Hosanna Emily's Blog, page 7

God Moments || Eight Days of Hope

Look for God moments. 
And I don’t know where to start or what to write, because God moments are piled up around me, and I’m overwhelmed. 
So here goes: a little journal entry in my life where I followed God’s lead to step out, do something scary, and now I cry because it’s over and I miss it. 

 

Last week, I had the honor of serving with a team who loves Jesus to support the people of Louisiana. 
I was scared. Really scared. But God lined everything up—my job and schedule and ride—and I found myself at the doors of a Louisiana church with a banner on the front: Eight Days of Hope. 
The scent of the gulf, wind in my hair, and humidity that stuck to my arms. Savage mosquitos, mounting heat. We drove to Lake Charles, and their world had been devastated. 
Almost every roof was tattered, patched. Telephone wires hung limp and crunched under our vehicles. Trees pierced through homes. And people hurt. They shared stories. 
They talked of huddling in their homes as the hurricane tore all around them. Others returned from evacuation to find their houses soaked through, musty mold growing in every corner, and they have no options. A single woman with a tree limb stabbing through her kitchen roof, and her backyard is a tornado of branches, shingles, destruction. 
Scared. Alone. Hopeless. 
But I looked for God stories. And they piled around me as I raked the yard, revealing tiny sprigs of grass that yearned for sunshine. 
Jesus was in Louisiana. He was in the hugs we offered to homeowners, the prayers, the way neighbors saw us working and asked if we could help with their homes too. 
He was in the times of worship, guitar strums, as we shut our eyes and praised.
He was in the dirt that stuck to our sweat as we worked hard and loved harder. 
In traffic and tiredness, late-afternoon showers and clean clothes. In people offering to wash our laundry, in checking temperatures, and wearing masks. In felling trees and dragging branches and hearing a person’s story for the first time. In prayers He answered when I whispered fears, concerns, confusions to Him. And those prayers of praise and adoration, us rejoicing.
We worked and laughed and learned. And the people of Eight Days of Hope became a family as the Church united to serve hurting people for free just because we love Jesus.
It wasn't just individuals being nice. It was people loving Jesus and reaching out to be His hands. That's not just in mission trips or church services. It's in your neighborhood, your home, your room, your phone. 
I go home and miss people. I scribble notes in my journal, remember, look at pictures. I remember the beauty - in beachy air and sea birds flying, in houses with roofs tarped like quilted blankets, in pulling up a seat with a smile and, "I'm Hosanna, it's so nice to meet you," hearing their stories.
I find God stories.
They’re everywhere: in serving, at home, abroad, God working and using us when we surrender, rest, follow His leading. He answers prayer.
Friend, look for those God stories. Step out even if it scares you. Be part of the Church, rising up to love recklessly and serve unreserved.
Live today with the prayer of "live in me, Jesus." Surrendered, letting Him live instead of ourselves.
Maybe it's traveling across states or walking across the room. Maybe it's loving someone by wearing a mask or snuggling in a hug or praying right where they are.
But when we let go of ourselves and let Him live, it’s amazing.
Look for God moments, friend.

Only let your conduct be worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that whether I come and see you or am absent, I may hear of your affairs, that you stand fast in one spirit, with one mind striving together for the faith of the gospel. 

- Philippians 1:27

~♥~

 

Battle Plan for Fear (+ Story Snippets!)

 

My little sister sits at the top of “big slide”, two year-old fat-rolls on her legs, and she peers into the dark.

I wait at the bottom.

“Ready, Neena?” She calls to me, making sure I’m there.

I answer her, but she waits, hesitates. Her blue eyes widen.

“Scared.” She stands, backs away from the dark hole of “big slide.” “Neena, I scared.”

So I climb up, hold her on my lap, and we slide together, bodies tight. At the bottom, we laugh.

“See how fun it is?”

She nods and runs to the ladder, scrambles up with eager eyes, reaches the top of the slide again. But then she slows, shoulders fall, and she says it again. “Neena, I scared.”

