grief, all the stretching and reshaping, I keep finding myself drawn back to those lyrics.

Maybe it’s a guiding light. Maybe it’s a confirmation. Maybe it’s just the simple truth—one we forget too easily when we’re in the thick of things:

It’s all a part of the journey.

The Long Way Around to True North

Looking back, I see it clearly. It’s where God has had me focused very precisely this weekend: Even when I felt lost, I was never truly lost. Even when it seemed like everything was falling apart—when death came knocking, when heartbreak and betrayal swallowed me whole, when depression left me empty—there was something else moving beneath it all. Something unseen, but steady. A presence that never left me, even when I couldn’t recognize it for what it was.

I didn’t realize it then, but I was being taken apart piece by piece. Every illusion, every false attachment, every version of myself that wasn’t aligned with truth was stripped away. Some pieces I lost. Others were set aside for later, waiting to be transformed into something stronger. And now, for the first time, I can see the full picture of what was happening.

I was being rebuilt. Upgraded.

The process isn’t always gentle. It doesn’t always make sense when you’re in the middle of it. But when the dust settles, maybe even just enough—even when there are still things being tinkered and rearranged by God behind the scenes and the picture is not quite complete, you reach a point of realization that nothing was random. Every hardship, every delay, every “wrong turn” was actually part of the blueprint—one meticulously designed to bring you into alignment with your true North.

And this is true for all of us.

The Breaking & The Becoming

Growth isn’t something we can control. It’s something that happens to us, whether we want it to or not, and if we are on the right path, it is never ending. Whether we surrender or fight it, life will shape us. We are molded by fire, refined by pressure, sharpened by adversity.

The thing is, once we start waking up—truly waking up—we begin to realize that the old world no longer fits. The conversations feel shallow. The relationships feel forced. The expectations of who we’re supposed to be start to feel suffocating.

We lose friends.

We become the black sheep in our families.

We get labeled as “too much” or “too different” or “too intense.”

I mention this because I do not want you to become discouraged. If this is where you are, or have been, or maybe you just find yourself in this space one day, do not become discouraged. Because none of that matters.

Why not? Because at the end of the day, we weren’t put here to serve the approval of others. We weren’t meant to blend in, to shrink ourselves into a version of who we once were just to make other people comfortable.

We exist for God.

That is what those not on the true path, the righteous path, don’t understand. This path, this transformation, this constant evolution—it’s not about us. It’s about what God has commanded us to do. And when we truly honor Him, we will not fit in. We—those who have chosen this path of serving God and not Self—will not be accepted by those who refuse to see. And that’s okay.

Because the truth is, people don’t reject us because we’ve changed.

They reject us because our growth exposes the ways they refuse to grow.

The Shock Factor & The Unraveling of Perception

People like to believe they have you figured out. It makes them feel safe. It makes them feel in control.

But when you evolve—when you step into a version of yourself they never saw coming—it rattles them. It forces them to confront the reality that they never really knew you at all. And that kind of realization? It’s uncomfortable.

So they react. They project. They judge. They say you’ve “changed,” as if that’s an accusation. They act as if your growth is a personal attack on them.

But here’s the thing: People don’t hate change. They just hate your change when it forces them to see how stagnant they’ve become.

They’ll say:

“I miss the old you.”

What they really mean is: “I miss when your existence didn’t make me question my own.”

They’ll say:

“You think you’re better than everyone else.”

What they really mean is: “Your confidence reminds me of how much I doubt myself.”

They’ll say:

“You’re too much now.”

What they really mean is: “I liked it better when you were small enough for me to manage.”

People will try to tell you who you are, but the truth is, they don’t even know who they are.

And you? You don’t owe them an explanation.

Keep Moving. Keep Becoming.

The truth is, your evolution will always be an “ongoing issue” for some people. Because they expect you to stay the same. They want to stay the same. They want you to fit inside the box they built for you. They want the comfort of knowing that you will always be predictable, always be manageable, always be the version of you that made them comfortable.

But that’s not who you are.

You are ever-changing. You are ever-growing.

You are in a constant cycle of death and rebirth.

And that is divine.

Not everyone will understand you. Not everyone will support you. Some will be threatened by your evolution. Some will walk away. Let them. Their leaving does not define you. Their discomfort does not mean you are on the wrong path.

You are breaking cycles.

You are shifting the stagnant energy.

You are walking in the light.

And so, at the end of it all, even after the storms, the betrayals, the losses, the pain—

“Lord, thank you for sunshine, thank you for rain. Thank you for joy, thank you for pain. It’s a beautiful day. It’s a beautiful day.”

Yes. Because it is. Always.

Even when it hurts.

Even when you stand alone.

Even when the path isn’t clear.

It’s a beautiful day.

And you are exactly where you’re meant to be.