Our Steps Are Ordered
A journey of faith, healing, and divine alignment in a small Iowa town called Okoboji.
Almost a year after losing my stepdad, I found myself sitting by a lake in Okoboji, surrounded by writers, dreamers, and people who reminded me that miracles are still real. I didn’t plan this journey, but every step, even the painful ones, led me right where I was meant to be.
The steps of a good person are ordered by the Lord, and He delights in their way. ~ Psalm 37:23
No matter what is going on around you, no matter how wild the world becomes or how dark it feels, there is still love, still light, still hope. Keep stepping. Keep believing. Keep listening for that first voice inside, the one that whispers when everything else is loud.
When you follow that voice, your steps, even the uncertain ones, are ordered.
That is how I found myself in a small town in Iowa called Okoboji.
Almost a year ago, my stepdad passed away. The good one. The one who loved my mother and all her seven children, six he did not father. He died after a simple procedure, a clot to the heart, and nothing was the same afterward.
After his funeral, my mother changed her number, sold her co-op, and moved away. She cut off all her children except the one she now lives with. I carried that pain quietly, unsure what to do with the weight of it.
I looked around and saw a world unraveling with wars, racism, division, and rights my grandparents marched for being stripped away. And people were doing it all in the name of God. But God is not hate. God is love.
One night I sat on my couch and said out loud, “Why am I here?” That question shook me. It came from a place of deep sadness. I knew I needed help.
So I prayed.
And God, in His quiet way, began to move things.
It started with one small step. I took a free beat sheet writing class with Margaret South, which led me to join Story Summit. There, I met Michelle Cowan, who invited me to the Okoboji Writers’ Retreat (OWR). I had never heard of OWR before, but something about the name stayed with me. It sounded peaceful, almost sacred.
Months later, I won a scholarship through Story Summit’s Write A Great Story Foundation to the Her Spirit Writers’ Retreat in Santa Cruz, California. There, I saw Michelle again. She told me about her husband’s death, how a drunk driver took his life, and how the OWR helped her begin to forgive. She said it was where her healing began. Her book Better Not Bitter was born from that experience.
When she invited me again, I told her I could not afford it. I was already at Santa Cruz on a scholarship and could not imagine asking for another. But Michelle reached out to Julie Gammack, the founder of the retreat, and before I knew it, Julie said yes.
Just like that.
It felt too good to be true. Somewhere deep inside, I struggled to believe I deserved that kind of grace. I looked at my finances again and realized that even if tuition was covered, travel would be too much.
Then Julie reached out again. She said she wanted me there and would help me get there.
That is when I knew this was not chance. This was divine. My steps were being ordered.
My dear soul sister Julie “Bird” Klein (who also helped with my travel to OWR) picked me up from the airport. Before I arrived, she called to ask if I had any food allergies. When I landed, she had the car packed with groceries, enough to feed a small village.
Some people you meet and your spirit recognizes them right away. That was Juliebird. We connected like family. We laughed, shared stories, and lifted each other’s spirits. From the start, I knew this was not random. It was another ordered step.
OWR is more than a place. It is a heartbeat. It is a sacred space where time slows down and creativity feels holy.
From the early morning tent gatherings to the classes that filled the day, every moment felt guided. Every person carried something I needed. Every conversation was another step that God had already arranged.
To think that one woman, Julie Gammack, planted this seed in 2021 and it grew into a haven for writers, dreamers, and healers is nothing short of miraculous.
OWR reminded me that when your steps are ordered, even pain finds purpose.
Favorite Moments
The Sunrise
Juliebird and I woke up to a sunrise that looked like a promise. The lake shimmered under soft light, and it felt as if God had painted the sky just for us. Every ripple in the water reminded me that movement is progress, even when it is quiet.
Dinner and Pie
That evening, Caleb Rainey stood up and performed a spoken word piece that reached deep into my soul. His words were raw and true. Afterward, everyone shared pie together. I split a Boston crème with Debra Engel, one of my favorite women on this earth. We laughed and talked like old friends while watching PIEOWA, a documentary about Iowa’s connection to pie and how it brings people together. I sat beside Debra, grateful for her warmth and wisdom, and of course, hugs.