I smile. “It’s going to be so fun! I’m ready to catch you, baby!”

She slides.

And then a hundred more times.

The fear disappears, and she asks me to take her to the “big slide” every single day.

Because the fear was that I was asking too much of her. That she’d get hurt. That she couldn’t trust me. But when she did, all that vanished. She trusted, and fear turned to excitement.

Now I have to convince her to stop sliding.  =)

You know if you’re afraid. You know what keeps you up at night worrying. And that single idea or person or situation is the very thing you’re not willing to trust Jesus with.

Because fear comes when you don’t think God can handle something or you’re not sure His handling of it will be what you want.

And there’s a three-word solution:

trust. surrender. Jesus.

It reminds me of a scene in The Torch Keepers, the allegorical fantasy novel God lead me to write. Chapter 9 is one of my favorites, added later in the editing process because it was just this simple yet precious picture of our relationship with Jesus. The scene starts with Ka-Dara experiencing her first thunderstorm.

Something rumbled, like when my tummy made funny noises, but this was deeper. It began low and then got louder.

And then a crash. Light lit up the room, pale and yellow…

“They-They’re gonna get us.” I whimpered between sobs. “Like they got me and Ka-Mama. They’ll burn everything and kill us.”

… “My child,” he said, “You are safe. Nothing can touch you when I am here. You must trust.”

My jaw quivered. “but they took away my daddy and mama.”

He nodded, and a shadow came across his forehead. “Your King has a plan. He has a purpose.”

“I don’t think—,” I hesitated, chewing on the back of my knuckles. “I don’t like His plan very much.” I looked up quickly. “Is that super bad?”

Lines creased his face. “The King still loves you.” He stood. “Let me show you, my child.”

He still held me in his arms as he walked toward the door. Opening it slowly, the outside world met us in a breath of cold air. The flashing light had gone, but the loud pounding continued. In the light of the fire, I saw the enemy—only drops of water falling onto the roof.

The rumbling sounded, but it was far away. Father smiled. “This is a rain storm, and you are safe.”

…I blinked and giggled. “I like this rain,” I said. “It’s fun.”

He rubbed water off my forehead. “The King made it for you. He knew you’d dance in it. He knew you’d love it.”

My mouth gaped. “Really? How’d he know?”

“He just does,” Father said. “He loves you.”

I grew serious. “Does the King know I was scared of his rain?”

“Yes.” He nodded soberly. “But that’s okay. A lot of people’s fears are silly when they realize it. But the King knows, and he loves anyway.”

“Big people too?”

“Especially big people.”                

 

Dear friend, just a reminder for me, for you.

The King knows our fear, and He loves just the same. And that beautiful Love vanquishes, casts out fear.

That’s an incredible place—where our fear, anxieties, are drowned in His perfect love. And when we trust Him and surrender to His will, it’s glorious.

Make the decision to trust. Rest in His love.

That relationship is all that matters.

 

You are of God, little children, and have overcome them, because He who is in you is greater than he who is in the world.
They are of the world. Therefore they speak as of the world, and the world hears them. 
We are of God. He who knows God hears us; he who is not of God does not hear us. By this we know the spirit of truth and the spirit of error.

- 1 John 4:4-6

For whatever is born of God overcomes the world. And this is the victory that has overcome the world—our faith. Who is he who overcomes the world, but he who believes that Jesus is the Son of God?

