MEET NICOLA R. MOORE

Today, I am a woman grounded in faith, shaped by obedience, and committed to building a life that honors God through order, integrity, and legacy. I stand as a wife, a mother, a glamma, a prophetess and a builder — not because life was gentle, but because God was faithful through every season that tried to break me. What you see now is the result of years of healing, surrender, and alignment — and of a family being restored alongside me.

But this is not where my story began.

I was born into a home shaped by addiction, instability, and survival. My mother struggled with addiction, and my father lived a life influenced by the streets. Chaos was familiar early, and protection was inconsistent. Before I ever understood God as Father, I learned how to endure — how to stay alert, adapt, and survive in environments where hope was fragile and childhood ended early.

By the age of thirteen, I entered foster care.

That moment confirmed what life had already taught me: I would have to grow up fast. There were no parents to guide me, no one consistently checking on my heart, no holidays or milestones that reminded you that you belonged somewhere.

Only systems.

Only survival.

At seventeen, while still in foster care, God placed me into a different kind of home — a spiritual one. It was then that the late Mother Luvora Turner entered my life, when I was placed in her home as a foster child. In a season marked by confusion and responsibility far beyond my years, she helped lead me to Christ and planted a seed of faith that would remain with me, even when my life would later drift far from God.

By that same age, I had one child on my hip and pregnant with the second child while still trying to survive being a child myself. Those early years shaped my daughters and me together — learning life side by side without instruction or protection. I didn’t know how to be a mother because I had never been mothered. I didn’t know how to receive love because love had never felt safe. I dropped out of high school, not from lack of ability, but because survival leaves little space for vision.

By my early twenties, grief entered my life again with the loss of my mother. What little foundation I had left shattered. I spiraled into survival mode — the streets, abuse, betrayal, welfare, deep self-doubt, and searching for worth in places that slowly emptied me. I was exhausted physically, emotionally, and spiritually — trying to escape pain without knowing how to heal it, while still showing up for my children the only way I knew how.

There was no roadmap for raising children when you were never raised.

No example of marriage.

No guide for how to be a woman when protection had never been modeled.

And yet — God.

I did not meet again God in comfort. I met Him in the wreckage. Not with condemnation, but with patience and presence. He stayed with me in the confusion, in the broken patterns, and in the habits I didn’t yet know how to change. Slowly and intentionally, God began rebuilding me from the inside out — changing not just my behavior, but my mindset. Even my late father witnessed this profound turning point in my life.

When I met my husband, I was still healing and unlearning survival. Our journey was not perfect, but God gave us grace, wisdom, and structure to rebuild together. Through that restoration, God entrusted us with a family anchored in faith — including the gift of our son — and taught us how to steward love, success, and legacy together.

In my thirties, long after many believe life should already be figured out, I earned my high school diploma. Not for applause, but out of obedience — confronting what had been delayed and allowing God to restore what trauma interrupted.

What changed my life wasn’t luck.

It was alignment — alignment that extended beyond me, into my marriage, my children, and the legacy we are building as a family.

God replaced chaos with order.

Shame with identity.

Survival with stewardship.

Today, my life is evidence that what was broken can be rebuilt, what was delayed can still bloom, and what was abandoned can still become legacy. This story is for the woman who has been overlooked, misunderstood, and wounded — yet still believes God may not be finished with her.

He isn’t.

God was with me then.

He is with me now.

And He is with you too.

“AGAINST ALL ODDS” - I SURVIVED 🩷