I Almost Didn’t Write This Book

I almost didn’t write this book. And if I’m honest — I almost didn’t tell this story.

Not because it isn’t true. Every word of it is true. But because telling it means stepping into a public identity that looks very different from the one I’ve spent years building. And that kind of stepping is terrifying — even when you know it’s right. Even when you’ve been slowly walking toward it for four years.

But here I am. And here is the story.

The Book I Was Planning to Write 

A few years ago I was preparing to write a book about professional success and financial empowerment. It made sense on paper. I had spent fifteen years in corporate human resources leading leadership development for Fortune 500 organizations. Then I built my own coaching business serving women entrepreneurs. I created a financial empowerment course. I had a platform, an audience, and a clear lane.

The book matched my background, my expertise, everything I had spent years building. I knew exactly who I was writing it for. 

And then — every time I sat down to work on it — I kept hearing the same thing. 

It needs to include Scripture.

I didn’t understand. I pushed back. I argued with God — which, looking back, is both deeply human and slightly absurd.

I thought — you must have the wrong person. I had never read the Bible. I didn't grow up going to church. I taught abundance and money mindset. I ran a meditation subscription service. I would have called myself Christian — but honestly, I barely knew Jesus. My faith was broad and universal, more spirituality than relationship. I had the label without the substance. It was all on my own terms.

Which seems almost laughable to me now.

And in the midst of my confusion, God was asking me to write a book with Scripture.

The Confirmations That Kept Coming

God was persistent. He was pursuing me. And the confirmations kept coming in ways I couldn’t explain away.

A friend sent me a parenting book out of nowhere. The structure of it matched almost exactly what I kept imagining my book could be — personal testimony woven with theological depth and practical tools. I hadn’t told her what I was thinking about. She just sent it.

And then I went looking for something I had always known existed but never fully explored.

My great great grandfather — William E. Barton — was a congregational minister. He lived in Oak Park, Illinois. He attended Berea College, a college built on the belief that education should be free and accessible to everyone. He served in Kentucky. And he wrote parables.

Growing up my family had a copy of his work. But it had been published by an admirer who — in an attempt to make it more accessible — had stripped all the Scripture out. What we had was the outline of something. The shape of it. But the essential thing was missing.

When I felt the call to write a book with Scripture I decided to go find the original.

I found four books. Over 300 parables. All rooted in Scripture — each section led by the Word, exactly the way I was being called to structure my own book.

I sat with that for a very long time.

My great great grandfather had been doing exactly this. Scripture as the foundation. Parables as the vessel. And somewhere along the way the Scripture had been removed from the copy my family carried — and none of us had known what we were missing.

I think about that often. How we can carry something true and not realize the essential thing has been stripped away. How we can have the outline of faith — the belief, the spirituality, the sense of something larger — and still be missing the real thing.

Going back to find the original changed my perspective. Not just about William E. Barton. About myself.

God was reaching back through four generations to say — this is not as far from home as you think. This calling is not random. It runs in your blood. And God is at the center.

I don’t think God wastes anything. Not a single generation. Not even the corrupted copies we carry without knowing what’s been removed.

The Assignment I Finally Took Seriously

So I took the assignment seriously.

I committed to reading the entire Bible chronologically in one year — using Tara Leigh Cobble’s The Bible Recap to stay on track. Every morning I showed up — my Bible app, a cup of coffee, and a prayer that went something like — God, I want to know you. Not just know about you. Actually know you.

And he showed up. Every single morning.

The second summer I joined a women’s Bible study. And it was there — in a simple practice called Practicing the Presence — that my heart opened up and softened. Our pastor invited us to close our eyes and imagine sitting across from Jesus. I sat down. He was right there. I brought myself to him completely — no achievements to hide behind, no carefully managed version of myself. Just me. As I was.