- 1 John 5:4-5

~♥~

The Word that Altered Forever

In the beginning, that Word was spoken.
And galaxies spun. Butterflies flashed color in a world void of those hues only moments ago. The first smile. The first roar. The first shooting star.
It was like a song, everything dancing to its tune, the Word that began life intricate.
When darkness and light first twirled together, when sounds twisted in harmonies, when smells erupted from a new earth, the aromas of moist soil and budding flowers and soft fur. And with it, laughter, a melody all in itself.
But sometimes I forget, the Word didn't only start life, it continues too.
I see glimpses of it in every day. The force beyond myself, something deep stirring, flowing, gathering up like mountains of water.
A breath - when I hear the popping of canning jars, sealing by some hand beyond my own.
A sound - when plants peek their heads above soil, fruits full of juice that appear on the branches, in the bushes, and it's because of something deeper than us. The corn tassels, golden brown, and vegetables that litter our countertop, and it's all because of that Word.
An echo - tiny miracles, like a littering of tadpoles in the watering trough, like that lone minnow found all alone in the creek, and yet even those are known and taken care of by His hand.
Sunflowers first in bloom in this beautiful July sunshine, and they rotate and follow the rays. And somehow, as I slip out of bed earlier than the others, I find that hint of sun on the edge of the horizon, and I watch it tickle the grass for the first time that day. Noon makes sweat line my lips, and my hair sticks to my skin. As the day cools, I still see light, falling away in the west, and clouds are pink and soft and bubbly.
I want to be like the sunflowers, following the rays, seeing the Word all around me.
When noon comes, and I sweat and grow hot and forget the morning's glory, I want to keep my face up like those flowers, sink my roots deep, listen for His music.
There's beauty to be found. Always. 








Jesus was the Word, and He is, still. He set the world in motion, the stars in place, and He still holds today.
And deep inside, I pray that Word, Jesus, settles in, becomes the entity of who I am. That the force that established the heavens is my simple heart melody, the steps that I take. That my lips repeat His song, that I see His works all around me.
So I'll awake with the sunrise, savor the first stars and that planet that tinges the horizon. I'll think of Him as I slip through the gardens, nibble on the blackberry's tart juice, stand under spotted shade as I fill the cows' trough, see tadpoles.
And remember that it's a relationship. It's me and Him, us. That's the beauty.
The Word is everything.
And I'll sing His song.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.  He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through Him, and without Him nothing was made that was made.  In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.

- John 1:1-5

 

That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, concerning the Word of life—the life was manifested... we write to you that your joy may be full.

- 1 John 1:-2, 4

 

~♥~

She Walks Down the Aisle || a short story

The Aisle trickles before me. 
The pathway is a ribbon, edged in white, inside painted green with the grassy clover that sweeps to both sides, meeting the trees, then up, canopy. They’re like castle walls, this path is the drawbridge, and I hear crocodiles on both sides. 
But when I stand here, feet on gravel, at the edge of the path before me, I can see it all. 
The road I’ll walk in the morning, Father by my side, me in white, my groom waiting. This moment I’ve dreamed of. 
Yet now, as the party disperses, night settles, I’m walking down it before. 
There’s a dripping in the trees, the kiss of today’s misty rain. Fireflies blink, syncopation. I smell wet mud, grass, the flowery perfume of the wedding party gone moments ago from the rehearsal. 
It’s different now. I wear exercise shorts in neon pink, a thin shirt hanging on my shoulders. My hair falls in messy curls that frizz from the rain. 
I cross my arms, tight. 
Because here, on this gravel, I’m safe. I can just live life. I can keep going the way I always have, change nothing. 
The first step to the Aisle, into that rich grass, changes everything. 
And it’s growing darker. The path leads deeper into the forests’ shadows. I hear the raindrops falling. Crickets pick up their song, noisy bugs and frogs joining in the twilight reverie. 
I can see the pathway until it curves around the trees. The rest is imagination. 
I shiver. It’s silly, but I imagine bears or cougars in the night, I think of the reasons why I shouldn’t walk down tonight; I could wait for tomorrow when light and people make it safe, easy. When my fiancé stands before me, watching me in silky dress, blushing cheeks. 
I hear my Lover whisper. 
And I take the first step.


























