The Pause
Don’t fix it. Don’t solve it. Just let it surface
The Sacred Pause of Kelley Tyan
BY CAMMANEX EDITORIAL
Some lives do not ask to be admired. They ask to be witnessed. Kelley Tyan’s story unfolds not as a victory march, but as a quiet kneeling—over and over again—before the mystery of pain, faith, and becoming. Hers is not a testimony polished for performance, but a lived devotion shaped in hospital rooms, sleepless nights, whispered prayers, and the slow, sacred work of surrender. There is a gravity to her presence. Not heaviness—but weight. The kind that comes from having stood in the valley long enough to know that strength is not self-made. It is received. When breast cancer entered Kelley’s life, it did not arrive with clarity or comfort. It arrived as rupture. As fear. As the sudden awareness that control—so carefully cultivated—was an illusion. What remained was not certainty, but a whisper.
“Daughter, you are not alone. I will carry you.”
You have overcome breast cancer, grief, and depression. In those darkest moments, what inner truth kept you anchored when everything felt unstable?
In my darkest moments, the only thing that kept me anchored was the quiet conviction that God was still with me — even when nothing made sense. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t strength I manufactured. It was the whisper: “Daughter, you are not alone. I will carry you.” When the diagnosis came… when grief knocked the breath out of me… when depression sat heavy on my chest… I returned to that one truth — God is faithful in the valley, not just the mountaintop. Even when I couldn’t feel strong, I held onto His strength. Even when I couldn’t pray long, I prayed honestly and openly. And even when fear tried to suffocate me, hope kept flickering because God always shows up. That whisper became my anchor. And it’s the same anchor I now help other women hold onto.
How did transitioning from fitness competitor/health coach into faith-driven mentorship change your identity? What did you let go of and what new self did you step into?
For years, my identity was shaped by performance — how fit I was, how disciplined I was, how hard I could push. I felt a need to always “strive” and feeling that way always kept me frustrated with myself. Fitness gave me structure, but faith gave me a new purpose. When God called me deeper, I had to let go of the identity built on “Do more, be more, prove more.” I had to release the pressure to be strong all the time and I had to let go of worrying about what people would think of me as I was outwardly speaking about my faith. If I can be honest, it was hard in the beginning, because no one likes to feel judged or talked about, but I kept saying to myself, “let go and let God” and this allowed me to step into my calling with ease. I stepped into a version of myself that was less about muscle and more about ministry. Less about appearance, more about anointing. Less about results, more about revival in women’s hearts. I didn’t lose who I was — I expanded into who I was always meant to become. A mentor. A leader. A woman who equips others with spiritual strength, not just physical.
You say you “feed faith and starve fear.” What does a day in your spiritual life look like now?
My days are anchored by three things: Scripture, stillness, and surrender. Before my eyes open in the morning and before I touch my phone or the world’s noise, I sit with God — even if it’s ten minutes. I open my Bible, journal, or pray out loud.
Some mornings feel powerful; some feel simple. But they all feed my faith. I practice small rhythms throughout the day:
• Breath prayers when anxiety tries to rise
• Speaking Scripture over myself
• Pausing to ask, “Lord, lead me right now”
• Worship music during chores or driving
• Evening reflection: “Where did I see You today?”
It’s not about perfection — it’s about staying connected, ALL DAY LONG! Fear grows in silence and isolation. Faith grows in consistency and communion.
When you lead women through fear, grief, or uncertainty, how do you hold space for them without losing your own emotional center?
I remind myself that I’m not their Savior — God is, and I make sure they understand this as well. My role is to guide and mentor, not carry. I’ve learned to hold space with compassion, but lead with boundaries and spiritual maturity. I listen deeply. I honor their pain. I validate their struggle. But I don’t absorb what isn’t mine to hold. That is where God takes over. I take everything I hear back to God in prayer. That’s where I release the weight. That’s how I stay centered — not by being emotionally detached, but by being spiritually anchored. I have learned that ministry without boundaries burns you out. But, ministry with God’s strength builds you up.
You’ve lived discipline through bodybuilding, bootcamps, and coaching. But where does surrender live in your story? How do control and faith coexist?
Discipline taught me how to push and how to keep showing up for myself, which creates beautiful momentum. Cancer taught me how to let go. I used to think strength meant gripping tightly — controlling outcomes, planning everything, forcing progress. But surrender is a higher strength. It’s saying, “God, I’ll give my best effort, but I won’t carry what’s Yours to carry.”
Control is rooted in fear. Surrender is rooted in faith. Now, discipline and surrender work together:
• I show up with excellence.
