Soul Scentsational

03/06/2026

Do your part faithfully. Let God do His part miraculously.

Your responsibility is obedience, effort, and consistency. Show up. Work diligently. Pray sincerely. Act with integrity. Plant the seeds that are within your control.

But the outcome does not belong to you.

You cannot force the harvest.
You cannot control every result.
You cannot manufacture what only God can provide.

Your role is faithfulness.

Be faithful in the small tasks.
Be faithful in the quiet seasons.
Be faithful even when no one notices.

God’s role is the miracle.

He opens doors you could never open.
He changes hearts you could never change.
He provides opportunities you could never create.

When you focus on your part and trust Him with His part, peace replaces pressure. You no longer feel the need to control everything.

Just keep showing up.
Keep doing what is right.
Keep trusting His timing.

Do your part faithfully.

And let God do His part miraculously.

02/27/2026

The world needs the love & light you bring! 🖤 My new collection is officially here, filled with encouraging art like this one. The link is in the comments!

01/30/2026

So much of our insecurity comes from watching who stayed silent when we showed up. Who didn’t support. Who didn’t celebrate. Who didn’t acknowledge the effort, growth, or obedience it took just to keep going. We scan rooms for approval, replay conversations, and quietly wonder why our faithfulness went unnoticed. But what we often forget is this: heaven has been paying attention the entire time.

God sees you fully.

He sees the private battles no one applauded. The prayers you whispered when you were exhausted. The discipline it took to obey when disobedience would have been easier. The strength it required to walk away, forgive, wait, or trust again. While others may have missed it—or chosen not to acknowledge it—God never did.

And God doesn’t clap quietly.

His approval isn’t hesitant or conditional. It’s not dependent on popularity, visibility, or perfection. God rejoices in your obedience. He delights in your growth. He celebrates every step you take toward Him, even when that step looks small to everyone else.

When you realize this, something shifts.

You stop shrinking to fit rooms that don’t recognize your value.
You stop explaining yourself to people who aren’t listening.
You stop measuring your worth by human response.

Because the truth is, not everyone is meant to clap for you. Some people are distracted. Some are limited by their own insecurities. Some were never assigned to cheer you on in this season. Their silence is not a reflection of your worth—it’s simply a reminder of where your validation should never come from.

God’s applause is enough.

It’s louder than criticism.
Stronger than rejection.
More sustaining than temporary praise.

When God claps for you, it comes with peace instead of pressure. It doesn’t inflate your ego—it anchors your identity. You no longer chase affirmation because you’re rooted in assurance. You know who you are, who you belong to, and why you’re walking the path you’re on.

And suddenly, the noise fades.

The lack of support doesn’t sting the same.
The absence of praise doesn’t shake you.
The opinions that once mattered lose their power.

Because you realize you were never performing for people in the first place.

You were walking in obedience.
You were growing in faith.
You were living under God’s approval.

So keep going. Keep showing up. Keep choosing faithfulness over applause. The right people will celebrate you when it’s time—but even if they don’t, heaven already is.

When you finally realize how loud God claps for you, you’ll stop noticing who doesn’t.

01/29/2026

Some moments shake you in ways you don’t expect. Last week was one of those. A fire destroyed everything I’d been building for years: all of my candles + inventory for Soul Scentsational, my self-published book copies (Little Skinny Girl), my children’s things, my clothes, and valuable keepsakes. These weren’t just belongings; they held years of effort, love, and intention. I truly need my community right now. Sharing my GoFundMe for anyone who feels called to help, a contribution, a share, a prayer, or even a kind word. Thank you!

On January 21st, a devastating fire recently tore through a large storage … Shaniece Melvin needs your support for Rebuilding After the Milwaukee Storage Fire

01/16/2026

Hey educators! I wanted to share a little something that your students will LOVE for brain breaks!
Introducing my “Would You Rather?” SEL & Movement Brain Break, a playful way to combine social-emotional learning and movement in just minutes!