Clover curls around the dirty shoes I wear. I feel mud squish down. Raindrops tickle my hair. 
My heart thunders like a storm, and I’m scared to go forward and scared to go back. I want Him so badly, and yet that surrender and falling into His arms leaves me vulnerable. Open. Bare like a newborn child, crying for his mother because, without her, he is utterly helpless. 
Another step. 
I slide in mud, body shakes to steady myself. 
Step.
A branch falls in the trees, I jerk, stare, then turn my eyes back towards the Aisle and inhale deep. 
As I walk, it’s this decision to abandon everything for a Person. Tomorrow it will be for the man who captured my heart, the man who makes me laugh, who knows my secrets, who wants to live the rest of his life with me as his own. My heart quickens. 
But tonight, it’s more. 
It’s leaving myself utterly behind to be joined to a King who declares me forgiven, holy, beloved. It’s me becoming nothing so that He can make me His own, give me His life to live, and ever be by my side. 
Nothing can separate me from this Lover. 
He is the embrace when my heart hurts deeper than anyone else can know. He is the hope I grab when I want to give up, to run, to hide from it all. He is the joy when I see the sunrise mixed with morning fog, the first spring rainbows, the stars shooting across the heavens, and He gives every one of those good gifts. 
He makes me laugh hardest. He knows my deepest secrets. He wants to live the rest of forever with me as His own. 
And that’s why I step, trembling, my legs with raised goosebumps and neon shorts tinged with drops. 
But the best thing—this Lover walks down the Aisle with me. 
I’m scared. He holds my hand, and I feel His presence in the last bird song. 
I slip, straighten, and we laugh—together. 
Tomorrow the mud will be dry, tables set, but today is somehow more beautiful. 
The sun sets behind me, and I see the glow through misty fog, slight orange reflected in the trees. The Aisle turns a corner, and tables are set up, cloths pulled up above to keep off the rain. I see knobby chair legs and the remains of tonight’s dinner that will be cleaned up as the sun rises. 
And the Arch. 
Rising before us, me and Him, the two tree trunks meeting and the cross high above interwoven. Tomorrow there’ll be flowers too, gold and purple hues, but tonight it’s just the rustic wood, the reminder of us. 
And at the Arch, I’m alone but not alone. I still shiver, still glance into the forest, but He gently turns my chin up, and I exhale. My breath meets twilight. 
I kneel in moist leaves mixed with new grass. 
Forehead touches the soil. 
And surrender all to this One who loves more than any other, to the One who is ever good, to the One who wills me to take His life, His goodness, His love, and live it. 
My name is changed. I become His. 
For in this holy moment, it’s not just a kiss and then life goes on. It’s a forever that is just beginning and will go on till the end of the age and then further. 
Here, a Prince took a peasant and made her a Princess. 
She’s me. 
I raise my eyes towards the misty sky, tinge of grey and orange and blue, and, for that moment, I forget the shadows and dangers because I’m enraptured by the Lover who has me in His arms. 
Everything changes. 
Tomorrow, I’ll do it again for the man whose ring I wear, but tonight I seal my heart to the heavenly One who called us together in the first place. 
We love because He first loved us. 
I stand, wipe mud off my legs, shake the shirt that hangs loose on my shoulders. As the first stars appear and try to peek through the atlas of clouds, I walk back up the Aisle. 
But things changed. 
I’m not myself. I’m bought with a price. I’m beloved. I’m His. 
So this time, I skip. I run. And I don’t care if I slip because life is beautiful, and it’s His.




                                     

Dear Friend,
This is a little story to remind you, me, that we're being pursued, loved. Jesus is seeking your heart, and He bids us surrender all and follow Him. Like the wedding day that changes everything in a beauty we dream of, we now get to share our everything with Jesus as we surrender our mistakes, sins, fears, and take on His life. And that's why we rejoice.  ♥
*hugs*
 

​Seek the LORD while He may be found,Call upon Him while He is near.Let the wicked forsake his way,And the unrighteous man his thoughts;Let him return to the LORD,And He will have mercy on him;And to our God,For He will abundantly pardon...For you shall go out with joy​​,And be lead out with peace.

- Isaiah 55:6-7, 12

~♥~

The Secret that Gives Life Purpose

My little brothers are in the yard, one running, white net billowing behind him. He chases butterflies, grasshoppers, tries to tangle them in his net, see the little creatures up close. The other brother stalks, green slips of grass between his toes, sneaking up on the insects. Sometimes he drops to his knees and crawls like a panther. His net lies flat against his back. Waiting. Searching.
And I'm like them, me here, sometimes running sometimes stalking. I'm searching for moments. I'll keep swinging my net, trapping time between my fingers, and seeing the beauty in the little things.







