She woke up singing. Then God Spoke.
In the hush before the day begins, when the world is still asleep and the veil feels thinner, my daughter Norea begins to sing.
It’s barely audible at first — soft notes, somewhere between breath and melody, like a prayer she hasn’t learned and yet somehow knows. I lift her into bed beside me. We nurse, and she curls up next to me. There is no rush. No demand. Just warmth and the quiet thrum of presence. It’s my favorite part of every day. This is the moment I feel closest to God — not because I’m seeking, but because I’ve stopped. And sometimes, in these unguarded spaces, something sacred finds its way in.
That morning, I had been mentally piecing together my day as we snuggled in bed: groceries, client calls, the playground, design work, maybe a moment to write, but then I was interrupted with a whisper:
"You should talk about marketing more."
It came with that soft but persistent knowing that accompanies a seemingly passing thought, a cloud floating across your consciousness, that then grows heavy and releases its waters, soaking you with agency and leaving fertile ground.
I have to admit, this was not the most exciting message I’ve ever received. In the grand scheme of my life, marketing is actually a pretty boring topic. I have a notebooks full of plans for sigil courses, prophetic words on miraculous healings, research that weaves the lineages of giants to the 10th gate and what some call hollow earth, a stack of saint hagiographies waiting to be devoured, and list of questions out to God about the mysteries of our blood. Like, what is it really? What is it doing? What can it do? Why like this?
Marketing? No thanks. Snooze fest.
And for a graphic designer, it’s not like it’s a revolutionary topic. I have to address it whether or not I want to if I want to be effective for my clients. But lately I’ve been noticing that certain viewpoints I share illicit a tangible sigh of relief from my community. What seems like a second nature to me, is actually a huge permission slip for them. It allows them to release unproductive thought forms and find the clarity and energy to move forward.
And I’ve learned that when God whispers, no matter how quiet, no matter how seemingly mundane, you should listen. The word is a gift. Truly. Our ability to hear it and then do something about itchanges everything.
For everyone.
As I mulled all this over and the sun crept its way into our room, I realized that the topic of marketing bores me because at the root of it all, the creativity, energy and effort exerted to connect to those you’re meant to serve—well, I just don’t use the word marketing to describe that.
The thing is, I’ve never really been interested in marketing the way the world taught us. Performance. Noise. Metrics someone else deems important. The manipulation of attention or the architecture of urgency.
No—I’m interested in awakening, initiation, invitation. As reverence. As a holy commission. As the opening of the temple gates.
It’s that kind of aura and reality at the level of the field that’s actually going to connect you to those who are waiting for your gifts.
It was that moment in bed with my daughter that Unveiled was born. Not a product, but a sacred journey. A remembering of how we bring our gifts into the world without scrambling, selling out, or burning out.
Because if the purpose of our life is to get closer to the divine {and it is}, then shouldn’t the work we share, the way we serve, the way we launch, help others do the same?
Unveiled is a 4-week devotional workbook to bring you from idea to launch—ready to share with your community.
But this isn’t your typical launch plan—it’s a holy procession.
While other guides push urgency, optimize for conversion, and drown you in strategy, Unveiling invites you into reverence. It doesn’t ask you to perform. It asks you to pray. To listen. To offer.
You won’t find funnels or formulas here. You’ll find clarity that comes from communion, not comparison. A path that honors your seasonal capacity, your calling, and your creative rhythm.
If traditional launches feel like a trap, this is your exit—and your entrance into something truer.
Inside the Workbook:
Week One: Remember the Spark
Sacred memory over strategy. The original flicker. The divine seed. The calling that was whispered before you were born. You’ll refine your offer, not as a commodity—but as a consecration.
Week Two: Structure as Altar
This is where the vision takes form. You’ll receive outlines, sales copy prompts, and gentle guidance to build a container for your offering—not a funnel, but a vessel worthy of what you carry.
Week Three: Visibility as Vocation
We’ll explore marketing as ministry. Which platforms honor your energy? Which language reveals your truth? You’ll begin to show up as a lighthouse—not a spotlight.
Week Four: Launch as Offering
This is not the climax—it’s the opening of the gates. You’ll map out a sacred launch rhythm, with practical plans wrapped in prayer. You’ll step forward not to prove anything about yourself, but to invite others into your healing energy field. Not to sell, but to serve.
The world has taught us to treat marketing as manipulation. But for those of us who have tuned into the current of creativity as holy service—every act of visibility is an act of devotion. Every offering is a lit candle. Every launch is a procession toward the altar.
If you’re ready to stop striving and instead unveil what is holy, this workbook is for you.
I can’t wait to see what you create.