Finding My Faith, Finding My Purpose: A Journey with Christ and Calling
My journey into Christianity was not a straight path, but a winding road through pain, silence, music, and revelation. I didn’t grow up in a deeply religious household, but I always had questions about purpose, pain, and the invisible forces at work in my life. For much of my early years, I struggled with feeling unseen, unheard, and misunderstood. I battled anxiety, depression, and a weight of emotional heaviness that I couldn’t always articulate. In those moments of isolation, it wasn’t a sermon or scripture that first reached me—it was music.
Music held me when I felt too fragile to be held by people. It made space for my sadness and reminded me I wasn’t alone. But looking back, I realize it wasn’t just the music—it was God speaking through it. Through lyrics I didn’t fully understand, harmonies that brought me peace, and melodies that calmed my racing thoughts, I was being drawn closer to something bigger than myself. That something was Christ.
I truly began to find the Lord in college, during a time when I felt completely overwhelmed. I was away from home, juggling classes, mental health struggles, and the pressure to “succeed” without fully knowing what success meant for me. I remember hitting what felt like rock bottom—spiritually empty, financially unstable, and questioning whether I even belonged in the spaces I was working so hard to stay in. In that silence, I started praying, not because I had the right words, but because I had no other words left.
God met me in my vulnerability. He didn’t need me to be perfect—He just needed me to be honest. And in that honesty, I began to find peace. I started reading the Bible, slowly at first, then with more intention. I saw myself in the stories of the broken being restored, of the outcast being chosen, of those who cried out in the wilderness and were heard. I realized that everything I had gone through hadn’t been for nothing. It was shaping me for a purpose far greater than I imagined.
That purpose was already beginning to take root in me through music and audio engineering. I wasn’t just called to create music—I was called to create safe, healing spaces through it. I was called to serve others with my gifts. My faith began to inform my work. I started viewing my clients not just as customers, but as souls carrying stories and wounds. My job wasn’t just to make their sound clean—it was to honor their truth. And that realization changed everything.
With Christ as my foundation, I launched Andromeda Studios—an audio engineering business I built from my dorm room. My mission has always been to make high-quality sound accessible to independent artists, especially those from underrepresented communities. I offer affordable recording, mixing, and mastering services, and I work closely with artists to ensure they feel safe, heard, and seen throughout the creative process. I see my work as a form of ministry—serving others with compassion, patience, and care, and helping them tell their stories with authenticity.
My career aspirations are rooted in this vision. I want to continue growing Andromeda Studios into a full-service creative space that includes not just recording, but mentorship, workshops, internship opportunities, and mental health resources for young artists. I want to create a hub where faith, creativity, and healing can co-exist. Long-term, I hope to launch a non-profit wing of my business that offers free or low-cost services to marginalized artists, and to establish scholarships and internship pipelines for women and people of color pursuing careers in audio engineering and music production.
I believe that audio engineering is more than a technical skill—it’s a spiritual gift. It requires listening deeply, serving humbly, and holding space for others. And I want to continue using this gift to amplify voices that are often silenced or overlooked.
However, pursuing this vision has not come without its trials. Recently, I lost the scholarships that were helping fund my college education. This has been one of the most difficult seasons of my life. I am now faced with the challenge of finding new ways to support myself while staying in school, running my business, and maintaining my GPA. I’ve taken on extra work, launched new digital products, and begun investing more into growing Andromeda Studios. But I know that I can’t do it alone.
That’s why receiving this scholarship would be more than financial relief—it would be an answered prayer. It would be a sign that I’m not walking this journey alone, and that there are people who believe in my vision and want to see it come to life. This scholarship would allow me to continue my education without the constant fear of dropping out. It would give me room to breathe, focus, and pour more intentionally into my craft and my calling.
Academically, I’m pursuing a degree in audio engineering and music production. I’m also taking courses that equip me with knowledge in business, marketing, and media, so that I can run my studio effectively and ethically. With financial support, I would be able to complete my degree without interruption and invest in certifications and training that expand my skill set and credibility.
Professionally, this scholarship would free up time and energy currently spent juggling survival jobs and financial stress, allowing me to scale my business, collaborate with more artists, and develop community-based programming. It would also help me afford better equipment, software, and resources to elevate the quality of my work and serve my clients better.
My future plans are grounded in service. I want to be the person I needed when I was younger—someone who says, “You matter. Your story matters. Your art matters. Let’s make something beautiful from your pain.” I want to create a generation of engineers, artists, and producers who lead with empathy, faith, and excellence. And I want to do it all while glorifying God through my actions, my work, and my life.
My faith has taught me that God doesn’t waste our pain. Every struggle, every closed door, every detour has been redirection, not rejection. Even the loss of my scholarships—while deeply painful—has become a reminder of why I need to keep building something that doesn’t rely on unstable systems, but on purpose, prayer, and perseverance. I know that with the right support, I can continue this work and grow it into something that impacts lives far beyond my own.
Receiving this scholarship would be a partnership in that mission. It would be fuel for the fire God has already placed in me. And it would allow me to keep showing up for others the way music—and Christ—first showed up for me.
Thank you for considering my story, my purpose, and my prayer. With or without financial support, I will continue walking in faith, knowing that with it, I can run.