I used to think life was made up of time.
I'd write for an hour. Eat and clean up for thirty minutes. Go on a 15-minute walk.
I thought life was trying to cram as much productivity as possible in a 14-hour day, fill my journal with how much I'd done, and then sleep, satisfied.
The problem: I never do enough.
I can't write enough. I can't blog enough. I can't spend enough time with my siblings, with Jesus, with helping around the house. My work is half-hearted, mind distracted.
Because life isn't meant to be lived on a watch.
I want to go back to the Garden of Eden. Where life is made up of moments, of relationships, of beauty.
Where I sit here, window blinds open, watch the raindrops on the glass. A thousand crystals, clear gems of every shape and size. One's a teardrop, another like eyes watching me; the one on the right slides down, slowly, and is joined by others as the clouds release their treasures of liquid diamonds.
Moments: like watching her walk down the aisle, white veil on her back, hair dark - brunette, as her eyes meet her lover's and they hold hands, kiss for the first time.
Another: Highlighters scattered across a white desk, the hues a picture only I see, but it's beautiful in colors a camera could never capture. The sapphire, emerald, orange.
I hear rain. I smell petrichor, that scent of the drops against the soil. Puddles splash, the geese stand in awe. A sibling lays on my bed and asks questions, break from writing, moments to treasure.





Because I read of Heaven, of the New Jerusalem, where foundations are made of sardius and beryl and glorious precious stones. I read of gates of pearls, of being with Him forever, that relationship, that water of life He gives freely.
Not to-do lists. Not alarms or watches or schedules. Yes, there's good in those, and Eden had its share of work. We were made to do good, to take care of the gifts and talents God has entrusted to us. But that's not the core.
Just Him, beauty, because it comes from Him too.
Oh, to walk by that pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, from the throne of God and of the Lamb! But even today, we're called. We're chosen. We're loved by the one from whose face the earth and the heaven fled away.
That beautiful, beautiful truth!
So if COVID goes on forever, I want to capture moments. If life returns to the same normal as before, I want to rejoice.
One day, we're going to stand before this God and account for every work we did. I want to know I lived them for Him, I loved Him, I made sacrifices and abandoned all for Jesus.
Yes, we work hard, we press on, we make schedules and sometimes have to rush to get tasks completed in time.
But it comes down to this: He is the center. He is Life. He is good.
And this life is a gift. So I want to run through the green grass and catch those moments, the resting and the working, catching them in white, silky nets, savor them, rejoice in Him, and know He is God.
To live life knowing I am His, I am loved, and I can draw near Him at any time, accepted because of Jesus.
That's Life.

...as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from heaven saying, "Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His people. God Himself will be with them and be their God...
Behold, I make all things new... I will give of the fountain of the water of life freely to him who thirsts. He who overcomes shall inherit all things, and I will be his God and he shall be My son."
- Revelation 21:2-3, 5-7

~♥~

COVID + Why I'm Not Looking for a New Normal

I wasn't planning to write a post about COVID.
*smiles* But here goes. Because this is my prayer, my fear, the hope I keep reminding myself of, and what I'm living for.
I don't want a new normal.
We don't need a new normal.






