Seed Planters, Part Three: The Foundation Shaker

Have you ever met someone in the middle of your wreckage—when everything is falling apart, when the weight of your choices and pain feels unbearable—who steps in and quite literally becomes a lifeline? Someone you just know was sent by God, no question about it?

That’s who Yvoncca was to me.

She came into my life at a time when I was drowning in bitterness. I was angry, guarded, and walking around with wounds that I refused to let heal. I had been let down by people, by circumstances, and if I’m honest—at the time, I felt like even God had taken His hands off of me. But then there was Yvoncca. Strong. Bold. Wise. Spirit-led. She didn’t flinch at my mess. She didn’t back away from my questions, my pain, or the wall I’d built around my heart. Instead, she walked right up to it and said, “Let’s talk.”

What started as a few conversations turned into a mentorship that transformed the trajectory of my life. Not because she forced change, but because she reflected Jesus in such a raw and real way that I couldn’t help but be drawn in.

Yvoncca taught me to think differently—not just about God, but about me. About the world. About how pain doesn’t have to define you, but it can refine you. She challenged me to stop seeing myself as a victim of my story and to start seeing myself as a vessel in God’s hands.

There are things she said to me—hard truths, loving reminders, moments of fierce encouragement—that are still planted deep within me. She taught me that I was responsible for the outcome of my life and it hit me like a divine warning. Because I was holding onto my pain and bitterness like it was a trophy. Justified. Righteous. Deserved. But she helped me realize it was killing the woman I was called to become.

I didn’t know how much I needed someone like her—someone unafraid to speak truth in love, someone who didn’t just talk about faith but lived it. She saw something in me I couldn’t see in myself, and she was patient enough to walk beside me until I started to see it too.

And it wasn’t just spiritual. It was practical. She taught me how to hold my head up, how to walk in a room with confidence, how to think critically and compassionately at the same time. She showed me what it looked like to be a woman of God without losing your edge. Without pretending. Without shrinking.

The seeds she planted in my life? They’ve taken root. They’ve grown. And they’ve produced fruit that I now get to pass on to others. That’s legacy. That’s Kingdom work. And I am forever grateful.

Without her obedience to God—without her willingness to step into my storm—I don’t know who I would be today. I can honestly say that. She was a divine appointment. A holy interruption. A woman who showed up, stood firm, and poured into me when I had nothing to give in return.

So, this one is for Yvoncca. For the women who plant seeds with their words, with their time, with their presence. Those that teach others to love themselves and to embrace who God created them to be. For the mentors who don’t always get thanked, but whose impact is eternal.

You changed my life. Thank you

Sometimes, God sends people not just to walk with us, but to shake us—gently, lovingly, purposefully. Their presence realigns our thinking, reignites our faith, and reminds us who we are and who we belong to. The lesson? Stay open. Stay humble. Because your breakthrough might come through someone else’s obedience. And when someone pours into you, don’t just take it—multiply it. Pass it on. Because you just might be someone’s Yvoncca.