• I obey God’s promptings.
• I take action.
But I release the results, the timing, the pressure. That balance changed my entire life — and my leadership.
“I was never meant to be impressive—I was meant to be surrendered.”
Do you believe there’s purpose behind the storms you’ve weathered? How do you help others see that?
Absolutely. Pain is never wasted in the hands of God. Every storm I’ve endured — cancer, grief, depression, disappointment — became a place where God rebuilt me into someone stronger, softer, wiser, and more compassionate. The more I’ve weathered the storms with God by my side, the stronger I become through each of them, and I believe I lead by example. I don’t hide anything from my clients because I want to show them that they can do it too. Purpose doesn’t always show up in the tough moments. But it reveals itself in the healing. I help women see purpose by:
• reframing their pain through God’s promises
• helping them find the lesson and the strength in the struggle
• teaching them to pray through the storm, not just past it
• reminding them they’re being shaped, not destroyed
A storm becomes purposeful the moment you stop asking, “Why me?” and start asking, “What is God doing in me?”
If you could speak to your younger self during cancer, early motherhood, or seasons of doubt — what would you say? I would tell her:
Hold on, stay in the game, and keep going because God is carrying you through this, even when you don’t feel it.
I’d remind her that fear is loud, but God is louder. The hardest battles make the strongest champions. This mantra has given me more peace than I ever thought possible. I would also tell her that she isn’t failing — she’s growing. That the battles she hates today will become the stories that save others tomorrow. I’d tell her to stop trying to be perfect and let God be powerful. And I’d whisper, “Every tear, every setback, every unanswered prayer — it’s all making you the woman you’re becoming.” I’d tell her she’s going to rise. And she’s going to help thousands rise with her.
Has your faith ever wavered — have you felt anger or disappointment toward God? How did you navigate it?
Yes! Many times, I am human! There were seasons where I felt confused, disappointed, even angry. When healing took longer than I hoped. When prayers seemed quiet. When life felt unfair. When I felt alone in my mind and in my battles. But God can handle honesty. I learned to bring Him my raw emotions — not hide them. I’ve prayed uncomfortable prayers. I’ve journaled. I’ve cried a million tears. I’ve worshipped even when I didn’t feel like it. And slowly, God’s presence softened my questions and my heart, while also calming my mind. Faith isn’t the absence of doubt — it’s the decision to keep walking through it with God. Those seasons matured me. They taught me trust, resilience, and spiritual grit.
In a world obsessed with hustle and achievement, what does true success look like to you now?
Success to me is obedience and impact. It’s waking up knowing I’m aligned with God, not striving for applause or accolades. It’s seeing women’s lives transformed, families restored, faith reignited. It’s raising children who know Jesus. It’s using my voice, my story, and my scars for God’s glory. It’s having a strong marriage built on a strong foundation of trust and love. Success is peace.
Success is purpose. Success is becoming who God created me to be and helping others do the same. Everything else — trophies, numbers, platforms — is temporary. But the souls you touch, the faith you build, the legacy you leave… that’s eternal.
People see your public wins. But what about your inner scars — the ones that don’t show up in photos? What have they taught you about vulnerability and surrender?
My inner scars tell a story no spotlight ever could. They’re evidence of battles I fought quietly — seasons when fear was loud, when grief pressed heavy, when I questioned my value, my strength, and even my calling. Those scars taught me that vulnerability isn’t weakness — it’s worship. It’s choosing to let God into the places you wished no one would see. It’s admitting, “I don’t have this,” and watching Him say, “Good. Now I can.” My scars remind me I was never meant to be impressive — I was meant to be surrendered. And it’s in that surrender that God made me bold.
……..
“Sometimes the next breakthrough isn’t about doing more—it’s about letting go.”
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Kelley Tyan
You coach and lead women into confidence, courage, and faith. But what is one fear you STILL have to fight daily — and how do you overcome it?
The fear I battle most is the fear of “not enough.” Not accomplished enough. Not prepared enough. Not worthy enough of the platform God keeps giving me. But here’s the truth I fight with every single day: God never asked me to be enough — He asked me to be available. When that fear whispers, I go straight into prayer. I remind myself that boldness isn’t a personality trait — it’s a posture of trust. And every time I choose God over insecurity, confidence rises again like fire. This is how I keep showing up, day after day.
When you look back at your breast cancer diagnosis, what did that season awaken in you that you didn’t know you carried?