God is writing new stories, and I love them.
I love the way He pulls the carpet out from under us by closing cities, locking us in our homes, and making us stop. I love it because when we fall, we remember.
We write letters to old friends we miss. We video chat, have real conversations. We sit around the family table and are all together. We play games, raise our faces towards the sunshine, and actually live life instead of running through it.
We pray more. We love more.
I hurt too; I hurt for the nursing homes where people suffer and live alone, sick. I hurt for families with parents in the hospital, young adults who struggle for every breath, people scared and lonely and hurting. I hurt for graduates without celebrations, weddings postponed, beautiful occasions passing by alone. All this is not God's heart, not the way He desires life to be. But it happened.
Yet even so, there is beauty, incredible beauty.
Quarantine brought me on long walks. I planted tiny seeds, watched them bud into sprigs of green. I gathered with the family to listen to audiobooks, groaning at cliff hangers, and trying to guess what would happen yet. I saw sunshine and rainbows and baby animals and spring flowers. I stared at stars, glimpsed the first fireflies.
But things are changing. Stores are opening. Churches having services. Friends meeting. Running shoes put on for this race to continue once again.
We'll go back to work. We'll visit again, we'll sing.
But we don't need a "new normal."
The last normal was broken. Many of us were too busy, too distracted. We lived crazy lives and forgot to savor the little moments.
I want life to change. I want history books to write that COVID altered a lot—and we stepped up and lived in a new way.
We loved more. We realized the beauty and stories of every single person. We took time to be still and know that He is God. We surrendered to Him, let Him guide our lives completely. We sang, rejoiced, went to work with a smile, and did school with joy.
Where we didn't just go to church, but we became the Church. We didn't just pray and read and memorize and give more, but we let Him be the center focus of our life where everything revolved around Jesus.
I want our generation to stand up, to realize that we were created for such a time as this, to dance and sing in Jesus' glory, and yet to fight the enemy with fierce determination because we know who we are in Jesus.
And, in all, to live in the quiet place where we know Jesus intimately, love Him completely, and see life through His eyes.
Be still and know that He is God.
But it's not just for us, for this country; it's for me.
I will seek Jesus. I will rest in Him. I will know who I am in Him, Who He is, and how that changes everything.
And I'll praise!
I'm not looking for a new normal, not wanting to keep running and living old stories. Let's write new ones. Let's live the way we've always known we should, seek the dreams He has given us, and rest.
Let's rise up as the Church.
God is writing new stories; I want to be part of them.
Practically?
That means I'm getting on my knees. I'm setting apart time. I'm worshiping and remembering who I am and Who He is.
And it's beautiful.

Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts... humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He will lift you up.

- James 4:8, 10

Create in me a clean heart, O God, And renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me away from Your presence, And do not take Your Holy Spirit from me.

- Psalm 51:10-11

 

 ~♥~

Purpose in Today + Freebies!

I'm sitting here where the creek dances under a rock, and I'm above it, above all of it.
Paper growing wet on this old log, fallen. Little holes in its flesh; I wonder. I wonder if termites make their hiding places here in secret crags. I wonder if woodpeckers used to sink their beaks deep into the bark that's now rotted away. Did the tree know it would fall, where water plays under this rock? Where puddles sleep, I see a worm drowning, and I save it. Us girls gather round for picnics, throwing peanut shells and watching them float away.
Old times, new times, ones I can't see yet. All beautiful and caked with stories and sunshine.
There are old lessons to relearn and remember, new ones to dig up like treasure. And ones in the future I can only dream of.
Today I'm going back, wondering what life is. What it means.
Because we talk so much about what Jesus did, and we grow calloused to it. We talk about His death. It's beautiful. It's amazing.
While we were sinners, Christ died for us. While we were enemies, He chose us.
What story has the hero die for the villain? What type of purpose, meaning, love would that be?
We're all Adam. We've sinned, we've struggled, we used to be enemies. We fought Him, mocked Him as if we were the soldiers that nailed Him to that cross.
He loved anyway.
He died anyway.
But it doesn't stop there. We aren't just saved, reconciled, justified. We're righteous.
God looks at us and sees Jesus.

For if, while we were his enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of His Son, how much more surely, having been reconciled, will we experience further salvation through his life?... we also exalt the acts of God.

