I did my best, but my creative spirit outpaced my knowledge.

I set out to create a companion for my brand, Wordwhispers: “Where Quiet Lines Linger and Words Speak Their Peace.” Mugs felt ideal: a warm drink paired with a verse to start every morning with hope.

I began building a Shopify site on Nov. 1, convinced I had plenty of time. My husband and I once learned to tile a bathroom by watching YouTube. Surely, designing mugs would be easier.

The first project was born from a Facebook post: a dark forest with a shining star and a quote from my upcoming book: “Some of the best parts of living … happen in the shadows of those hard times and dark places.”

The response was magical. Engagements on my Facebook author page exceeded 1,000 per day, and, for the first time, my writing resonated with the 35-to-44 age group. Still, I wondered: Why do so many in the prime of life find themselves in dark places? I wanted to do more.

I found a YouTube tutorial on full-wrap mugs, uploaded my design, and loved the mockup. My first ad went live — and five orders came overnight. It felt meant to be.

Then my sample mug arrived in the mail. It was awful, with faint colors, a tiny design, and unreadable text. Only the star looked right.

You can’t change an active ad, so I deleted it, refunded orders, closed the shop, and started a crash course on pixels and compression.

Armed with new knowledge, I refined the design and placed another ad. However, a warning appeared: While the pixels were correct, my image was too large and the manufacturer wouldn’t guarantee results.

Down came another ad.

I decided to wait for physical samples. When they arrived, everything looked flawless: the color, the print, and the words. Confident, I relaunched. Site traffic soared to over 2,400 visitors. But there were no sales. After hours with Shopify and Facebook support, I learned that an integration glitch showed “zero inventory.”

For the third time, I deleted my ad.

Support calls continued, each side adamant their platforms were fine. Finally, Shopify suggested “reindexing.” If it worked, I’d only have five days left to promote. My manufacturer’s Christmas deadline was Dec. 10.

Two days later, I sent one last Shopify chat: “Are my problems fixed?” The agent responded, “Everything is synced! All systems are working great!”

The final order of mugs was delivered — and they were perfect. On Dec. 5, I relaunched ads on Facebook, Google, and elsewhere.

But it was too late.

Aside from a few likes, the ads went unnoticed. My dream of someone being comforted on Christmas morning with a warm cup of coffee and a message was over.

Then I saw a comment: “Yet another grifter!” I didn’t even know the word. I looked it up: a swindler, a con artist. I was crushed. But with all those disappearing ads, I eventually understood why the commenter thought this.

What she didn’t see were the nights spent learning pixels, the refunds, and the heart that only wanted to offer encouragement. She didn’t know how close I was to one of those dark places I wrote about.

But here’s what I want her — and you — to leave with: It was in the shadows of this journey that I found the best parts of me. That was always the message of hope I wanted to give. May my story remind you that it is through our most difficult trials that our greatest strengths begin to shine.

May Jesus’ birth be your light this holiday season.

Merry Christmas.