Don’t Get Mad When I Pull a YOU on You!

Don’t Get Mad When I Pull a YOU on You!

“Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap.”

— Galatians 6:7

There’s a hard truth many people don’t want to hear: sometimes the very thing that hurts us is the same thing we’ve been doing to others.

We pray, “Lord, why did they ignore me?” while God gently reminds us of the messages we never answered.

We ask, “Why did they walk away from me?” while heaven points to the relationships we abandoned when they became inconvenient.

We cry, “Why wasn’t I shown grace?” while remembering the grace we withheld from someone who desperately needed it.

It’s almost as if God says, “Don’t get mad when I pull a you on you.”

Not because He is cruel. Not because He enjoys seeing us suffer. But because exposure is often the doorway to transformation.

Jesus never built His ministry on merely making people feel comfortable. He revealed hearts. He exposed motives. He held up a mirror. When Peter boasted of loyalty, Jesus showed him his weakness. When the rich young ruler claimed obedience, Jesus exposed his idol. When religious leaders displayed outward holiness, Jesus uncovered inward pride.

The foundation of every spiritual breakthrough is honesty.

The problem is that we usually want mercy for ourselves and justice for everyone else. We want understanding when we fail, but accountability when others fail us. Yet Jesus continually teaches a different kingdom principle: the measure you use will be measured back to you (Luke 6:38).

That should stop every believer in their tracks.

Before complaining about what someone did to you, ask yourself: Have I ever done this to someone else?

Before demanding forgiveness, ask: Am I giving forgiveness?

Before expecting loyalty, ask: Am I loyal?

Before wanting kindness, ask: Am I kind?

God has a way of allowing us to experience what we’ve created so we can finally understand what we’ve ignored.

But here’s the beautiful part of the gospel.

Jesus is not merely the mirror that reveals our flaws. He is the foundation that restores what is broken.

When conviction hits, don’t run from it. Run to Christ.

When God exposes an area of hypocrisy, don’t defend it. Surrender it.

When He shows you that you’ve become the source of the very pain you’re complaining about, don’t become offended. Become teachable.

The cross is proof that God’s goal is never condemnation. His goal is redemption.

The enemy exposes your sin to shame you. Jesus exposes your sin to heal you.

So if life has handed you a painful lesson lately, instead of asking, “Why is this happening to me?” consider asking, “Lord, what are You trying to show me about me?”

That question can change everything.

Because spiritual maturity begins the moment we stop pointing fingers outward and allow Jesus to examine our hearts inward.

And sometimes the greatest act of God’s mercy is allowing us to feel what others felt from us, so we can become more like Him.

Prayer

Lord Jesus, You are my foundation. Search my heart and reveal anything in me that doesn’t reflect You. Give me the humility to receive correction, the courage to change, and the grace to extend to others what I desire for myself. When You hold up the mirror, help me respond with repentance instead of resistance. Build my life on Your truth so that my character reflects Your love. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Until next time…

Keep being Beautiful You! ❤️🕊️

Healing Does Not Remove Discernment. It Just Removes Desperation.

Healing Does Not Remove Discernment, It Just Removes Desperation

Healing Does Not Remove Discernment. It Just Removes Desperation.

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Healing does not remove discernment. It simply removes the desperation that once made us ignore it.

Through healing, God teaches us to slow down, listen closely, and trust the quiet wisdom He placed within us.

Discernment is not fear, bitterness, or walls built from pain; it is peace, clarity, and spiritual maturity.

When a woman truly begins to heal, she no longer begs for love, chases validation, or settles for less than what God says she deserves.

She understands that her identity was never meant to be found in people, but in Christ alone.

As daughters of God, we are already chosen, already worthy, already deeply loved.

Healing reminds us that what is meant for us will never require us to abandon ourselves to receive it.

Until next time…

Keep Being Beautiful You!