• 10 SEL-focused “Would You Rather?” questions (emotions, mindfulness, kindness, confidence & more)
• Printable full-color cards for centers, small groups, or subs
• Editable digital slide deck with fun visuals & animations for virtual or in-person use

This resource is perfect for:
🤎 Quick brain breaks
🤎 Transitions
🤎 SEL lesson starters
and it works for subs (like myself), counselors, or classroom teachers alike! Teachers in my community are already loving how easy it is to engage students while supporting SEL growth.

Grab your copy and let your students move, reflect, and connect in just minutes: https://www.teacherspayteachers.com/Product/Would-You-Rather-SEL-Movement-Brain-Break-Activity-for-Early-Elementary-Kids-15046819

12/19/2025

Waiting has a way of wearing down my patience and testing my faith. At first, I wait with hope and expectation, believing that answers will come quickly. But as time passes, that hope can feel heavier. The silence feels longer. The uncertainty feels louder. And I begin to wonder how much longer I can hold on without seeing change. In those moments, trusting You feels harder than believing in You.

I’m learning that waiting is not just about time—it’s about surrender. It’s about releasing my need to control outcomes, timelines, and details I cannot see. Even when I’m exhausted from hoping, I choose to trust that You are still working. I remind myself that just because I don’t see progress doesn’t mean nothing is happening.

God, You know how tired waiting can make a person. You see the prayers I’ve repeated, the tears I’ve wiped away, and the quiet frustration I carry when things don’t move forward. I don’t always wait gracefully. Sometimes I question. Sometimes I feel discouraged. But I keep coming back to You because I know You are faithful, even when my strength is low.

Teach me how to wait without growing bitter. Help me trust You without feeling defeated. Let waiting deepen my faith instead of draining it. I don’t want to rush ahead of You or force doors that aren’t meant to open yet. Give me peace in the pause and patience in the process.

When my mind fills with “what ifs” and my heart grows restless, anchor me in truth. Remind me that delays are not denials. That You see the full picture while I only see a small part. That what feels slow to me is often careful preparation in Your hands.

God, help me trust You when waiting stretches longer than I expected. When I feel forgotten, remind me that You are present. When I feel behind, remind me that Your timing is not late. When I feel weary, carry me with Your strength.

I’m learning that trust doesn’t mean I stop feeling tired—it means I keep believing even when I am. It means choosing faith on days when hope feels fragile. It means staying connected to You even when I don’t understand Your timing.

So here I am, still waiting, still hoping, still trusting—one day at a time. I place my expectations, my questions, and my weariness in Your hands. I trust that You are working for my good, even now.

God, I’m learning to trust You, even when I’m tired of waiting—and I believe You will meet me right here in the waiting.

12/01/2025

December arrives with a gentle exhale, an invitation to slow down, soften, and close the year with presence.
There is no rush here. No urgency. Just the quiet knowing that what’s meant to unfold will meet us in its own time.
This month, I’m honoring the art of peaceful closure.
Releasing what feels heavy.
Nourishing what feels true.
Letting rest become a form of trust.
I’m learning to meet the end of the year not with pressure, but with reverence for all that was lived, all that was learned, and all that quietly shaped me.
May we give ourselves permission to pause.
To breathe deeply into the space between endings and beginnings.
To trust that stillness, too, is a kind of becoming.

Here’s to peaceful closure, soulful rest, and trusting the beauty of what’s yet to come. 🤍

11/19/2025

Kindness needs boundaries too. ✨

11/01/2025

November arrived softly, a quiet reminder to root deeper, breathe slower, and find gratitude in the in-between.
Not everything needs to bloom right now. Some seasons ask us to simply hold what’s here and trust that it’s enough.
This month, I’m practicing more presence.
Letting small moments feel sacred.
Leaning into rest without apology.
Choosing gratitude as a way of seeing, not just saying.
May we all find calm in the spaces between doing and becoming.
May we honor the pause before what’s next.
Here’s to tender grounding, heartfelt gratitude, and trusting the calm between seasons. 🍁

10/28/2025

Trusting the unseen is my new form of discipline. 🤎

09/07/2025

What’s meant for you will not pass you by. ✨