What happened next is still difficult to put into words. His presence melted the last of my resistance. Heavy, sobbing tears began to pour down my face. In that moment I experienced a love that was entirely unconditional — a love that saw everything, my past, my wounds, my doubts — and offered nothing in return but grace.

And I realized — sitting in those tears — that the abundance I had spent my whole life searching for wasn’t a destination or an achievement or a philosophy. It wasn't some self improvement gimmick or something to earn or unlock.

It was a person. 

That was the moment I found my way home.

And Still — I Hesitated 

And still — I hesitated.

Because saying yes to God and yes to writing the book I was being called to write meant laying down so much. Fear. Pride. The question I kept asking — what will people think? It meant stepping into something I couldn’t fully see or plan or control. It meant leaving behind the platform and the identity I had spent years building. It meant being publicly, specifically, inconveniently Christian — when everything I had put out into the world said something else.

I kept asking myself — is this really what God is asking? And then another confirmation would arrive. And another. And another.

Eventually I stopped resisting.

I felt God pulling a message through me — and there was no other choice but to accept.

The Miracle I Didn’t Expect

Here is one of the things I didn’t expect about this journey.

When I finally said yes and began writing in earnest — I asked my dad if he would read the New Testament with me. He agreed. Reluctantly. Mostly I think because he wanted to spend time with me. 

He had no idea what he was saying yes to. Neither did I.

Every month I wrote and sent him chapters. We met on Zoom. We read Scripture together. We brought in other books. He received every word — including the messy ones, the 30,000 extra words I had to write to find the heart of the message, the drafts that didn’t survive to the final manuscript — with zero judgment. He was my first reader. My most faithful one.

What began as a simple invitation to spend time together unfolded into a miracle. We laughed. We cried. We grew in ways neither of us imagined.

I dedicated the book to him. Because it wouldn’t exist without him.

God knew what he was doing when he gave me this man as my father.

The Book

Nine months of writing. A completed manuscript. A Christian book about coming home to God.

Coming Home to God: A Journey into God’s Transforming Love is part memoir, part spiritual formation guide. It follows a nine-chapter journey through the spiritual postures that make a deep, surrendered relationship with God possible — receiving his love, cultivating gratitude, extending forgiveness, resting in your beloved identity, growing in faith, finding community, and surrendering everything into the hands of a God who can be trusted with all of it.

I wrote it for the person who is where I was. Maybe you’ve never found your way to Jesus. Maybe you found him once and have been slowly drifting. Maybe you’ve walked with God for years and simply hunger for something deeper. Or maybe you’ve been striving — working hard, achieving, building — and you’re finally ready to put that weight down. 

The longing is the same. And so is the way home.

I was that person. That question has an answer. And after four years of God’s persistence meeting my resistance — I finally wrote it down.

Where Things Stand Now

The manuscript is complete and currently in editing. I am actively seeking a publisher — and I’m not sure how long that process will take. But I know this — I said yes when it was hard and costly and uncertain. And I am not the same person I was when this began.

If you’ve been following me for a while — on Instagram, through my courses, through any of the abundance and money mindset work — this may surprise you. My public identity doesn’t yet match what I’ve been building privately for four years. But it’s catching up. And I’m finally ready to let it.

I am being called to live with purpose. To share this story. To bring whoever wants to come along — with me.

A Gift for You While You Wait

I want to invite you to join me in this journey home.

The practice that began to change everything for me is called Practicing the Presence — an invitation to stop, be still, and encounter God. Put more simply — it’s an invitation to look at God, looking at us, with love.

I recorded it for you.

Ten minutes that could change everything.

I’ve also included a prayer from my book — print it, tuck it in your Bible or your journal, and read it whenever you need to come home. 

Both are my gift to you. Completely free.

 Yes — I’m ready to come home 

Thank you for reading this far. Whether you’ve known me for years or just stumbled onto this page for the first time — I’m glad you’re here.

He has not forgotten. He has been waiting.

Come home. 

With love and gratitude —

Alexandra