Tongues of Deadly Arrows

Tongues of Deadly Arrows

Tongues of Deadly Arrows

Gossip, Slander, and the Destruction of Words

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“Their tongue is a deadly arrow; it speaks deceitfully. With their mouths they all speak cordially to their neighbors, but in their hearts they set traps for them.”

— Jeremiah 9:8, NIV

There are wounds that bleed openly, and then there are wounds inflicted by the tongue; hidden injuries that quietly destroy trust, relationships, reputations, peace, and even entire communities. Scripture does not minimize the power of gossip because God understands what words can do when they are fueled by pride, jealousy, insecurity, bitterness, or rebellion.

Jeremiah painted the picture with terrifying clarity:

A deadly arrow.

Not an accident.
Not “just venting.”
Not harmless conversation.

An intentional weapon.

Jeremiah describes people who smile outwardly while secretly aiming destruction inwardly. Their words travel ahead of them like arrows dipped in poison: slander, exaggeration, half-truths, insinuations, manipulation, whispered accusations, spiritual superiority, and gossip disguised as concern.

And if we are honest, Christian communities are not exempt from this sin. Oftentimes, they are the breeding grounds for it.

Women especially can fall into relational forms of warfare that appear socially acceptable:

• private conversations disguised as prayer requests,

• sharing “concerns” that damage someone’s character,

• passive-aggressive comments,

• emotional manipulation,

• triangulation,

• subtle exclusion,

• boundary breakers,

• repeating information that was never ours to carry.

God takes this seriously because gossip does not merely hurt people; it reveals the condition of the heart.

That is why Proverbs 6:16-19 says:

“There are six things the Lord hates, seven that are detestable to Him… a lying tongue… a false witness who pours out lies and a person who stirs up conflict in the community.”

Notice something sobering:
God places divisive speech among the things He hates.

Why?

Because words can burn down what took years to build.
One whisper can fracture friendships.
One lie can destroy trust.
One slanderous conversation can isolate someone already struggling silently.

The tongue often reveals what the heart refuses to surrender.

Some people gossip because they crave significance.
Some because they are wounded.
Some because comparison has turned into envy.
Some because tearing others down temporarily makes them feel elevated.
Others gossip because they enjoy feeling “in the know.”

But Scripture says this behavior is not small. It is spiritually corrosive.

The frightening part about gossip is how easily it disguises itself as righteousness. It rarely announces itself honestly. Instead, it cloaks itself in concern, discernment, wisdom, humor, or spirituality.

Yet God sees beyond the tone of our voice and examines the motive beneath it.

Jeremiah says:

“They do not acknowledge Me.” — Jeremiah 9:3

That means destructive speech is ultimately a worship issue. A heart surrendered to God cannot continually weaponize words without conviction.

And perhaps the deepest tragedy is this: many people wounded by gossip never fully recover from it. Some leave churches. Some distrust friendships. Some carry shame for years because someone else chose careless words over Christlike love.

This devotional is not merely a warning for “other women.” It is an invitation for all of us to examine ourselves honestly.

Have my words healed or harmed?
Do I speak truth or feed suspicion?
Do I protect people when they are absent?
Would I say this if the person were standing here?
Am I building peace or quietly stirring division?

Jesus said:

“Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.” — Matthew 12:34

If our words are constantly sharp, cynical, divisive, or destructive, the issue is deeper than communication. The issue is the heart.

Questions for Reflection

1. Have I participated in conversations that dishonored someone made in God’s image?

2. Do I use words to connect, or to control, wound, or elevate myself?

3. What kind of atmosphere follows my speech: peace or suspicion?

Closing Prayer

Lord, search my heart and expose every careless, prideful, deceitful, or destructive word within me. Teach me to speak with wisdom, restraint, truth, and compassion. Convict me when my tongue becomes a weapon instead of a source of life. Help me protect others with my words instead of harming them. Let my speech reflect Your character and bring peace rather than division. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Until next time…

When the Church Is Not Safe, and God Still Is

When the Church Is Not Safe, and God Still Is

🚨⚠️ This post discusses sexual assault, spiritual abuse, and institutional betrayal. If these topics are tender or activating for you, please take care of yourself as you read. You are free to pause, step away, or choose another space on this site. You matter.

