I am a Texas girl, born and raised. In 2013, I met my Mississippi husband at a conference in Orlando. I had just graduated from Thomas Edison State University (online) and was there with my parents. I was still living at home with my eight younger siblings and loving every moment of the time I got to spend with them. Phillip and I got married in October of 2014, and, after a loss later that year, we welcomed our son Walter Wynn in 2016. Our secondborn, Ezra Langston, arrived in December of 2018.
I’m a teacher. As soon as I graduated, I started teaching sixth-grade humanities and Latin. I’ve taught every grade from Pre-K to 12th, and there are things that I love about each and every stage, but I have a soft spot for middle schoolers.
I’m a writer. My second book, Mother to Son: Letters to a Black Boy on Identity and Hope, was released in March of 2020. My first book was published when I was twenty; it’s out of print, now, but I still blush a little whenever anyone brings it up. Reading a book you wrote when you were nineteen is a bit like hearing yourself on a recording for the first time: “Is that really my voice?” Since then, I’ve blogged on The Gospel Coalition, Desiring God, Fathom Mag, Modern Reformation, and The Witness. I’ve also contributed to Identity Theft: Reclaiming the Truth of Our Identity in Christ and His Testimonies, My Heritage: Women of Color on the Word of God.
I’m curently working on a book about inspiring black women of the faith. The best way to keep up with upcoming projects is via Patreon.
I’m a pastor’s kid. In the parable of the prodigal son, I’m definitely the do-good “older brother” who used to think she had everything under control. Throughout my twenty-year walk with the Lord, I’ve been reminded time and again of my need for Christ — through two miscarriage, through post-partum depression, through two cross-country moves in two years.
The focus of my writing and speaking is identity. I understand what it is like to endure an identity crisis. For most of my life, I’ve wrestled with pretending to have a neat and tidy checklist of how I’m supposed to present myself to the world.
I’m beginning to understand that my security can’t come from the external checklist or the opinions of others; it has to be found in the finished work of Jesus Christ, who is equipped to handle the messiness I tried to hide.