By the Lake
On the last night, a group of us gathered by the lake. The moonlight reflected off the water, and the cool air carried our laughter across the shore. We talked for hours about life, love, pain, and healing.
That night, I connected with Kelsey Bigelow. I’m from the East Coast and she’s from the Northwest, yet somehow our stories mirrored each other. It reminded me that when we share our stories, we discover how deeply connected we all are, and how every path, no matter how far apart, is part of the same ordered journey.
Kelsey asked me, “Do you think you deserve to be pitied?”
I did not have an answer. I am still working on it. But I know that sharing our stories is how we rise. It is how we lift each other. It is how we remember that every heartbreak is another ordered step toward grace.
I also connected with writers I admire on Substack. It was an incredible experience to meet them in person… to look them in the eyes, to give them a hug, and to remember their smile. In that moment, I understood something powerful: we all have something to give, something to add to this world. Each step we take, each move we make, is our way of using our God-given gifts to make a difference.
Favorite Classes
Every class left something sacred behind.
Peter Hedges took me on a journey through his early days as an actor and writer to his first breakthrough, writing his book and adapting the screenplay What’s Eating Gilbert Grape. His honesty and humility reminded me that every great story begins with truth.
Becky Smith’s screenwriting class stirred my creativity and gave me new insight into what to add to my stories to take them to the next level. Her passion for storytelling reignited my own.
Beth Hoffman and Debra Engel showed me that memoir is not just memory, it is survival, a way of making peace with the past and turning pain into purpose.
Michelle Cowan’s self-publishing class revealed how writing and faith walk hand in hand, and how courage on the page can inspire courage in life.
Katharine Sands, a literary agent, dropped thirty years of knowledge that opened my eyes to how to shape and pitch my work to agents and producers. Her wisdom and generosity reminded me that preparation meets purpose when our steps are ordered.
I also sat in a Journalism/Democracy class that opened my eyes in a new way. I met powerful journalists who ask the right questions, women like Rekha Basu and Laura Belin. It takes courage to do what they do. It takes strength to seek truth in a time when the media and free speech are constantly under attack. The struggle is real, but their purpose is too. Their steps are ordered, even in the face of opposition.
And then there was Will Calhoun, the Grammy Award-winning musician. When I told him my grandfather was Frank A. Weems, the barber who owned Frank’s Barbershop on 229th and White Plains Road in the Bronx, he smiled and said, “Your grandfather was a legend.”
That moment stopped me. My grandfather had cut his hair decades ago. The world felt small, but my heart felt full. I knew then it was not a coincidence. It was another ordered step.
OWR is not a coincidence. It is a calling.
It is a place where miracles still happen, where strangers become family, and where broken hearts start to heal.
Julie Gammack created a space that heals through art, laughter, truth, and storytelling. Her dream continues to ripple outward, from the lakes of Iowa to the hearts of every creative soul who steps onto that land.
OWR taught me that God’s plan is not random. Every delay, every loss, every victory, and every connection are steps that lead to purpose. The steps that seem uncertain are often the ones that lead us to peace.
If you ever feel like giving up, if you ever question why you are still here, remember this. You are walking an ordered path. You may not see where it leads, but every step is carrying you closer to purpose.
OWR reminded me that miracles still exist. That faith still moves. That stories still heal.
When you follow that small, still voice, even when it makes no sense, it will lead you to exactly where you are meant to be.
My steps led me to the Okoboji Writer’s Retreat.
Yours will lead you to your own miracle.
Because our steps, every single one of them, are ordered.






Your words are a balm in this time of chaos. Thank you so much, Naz. Yes, indeed.
This is a beautiful view of your OWR trip! Thank you for being who you are and for making me feel understood. Two different regions and timelines, but two painfully similar life stories. You healed something in me, and I’m grateful for you 💛