As a little girl, I was my dad’s princess. In my eyes, he was the strongest man alive. His unwavering belief in me made me feel safe, confident, and capable of becoming anything I dreamed.

In third grade, my teacher unexpectedly asked me to lead the class for three days while she was away. Without hesitation, I agreed. I had always grasped my schoolwork easily and enjoyed helping my classmates, so stepping into that role felt natural—even exciting.

Word eventually reached my dad that his daughter had become the “teacher” that week. His response was simple but powerful: “If she has something to offer others, I don’t see why she shouldn’t do it.”

He never doubted me. His pride was always evident, even in the smallest moments. Because of him, I learned to believe in myself and to dream big. His encouragement shaped the woman I would become.

After losing my parents in the Rwandan Genocide against the Tutsi, my entire world shifted. Overnight, I went from being a cherished daughter to feeling invisible and unwanted. I was no longer seen as a bright young girl with dreams—I became someone my own relatives didn’t seem to want, a reality I still struggle to understand.

One aunt told me bluntly that I had no future and would never accomplish anything. A respected religious figure at my high school once said, “You’re an orphan—that’s limiting.” Another time, I heard the painful generalization: “Orphans grasp from the crowd; they don’t need to be told things.”

Those words cut deep. Leaving that religious environment, I came dangerously close to walking away from my faith entirely because of one false preacher’s influence.

During high school and college, I had no one to encourage me to stay in school, no one to celebrate my achievements, and no voice whispering that things would eventually be okay. But Jesus did.

Maybe you’ve been told similar things—perhaps by a family member, a teacher, or someone you trusted. Maybe you’ve been made to feel inadequate, ashamed of your past, or destined to fail. You may have faced ridicule for being different—how you looked, spoke, or believed. And perhaps, like me, you began to wonder if you were truly capable of anything meaningful.

Here’s some good news: no matter how painful your past has been, it’s not too late to dream again. Today is a new beginning. What others have said about you—whether people or the enemy—does not define your future. God’s plans are not dictated by negativity; His purpose is to prosper you, not to harm you.

Don’t let past failures or missed opportunities hold you back. Use them as stepping stones toward a hopeful future. If you’ve been praying or waiting for something, keep going—God hears you. While you wait, keep praying, loving, working hard, dreaming, and believing.

Life may bring challenges, delays, or setbacks—yes, the enemy is always looking to steal our hope. But our God is stronger. If one door closes, knock on the next. Keep climbing. Keep moving forward.

Don’t give up. Even slow progress is better than giving up on your dream. Great things happen to those who keep going. Look around—others have made it, and so can you.

But they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint. Isaiah 40:31