When the Church Is Not Safe, and God Still Is

There are some stories we do not tell because we are in hiding. Others, because we are surviving. For a long time, mine lived in the second category.

Many of you have asked why I moved churches after fourteen years. Why my voice changed. Why my ministry direction shifted. I have often answered vaguely, not because the truth is unimportant, but because there is a cost to telling it.

This was not one wound. For nearly three years, I have been walking through cancer, surgeries, and treatment while also carrying the weight of a deep violation, the silence that followed, and the consequences that came with telling the truth. My body was fighting to survive. My heart was trying to make sense of betrayal. My spirit was learning how to endure more than I thought possible.

Here is what I can say now, carefully and honestly.

I was sexually assaulted in a church setting. Before that, the same church pressured me into silence so the congregation would not “panic” at the awareness that registered sex offenders were roaming the halls. I was treated as a “conflict” to be managed instead of a person to be protected.

A couple of weeks after my double mastectomy and lymph node dissection, with surgical drains still in place, the church arranged transportation so I could keep my promise to the incarcerated women at CCWF. I had told them the ministry event would happen no matter what.

I was not told that the man assigned to transport me and my Bibles was a registered sex offender. I was given only his name and told he was a respected Bible teacher.

After a thirteen-hour day and a terrifying five-hour drive home, I asked for a chaplain-to-chaplain debriefing. I was made to wait thirty days, all while undergoing dose-dense chemotherapy. Instead of concern or compassion, I was treated like the villain, not the victim.

Exposure is the secondary infection; while chemotherapy was meant to kill the cancer in my body, the church’s negligence introduced a toxicity to my soul that no medicine can treat.

What I endured on that drive was psychological trauma that will never leave me. The lack of transparency, the lack of care, and the lack of protection turned an already devastating season into layered trauma.

One year later, while I was still in cancer treatment and still serving my church, the unconscionable happened. I was sexually assaulted by a weekly‑attending member, right outside the prayer room.

This was not one bad decision or one painful moment. It was compounded trauma. Spiritual. Emotional. Physical. It affected my health, my work, and my trust in spaces that once felt like home.

I am not sharing this to attack a church or to name names. This is bigger than one congregation or one leadership team. This is about spiritual abuse and institutional failure, and the real damage they inflict on real people.

It is one thing to be hurt by the world. It is another to be hurt in the house of God. And it is something else entirely to be told that speaking the truth will cost you everything.

In my case, it did. It cost me credentials. It cost me an organization I had built. It cost me relationships. And for a long time, it nearly cost me my voice.

Scripture tells us in 2 Corinthians 1:3–4 that God comforts us in our troubles so we can comfort others with the comfort we have received from Him. It also tells us that when one member of the body suffers, the whole body suffers.

Sometimes, instead of bearing one another’s burdens, systems protect themselves. Sometimes, instead of binding wounds, institutions manage risk. Sometimes, instead of walking with the violated, people choose silence because it feels safer.

That does not mean God failed. It means people did. And God is not confused about the difference.

For a long time, I carried this quietly. Part of that was fear. Part of it was exhaustion. Part of it was knowing that survivors are often treated as liabilities instead of image‑bearers who have been harmed.

If you have walked this road, you know how lonely it can be. You start to question your own memory, your own instincts, your own worth.

But silence has a cost too. It teaches your nervous system that you are not safe. It teaches your heart that your pain is inconvenient. And it slowly shrinks your world.

I am writing this because God does not heal what we are forced to keep hidden. And because there are women and survivors sitting in churches right now wondering if God sees what is happening to them.

He does.

