Day: January 20, 2026

Posted in Moments and Musings

Seen, Known, and Included

Posted on by Vikki Lynn Sorensen

This past Sunday, my church held one of those services that stays with you long after it ends. It was a time of anointing with oil, prayer, and words spoken over individuals—words filled with encouragement, affirmation, and God’s tenderness. Even watching online, I could feel the weight and beauty of the moment. The Holy Spirit doesn’t recognize distance, after all.

Because I live more than an hour away, I attend church virtually. I’m grateful for technology, but I’ll be honest—there are moments when watching from a screen can stir a quiet ache. I’m not physically in the room. I’m not standing at the altar. I’m not being anointed or prayed over in the same visible way. And yet, this Sunday reminded me of something deeply important: God is not confined to buildings, stages, or proximity.

As each person went forward and received a word, I found myself rejoicing with them. Truly rejoicing. I felt joy rise up as I watched my brothers and sisters be seen, encouraged, and loved. And then I noticed something else—something subtle but significant.

There was no jealousy in my heart.

That realization stopped me in my tracks, because it hadn’t always been that way.

There was a time when moments like this would have been painful for me. I would have smiled on the outside while quietly shrinking on the inside. I’d think, Why not me? I’d convince myself that God must have forgotten about me or placed me on some invisible list of people who were just… missed. I believed blessings were handed out to those who were better, stronger, more faithful, more put-together.

I assumed I simply didn’t measure up.

But as I watched and rejoiced this time, I sensed God’s gentle voice speak into my heart—not loud or dramatic, but kind and sure:

“Yes, daughter. Take those words for yourself. I know your heart. I see you. What is being spoken over them is for you too.”

I can’t fully explain what that did to me.

In that moment, it felt like God reached right through the screen and straight into my soul. He wasn’t correcting me; He was inviting me. Inviting me to receive without striving. Inviting me to stop disqualifying myself. Inviting me to believe that His love and affirmation are not scarce resources.

Scripture tells us, “The eyes of the Lord range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to Him” (2 Chronicles 16:9). Not those who are perfect. Not those who are visible. Not those who live closest to the church building. Those whose hearts are His.

For far too long, I’ve carried a quiet belief that something about me was fundamentally wrong. That “wrong” followed me like a shadow. I assumed I was always falling short, always behind, always watching others receive what I could only hope for. I compared myself to people who seemed to do everything right, who always had answers, who never appeared to struggle.

But comparison is a heavy burden, and God never asked us to carry it.

Thankfully, that is not how God works.

God does not measure us the way the world does. He does not withhold goodness until we perform well enough. He is not waiting for us to fix ourselves before He loves us. Scripture reminds us, “But God shows His love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).

That truth changes everything.

I am not seen through the lens of my failures, my doubts, or my past. I am seen through the blood of Jesus. Because of Christ, I am fully accepted, fully forgiven, and fully loved. “In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace” (Ephesians 1:7).

There is no hierarchy in God’s family. No favored children and forgotten ones. No inner circle and outer edges. We are all equally known and deeply loved.

“For the Lord your God goes with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you” (Deuteronomy 31:6).

What a comfort that is.

What a gift it is to realize that God sees the quiet ones, the unseen ones, the ones watching from a distance. He sees the heart that longs for Him. He sees the tears no one else notices. He sees the faith that keeps showing up—even online—even from far away—even when it feels small.

And He calls us His.

“See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are” (1 John 3:1).

If you’re reading this and recognizing yourself in these words—if you’ve ever believed that blessings were for everyone else, that you were somehow overlooked or forgotten—I want you to hear this clearly: you are not invisible to God. You are not an afterthought. You are not disqualified.

Sometimes the words spoken over others are also an invitation for us to receive by faith. To say, Yes, Lord, I’ll take that too. To believe that what God is doing in the room, He is also doing in us.

You are seen.
You are known.
You are deeply loved.

And in God’s Kingdom, there is more than enough grace to go around.

Posted in Moments and Musings

Holy Hydration! How I Finally Tamed My Menopause Skin

Posted on by Vikki Lynn Sorensen

Menopause skin is not a skin issue. It’s a hostile takeover. It’s a full-blown coup d’état on your face. One minute, you’re coasting through life with a “fine” complexion, the next, you’re staring into the mirror like, “Who is this dry, desert-dwelling creature staring back at me?”

I’ve been lucky all my life. Dad’s skin? Perfect. Mom’s skin? Flawless. Me? I coasted through life thinking, “Skincare? That’s for teenagers, billionaires, and people who enjoy scented creams.” I never had a routine. Never cared. Never even really thought about it. My face survived on sheer luck, occasional soap, and perhaps some very passive-good genes.