- Romans 5:10-11

His death brought us life, and now we reign in that life through Him (Romans 5:17)!
I love that word: reign. It means reigning as a King, exercising that dominion, authority.
With Jesus, you're not just you. He. is. in. you. Everything changes.
So I think of the forests, the water that hides under the rock, the tree fallen so many years ago and now only a rotting stump, and it is beautiful. Jesus died, and that changes my forever. He lives, and I live in Him.
Every moment has a purpose. And we rejoice!
A reminder for me, for you, for today. No matter what you've done, in Christ, you are righteous, pure, spotless. And He wants to live in you, to take over your ordinary life and make it epic.
Surrender. Rest. Abide. Shalom.
And if you need truth reminders, I have freebies from me to you, including bookmarks, posters, and quotes! I've enjoyed designing them and digging through Romans 5, and I hope you can print them out, save them on your device, or dig into Romans yourself to remember who you are and Who He is.

Click Here!

You have a purpose, dear friend.
*hugs*

If, as a result of the one man's offence, death began to hold sway because of that one man, how much more surely will those who now experience this - God's abundant provision of grace and of the gift of salvation - come to hold authority in life because of the one man, Jesus the Messiah?

- Romans 5:17

~♥~

Rejoicing in the Lord Always

Through the trees, I hear something beautiful.
Children's laughter, shouts, happiness in pure music and joy. Like the very expression of true life summarized in melodic noise. With the singing of the birds, traffic on distant winds, people coughing, walking, living, this noise rises above, and it's music, and it's beautiful. Beside a hospital's hard, white walls and beyond the masked faces and long days, the playground erupts in that noise.
I see something beautiful too.
A dozen colors. Every shirt different, the shades and hues like a rainbow but curving in arches as the children rise up, swing down, rise again.
Legs pump, tiny fists clench, heads thrown back. Their hair flies, more laughter, more screams. They swing a dozen times and then again, again, forever, and "push me higher!" That girl in pink, still holding on as others slip away and go inside. She tries to pump herself higher. Curly, brown hair, still swinging, lower and lower. She doesn't seem to notice, to care, because she's still flying like the stars.
The skies are darker now. Rain will fall, and it will be cold and wet and fierce. But I hear those children, see the colors, and it's the rainbow in this coming storm.
There are no masks. No worries about germs and dumping on hand sanitizer. It's early morning, so they play.
The girl with a red bow in her sweeping, blond hair.
The child swinging so low I can't see him above the rise of the ground.
The one crying, picked up, and running again.
And still, that first girl I saw, the one in pink, she's a bird flying back and forth and singing with her laughter.
I see it all, and I will remember it forever.
I will remember what joy sounds like. I will remember how the masks were thrown off because life was too beautiful to hide from. I will remember the sunshine of their smiles amidst the upcoming rain. I will never forget how that hospital with hard walls listened to the children laughing, and somehow it was more beautiful too, marble.
And I will be like those children. I will laugh and play and not just say God is good but believe it. Live in it.










Rejoice always, He says, and I rejoice.
You are loved, His promises, and they're true.
I will never leave you, my hope.
I'm not scared of corona or this storm or what tomorrow may bring, because I'm too busy playing on the swings and rejoicing in Jesus.
Somehow, that seems more like life than the one we know.
He has made everything beautiful.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
And lean not on your own understanding;
In all your ways acknowledge Him,
And He shall direct your paths.

- Proverbs 3:5-6

The girl in pink is gone. Maybe she's on the jungle gym now, dancing and climbing to the squeaks of the swings. Seats flying, hinges scraping metal, and I love the sound.
Wind, cool. Leaves with points and patterns like snowflakes; I wonder if any two of them are exactly alike?
A million gifts and beauties, and we rejoice.

The Lord has done great things for us, And we are glad. 

