A little pink bag,
a whole lot of faith.

Picture this. It's a rainy Tuesday, I'm running late to my 8 a.m., iced latte in one hand, and my sad little tote bag just… gives up. Right there on the sidewalk. Laptop, journal, lip gloss, and my Bible, the pink one I've had since I was twelve with notes doodled in every margin, all of it on the wet concrete.

I remember kneeling there, drying the cover with my sweater sleeve and whispering, okay Lord, there has to be a prettier way to carry the things that matter.

So I went looking. Every bag was either too tiny for a Bible and a laptop, way too plain, or covered in giant slogans that felt like shouting. And my faith has never been loud.

It's the verse I whisper before an exam. The little prayer in my car before a hard conversation. It's soft, and it's always just… there. Within me.

Every Thursday my sisters in Christ, Hannah, Grace and Noelle, squeeze into my tiny dorm room for Bible study. Fairy lights, way too many snacks, everyone in pajamas. That week I told them about my sidewalk disaster, and once we finished laughing, they admitted their bags were falling apart too.

Then we opened to Psalm 46.

We started sketching in the back of my journal that same night. It had to fit a Bible, a 14-inch laptop, a water bottle and a journal. It had to be soft, blush-pink suede with a little bow, because we're girls, we love pretty things, and that's a gift too.

And the faith part? Hidden, the way ours is. Tiny verses you only find when you need them, like little love notes from Him.