Seasons with Hutson

I got baptized in June of 2021, and sometimes I look back at the testimony I shared then. I pulled up what I first submitted, and it started like this:

“I have tried to write my story numerous times. Looking at this blank page, writing out something then deleting it. Trying to figure out what parts of my life I should share. Do I talk about grief and how God has given me strength through the 10+ people I’ve lost in 26 years? Do I talk about how I went through college saying, ‘God who?’ Do I talk about the shame I carried from a situation that left me not wanting to be on this earth anymore? How do you narrow down 26 years of battles with God and surrender all that you are?”…… (This is just a glimpse of it)

At the time, I thought my faith was strong. But now, standing here at 30, I look back and say wow. So much has happened since then — hard things I never saw coming — and I realize my story has shifted. What I wrote at 26 doesn’t fully capture who I am today.

Here’s what I know now: faith is not a one-time story. It’s a journey. Seasons change. We grow. We stumble. We learn. And our testimony keeps unfolding.

If you asked me to share my Jesus story today, here’s what I’d tell you:

My 16-year-old self would be proud. Back then, I was overwhelmed by anxiety. I faced bullying, believed lies about my body, and was later diagnosed with panic disorder and generalized anxiety disorder in 2018 a year after college. I went through trial after trial of antidepressants, poured myself into my career, and wrestled constantly with my purpose.

And while I still wrestle sometimes, I walk differently now — because I walk with Jesus. I’ve come off the meds, I’ve surrendered, and I’ve found freedom. I’m not perfect. I’ve made mistakes. But the most beautiful truth is that someone died for my sins so I could live.

That doesn’t mean surrendering to Jesus instantly made life easy. At first, I threw myself into service — 12 mission trips, countless roles in church, using every spiritual gift I could. And yes, serving matters. But somewhere in the middle of all the doing, I got lost. I wasn’t pouring into myself. I expected God to fix everything instantly, and when He didn’t, I felt like I was back at square one asking, “God, what even is this whole thing?”

What I’ve learned is this: faith has seasons. Some where you feel deeply connected to Jesus, and others where it feels like you’re shouting into silence, “Hello?? Do You even exist?” And all of it is okay.

At 30, my testimony isn’t just about grief, anxiety, or even freedom. It’s about surrender. Over and over again, I’ve learned to lay it at His feet — my plans, my fears, my dreams — and trust Him to open the right doors.

That’s the story I tell now: not a finished story, but a continuing one. A story of a God who meets me in every season, and who never stops writing new chapters.

XO,

Alexis

Psalm 139

For the director of music. Of David. A psalm.

¹ You have searched me, Lord,
    and you know me.
² You know when I sit and when I rise;
    you perceive my thoughts from afar.
³ You discern my going out and my lying down;
    you are familiar with all my ways.
⁴ Before a word is on my tongue
    you, Lord, know it completely.
⁵ You hem me in behind and before,
    and you lay your hand upon me.
⁶ Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
    too lofty for me to attain.

⁷ Where can I go from your Spirit?
    Where can I flee from your presence?
⁸ If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
    if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
⁹ If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
    if I settle on the far side of the sea,
¹⁰ even there your hand will guide me,
    your right hand will hold me fast.
¹¹ If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
    and the light become night around me,”
¹² even the darkness will not be dark to you;
    the night will shine like the day,
    for darkness is as light to you.

¹³ For you created my inmost being;
    you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
¹⁴ I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well.
¹⁵ My frame was not hidden from you
    when I was made in the secret place,
    when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
¹⁶ Your eyes saw my unformed body;
    all the days ordained for me were written in your book
    before one of them came to be.
¹⁷ How precious to me are your thoughts,^[a] God!
    How vast is the sum of them!
¹⁸ Were I to count them,
    they would outnumber the grains of sand—
    when I awake, I am still with you.

¹⁹ If only you, God, would slay the wicked!
    Away from me, you who are bloodthirsty!
²⁰ They speak of you with evil intent;
    your adversaries misuse your name.
²¹ Do I not hate those who hate you, Lord,
    and abhor those who are in rebellion against you?
²² I have nothing but hatred for them;
    I count them my enemies.
²³ Search me, God, and know my heart;
    test me and know my anxious thoughts.
²⁴ See if there is any offensive way in me,
    and lead me in the way everlasting.