Well…except for that one glorious year when I fancied myself a “mature lady makeup influencer.” That lasted roughly 72 hours—the exact amount of time it takes to realize you can’t survive on a ramen noodle budget and maintain a perfect beauty blog aesthetic. After that, I returned to my blissful ignorance, smugly patting my dry-but-“fine” cheeks.

Then menopause arrived like a villain in a bad soap opera: “SURPRISE! Your skin now belongs to me!”

Driving home from Tennessee recently, the sun hit my face and I thought, “Oily!” My sister was driving—thank God—or insurance claims for distracted face-petting would have been complicated. But when I actually touched my skin… nope. Sahara. Dry. Bone-dry. Cracked. My face was begging for mercy, and I had nothing to give it except guilt and vague promises to try harder.

My sister, ever the practical one, suggested, “Try my moisturizer.”

I nearly collapsed. Moisturizer. On me. The greasy, sticky, slip-and-slide horror I’ve avoided for decades. Hands? Nope. Face? Absolutely not. I’ve spent a lifetime avoiding it like I avoided gym class and small talk with neighbors. But my skin was sobbing, so I caved.

And then…magic. Heaven opened. Angels sang. Birds started performing synchronized flight patterns outside my window. My skin? Baby smooth. Baby. Smooth. I could barely believe it. For decades, I mistook Sahara-level dryness for “soft and supple.” Turns out, those are very different things.

At this point, I realized I might—just might—need a skincare routine. I know. Shocking. I, the person who once considered face soap a luxury, now have a full-blown regimen.

Here’s my current masterpiece of skin maintenance:

Morning Routine:

  • Clean & Clear Morning Burst Oil-Free Gentle Face Wash (because I refuse to waste money—my past self may have been lazy, but my future self is fiscally responsible)
  • Holy Hydration! Nourishing Night Cream (yes, night cream in the morning. No, I don’t care. Yes, it works. Don’t judge.)

Night Routine:

  • Clean & Clear Night Relaxing Oil-Free Face Wash (finishing what I already bought, because throwing away money is a sin I cannot commit)
  • Holy Hydration! Toner
  • Holy Hydration! Triple Bounce Serum*
  • Holy Hydration! Eye Cream
  • Holy Hydration! Night Cream

The results? I’m absolutely shocked. My face feels lighter, smoother, softer, and—brace yourself—supple. Yes. SUPPLE. At 57, I didn’t think “supple” was a possibility. Yet here we are. My face is supple. I check it constantly. Twice. Sometimes three times a day, just to make sure it’s real.

I never thought I’d care about my skin this much. I used to think “skincare” was a conspiracy created by rich people to sell jars of cream and small towels you don’t need. Now? I know better. I know that sometimes, miracles come in vegan, cruelty-free, non-greasy jars, and sometimes, you just have to accept that your face has officially declared war on you and you’re not winning without backup.

Here’s a fun bonus: menopause isn’t just about dry skin. Oh no. It’s a full-body audition for “what can go wrong at the exact same time?” Hot flashes. Mood swings. Random joint pain. And, of course, the Sahara Desert that used to be your cheeks. I now understand why women stockpile moisturizers like canned food during a snowstorm. Survival is key.

So, if you’re dry, cracked, desperate to touch your own face without grimacing, or someone who, like me, thought moisturizer was the enemy, take it from someone who’s been there: e.l.f Cosmetics Holy Hydration! line is your new best friend. It’s vegan, cruelty-free, and apparently capable of performing miracles on faces that have officially declared war on their owners.

Final thought: if you see me glowing like a hydrated raisin at the grocery store, just know—it’s not Photoshop. It’s Holy Hydration. And maybe a little joy that I can finally touch my face without grimacing, cackling at the absurdity of menopause, and silently thanking my sister for saving my cheeks from a lifetime of Sahara dryness.

*I first tried their Bright Icon Vitamin C + E + Ferulic Serum. Smelled like…pork. Yes. PORK. Jimmy Dean sausage, specifically. Sure, I like breakfast, but I do not want to smell like breakfast meat at bedtime. Not even a little. I mean, it seriously confused my dog who loves bacon! So, I went with the Triple Bounce Serum option keeping with the Holy Hydration line.

Disclaimer: I’m not making any money from this—I just really, really like this product. This is simply my honest experience and recommendation from one dry-faced woman to anyone else trying to survive menopause without looking like a raisin.