It awakened a warrior I didn’t know lived inside me. Cancer stripped away my comfort, but it revealed my calling. It forced me to decide whether I was going to crumble… or rise. I rose. It awakened a bravery that wasn’t built on muscles or mindset but on the Presence of God inside of me. It showed me that my life wasn’t just meant to inspire — it was meant to ignite others. That season didn’t break me. It birthed me, and now I have wings.
What’s one prayer that changed the trajectory of your life?
“God, lead me… even if it means letting go of everything I thought I wanted.” That prayer wrecked me — and rebuilt me. It shifted my identity, my marriage, my motherhood, my leadership, my voice, my mission. It taught me that obedience opens doors hustle never could. Every bold chapter of my life began with that one prayer of surrender.
If you could tell women one truth about God that would instantly change their confidence, what would it be?
That God never calls the qualified — He qualifies the called. Meaning: if He chose you, you’re already enough. You’re already equipped. You’re already anointed for the very thing you’re scared of. Confidence isn’t built by looking at who you are — it’s built by remembering Whose you are. Walk like a daughter. Lead like a warrior. Pray like a woman who knows heaven backs her.
You speak life into thousands of women — but what is ONE truth you live by every single day that keeps you grounded, grateful, and on fire for God?
“Nothing works unless I first go to God.”
Not my leadership.
Not my coaching.
Not my marriage.
Not my purpose.
Not my peace.
My fire comes from intimacy with God — not strategy.
My strength comes from prayer — not performance.
My clarity comes from obedience — not overthinking.
Every day I choose His presence over pressure… and that’s what keeps me bold, grounded, and unshakeable.
There is power in speaking your truth. How do you balance honesty about struggle with hope — so people feel both seen and uplifted?
I’ve learned that truth without hope can feel heavy… and hope without truth can feel hollow. So I share my story the way God writes it: honest about the valley, but anchored in victory. I don’t sugarcoat pain — because women need to know they’re not alone. But I also don’t stay there — because God never leaves us there. My balance is this: I reveal my wounds, but I highlight His healing. I speak about battles, but I point to His breakthrough. I honor the struggle, but I magnify the Savior. That combination lets people feel seen, strengthened, and sent out with hope.
If faith is a muscle, what has yours learned through years of training, setbacks, and breakthroughs?
My faith muscle has learned that resistance builds strength. Every setback was spiritual weight training. Every closed door was conditioning. Every “not yet” was endurance work. Every miracle was momentum. Over the years, I’ve learned that faith isn’t built in the moments that feel good, it’s built in the moments that demand trust. And the more I’ve trained it, the more my faith has learned to respond first — not fear. To stand firm — not shrink back. To expect God — not doubt Him. Now, my faith is strong not because I’m strong…but because I’ve learned to lean on the One who is.
When you dream about what’s next — beyond books, coaching, speaking — who is that future version of Kelley spiritually, emotionally, and relationally?
She is deeply rooted. Spiritually unshakeable. Led by peace, not pressure. She walks with God in a way that is both intimate and bold, like a woman who has nothing to prove but everything to pour. Emotionally, she is steady. Whole. Centered. Untouched by comparison, immune to intimidation, grounded in grace. Relationally, she is surrounded by people who sharpen her, pray with her, dream with her, and run with her. She pours into her marriage with even more joy, and into her children with even greater purpose. And her life? It’s marked by impact, global impact not from striving, but from obedience.
In coaching others through transformation, how do you protect your own spiritual and emotional boundaries to avoid burnout — while staying connected to God and the people you serve?
I protect my peace by protecting my presence — my presence with God. Before I pour out, I get poured into. Before I speak life, I sit with the One who gives it. Before I lead others, I let God lead me. I’ve learned that boundaries aren’t walls — they’re wisdom. They keep my heart soft, my spirit open, and my calling pure. I rest when God says rest. I speak when He says speak. I step back when I feel my soul getting loud… and I step forward when He breathes fresh fire.That’s how I stay connected without being consumed.
If you could invite readers to take one silent, honest pause right now — what question would you want them to ask themselves about their calling or next step?
“What is God asking me to release… so He can finally increase?” Because the next breakthrough often isn’t about doing more, it’s about letting go. Letting go of fear. Letting go of doubt. Letting go of old stories, old limits, old expectations. That one question has the power to open their heart, clarify their calling, and position them for the life God has been preparing them for.
Connect with Kelley Tyan
For those who feel called to continue the conversation, Kelley welcomes connection beyond the page.
Whether through mentorship, faith-centered guidance, or shared reflection, her work is rooted in presence, prayer, and purpose.
Website: www.kelleytyan.com
Podcast: Chosen by Jesus
youtube.com/@chosenbyjesuscbj