- Psalm 126:3

~♥~

Satisfied in His Footsteps

Satisfied.
I'm running through the forest trees until I find where their fingers open up, revealing a palm of rippling water, laughing springs, tadpoles swimming, and fish darting away. I inhale. Those spring flowers, purple, mixed with laughing daffodils and rose blossoms and violets in hues of purple and yellow and white. Drops on hidden soil, the humus and leaves together, and I smell a rainforest.
I walk those paths, the little cleanings through brambles and sharp branches. I see sunrays floating through trees' boughs, and they dance and sing in the wind.
And it's forever; every tree swaying and singing and trembling to the sound of His voice.
The forest watches me, all those eyes and burrows, nuts spread like a bumpy carpet before me. And I walk, always walk, finding those footsteps I long to mix mine with.
Depressions sink into muddy soil, two almost half-moons from the deer, the childlike hands of the raccoon. I see droppings and tree-rubs and holes left from woodpeckers. But the steps I long to see, I search for them.
And when I find His footprints, I run. I follow them. I dance with the trees, sing! I tromp through the creeks and splash in His beauty and presence and friendship.
That's when I'm satisfied.
His path leads me up. We ascend the high hills, enter grassy meadows. I see where seed heads part, where He already passed through. I throw myself forward, follow. The plants itch my legs, but I'm safe in this way He set before me.
The flowers are different here, more harsh with bitter-sharp sides. Little peeks of goldenrod and iron-weed and a thousand other flowers are the walls around me as I follow His footsteps.
Sometimes I fall too. But the beautiful thing is that here, where bird songs ring and air is strong, I'm not alone.
This pathway is His pathway, and He is here. Ordinary things are extraordinary, and life has purpose.
I'm not a slave to fear or people or time or tasks or anything in this world. I'm on the edge of a journey that will last forever, an endless frontier, and I've only seen the beginning. But I'm satisfied here, because the world is gone and I have Him.
I walk or skip or dance down these trails, and when I get off them, I cry and hurt and break. So I find them again, His footprints, the places He went and draws me into.
He is faithful.









Dear Friend,
Are you satisfied, completely and abundantly satisfied?
You're not a slave.

You're not a slave to what other people think of you. You're not a slave to time, to your schedule, to sleep, to eating, to anything. Nothing can control you, can define you; You're His.
Jesus'.
And that's where satisfaction comes from.
So if you're struggling to smile today, if you feel empty, know that He's there. Look for His footprints, and ask Him to draw you to His high places. Remember Who He is, and pray for the fear of the Lord.
He is faithful and merciful and true, and nothing can separate you from that love. Nothing.
Happy Today; you're never alone.
*hugs*

Righteousness will go before Him,
And shall make His footsteps our pathway.

- Psalm 85:13

You will show me the path of life;
In Your presence is fullness of joy;
At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

- Psalm 16:11

~♥~

The Torch Keepers || Audio Book Release

Once upon a time, a little dream was born.

And I'm overwhelmed at how God works. From the first short story to a manuscript and then publishing, somehow, Kadira and Rekém's stories came alive. And today, I'm so thrilled to say that The Torch Keepers is now also available as an audio book!
The narrator, Anna True , is premiering her talent with this audio recording, and I have been blown away by the ability God has given her with accents (yes, all the feels!), emotion, expressions, and so much more.
What's crazy is that God took Anna's and my little dream and helped it grow.
We're not qualified. But God's grace is amazing, and He has given us everything we need for life and godliness.  ♥
The key is surrender. Let go of your dreams and let Him dream bigger.

And in the hard times, push through. After hours of edits, Anna's biggest piece of advice is just that: "Push through the challenging, non-fun parts of your project/art, because, if you love it and believe it's an impacting story you're telling, it will be well worth it. And you'll learn new skills."

No matter what, God has bigger plans than you know.
I wanted The Torch Keepers to be a short story.
      He turned it into a novel + audio book.
I wanted it to inspire someone.
      He used it to change my life.
And way beyond. God is good, even when we can't see or understand how or why. He is good and does good. And He is faithful. It might not always turn out the way we imagine, but, one day, we'll understand why.
If you want to explore this story as an audio adventure, click the links below (more sites to be added this month!)


Kobo
iTunes Books
Scribd


OR.
You can listen for FREE.
We're having a Live Reading every night this week starting today. And the recordings will be up until the next day's reading!
So click here at 7:00 PM est to explore Kadira and Rekém's lives and this story God put into my heart. (and enjoy those amazing accents!)
He is amazing. ♥

For He made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.

- 2 Corinthians 5:21

~♥~