How The G.R.O.W. Encounter Began
In 2018, I sat in a group chat with two sister friends, and God interrupted our conversation with a word I couldn't shake.
We ministered to each other the way we always did, and the prophetic began to flow. What started as conversation turned into vision, a small, intimate retreat where women could gather for real renewal. Not another conference. Not another weekend. A place for the heart matters no one talks about, the hidden treasures buried under role after role after role.
One word kept surfacing louder than the rest, midwife. God was showing me women who were pregnant with purpose but stuck in the process, carrying something they'd never fully birthed. Prophetic word after prophetic word confirmed it, Rebirth, Cultivation, each one pointing at the same thing. Something was trying to be born, and I was being positioned to help carry it.
Then the pandemic hit. I knew what God had said. I didn't know how to build it, or who to build it with. I sat in that tension longer than I want to admit.
What changed wasn't a strategy. It was my own healing. I worked through the fear that had kept me waiting for permission I was never going to get. Once I stopped waiting, The G.R.O.W. Encounter stopped being a word I carried and became a weekend I could actually build.
Some of what God places in you will sit dormant until you deal with what's keeping you from moving. G.R.O.W. didn't wait on funding or timing. It waited on me.