I am also writing this because my story did not end in loss. What was meant to silence me became the ground where God reshaped my calling. What was meant to break me became the place where He deepened my compassion. What was meant for harm has been woven into work that now serves law enforcement families, foster children, and people who live with trauma every day.

This is also why I wrote my book, Boots of Resurrection, now with Moody Publishers. It was not born out of theory. It was born out of survival, faith, and the long, slow work of God meeting me in places I would never have chosen but could not avoid.

That does not make what happened okay. It means God is faithful in the middle of what is not.

If you are a survivor of sexual assault, spiritual abuse, or institutional betrayal, please hear this:

You are not weak because it hurt.

You are not faithless because it changed you.

You are not dangerous because you tell the truth.

And you do not owe your silence to any system that failed to protect you.

There is a difference between protecting the Church and protecting an image. Christ asked us to love people.

I am still walking this road. But I am no longer willing to pretend this part of my story does not exist.

Not for shock. Not for drama. But for truth. And for the women and children and families who deserve better than silence.

If you are carrying something similar, you are not alone.

He walks with the violated.

He stays with the wounded.

And He is not afraid of the truth.

Until next time…

Keep being Amazing You!

Hallelujah!!!

Who is Tammy Ingram, aka Tammy Tangent?

Riding Free

Who is Tammy Ingram, aka Tammy Tangent?

Where The Unfiltered Voice Comes Out To Play!

I won’t burden you with the whole laundry list of degrees, licenses, and certifications—though there are many. What matters more is the story behind them; the road that shaped me.

For years, I tried to heal without being held.

Serve without resting.

Lead without being seen.

Like many women, I survived more than I ever spoke out loud.

Trauma.

Generational dysfunction.

Spiritual wounds.

Silence.

Expectations.

And the weight of being “the strong one” until my soul buckled.

Then came resurrection; not the pretty kind.

The kind that crawls out of the grave still shaking, still bruised, but refusing to stay buried.

My calling is simple:

Heal the children

by healing their mothers

by healing their environments

that wound them.

God assigned me specifically to:

Women in uniform, beloved women in civilian life, especially the wounded and the unseen, and the children connected to them. And within those spaces, my heart is drawn to the ones carrying silent trauma no one ever tended.

I am not here to impress anyone.

I am here to break chains: the quiet ones, the generational ones, the ones no one talks about.

If you’re here, it means your story matters to God; and we’re going to make sure it finally matters to you, too.

Until next time…

My Words About the Bride of Christ…

The Bride of Christ

When the Church Is Not the Safest Place!

In My Words…

I love the Church.

And because I love her, I have to tell the truth.

Somewhere along the way, we began confusing protecting the institution with protecting the people. In that confusion, something devastating has happened: victims have been silenced, minimized, or spiritually managed—while predators have been shielded, excused, or quietly relocated.

This is not an exaggeration.

And it is not rare.

Churches are often described as safe havens, but for many, they have been anything but. Predators know this. They understand that churches offer trust, access, language that can be twisted, and communities that are often more concerned with reputation than reckoning.

Abuse does not stop at the church doors.

Sometimes, it hides behind them.

The most dangerous environments are not always the loud or obviously broken ones. They are the places where appearances matter more than truth, where “forgiveness” is rushed, where accountability is avoided, and where those who speak up are labeled divisive, bitter, or unspiritual.

Jesus never protected predators.

He protected the vulnerable; and He confronted systems that crushed them.

If the Church is to reflect Christ, then we must be willing to ask hard questions:

• Who are we really protecting?

• Who is paying the cost of our silence?

• And what would it look like to believe victims first?

This isn’t about tearing the Church down.

It’s about calling her back to integrity.

Awareness is not an attack.

Truth is not rebellion.

And listening to survivors is not a threat to faith; it’s evidence of it.

If the Church is to be a refuge again, it must become a place where light is welcomed, not feared… even when that light exposes what we wish wasn’t there.

Until next time…

Keep being Amazing You!