Leah Vidal's Blog, page 2
July 2, 2024
Light Up The Sky – Front Page News!
Light Up The Sky made headlines today! My 365 Day Devotional and the story behind it was featured in the New Braunfels Herald-Zeitung. Follow the link for the full article.
Light Up The Sky, a devotional for young male athletes was recently named Finalist in the 2024 International Book Awards. Grab a copy right here in my shop 
June 21, 2024
2024 International Book Award Finalist
Just announced…Light Up The Sky was named a Finalist for the 2024 International Book Awards! God is good! More to come!
2024 International Book Awards Press Release
Official seal to be added to book cover
June 11, 2024
Are You Using All Of Your Features?
Photo by Leo Arslan on Pexels.com
" data-medium-file="https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com..." data-large-file="https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com..." src="https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com..." alt="pile of electronic waste" class="wp-image-29669" srcset="https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com... 975w, https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com... 225w, https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com... 768w, https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com... 900w, https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com... 600w, https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com... 450w, https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com... 300w, https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com... 150w" sizes="(max-width: 900px) 100vw, 900px" data-recalc-dims="1" />Photo by Leo Arslan on Pexels.comI have a confession to make. Hear me out. Try not to judge me, hard as it may be. In this smart world of ours, full of devices meant to enhance our lives, I still prefer good old-fashioned paper. I’m not a fan of e-readers or phone calendars. Although, I have used both. I still prefer to hold an actual book in my hands and turn the pages. Nothing better than cracking open a brand-new book and taking a deep breath of that new book smell. As I sit here typing, you should know I already wrote this all out on paper first. It’s how my brain works.
I am the person who doesn’t use all the features on her phone. Love the convenience of alarms, apps, and emails on it but when I get a new phone, I learn the basics and get to using it. I’m the same with my Apple watch. I just recently learned I can cover the watch screen with a quick tap and dismiss a notification. I won’t tell you how long I’ve owned it. I’m the same way with every camera I’ve ever owned. For the longest time I just went with the auto setting for taking photos because I had no idea how to use any of the other features. To this day, I know I am not using my camera to its fullest potential.
I started to wonder if I’m using my own God-given features to their fullest potential. God created us with a unique set of features and a plan for us. How many of those features are we ignoring as we go about our day? Are we sticking to the basics and trekking through each day wondering why some seasons in our life are so hard while others seem lighter? We were created to live to our fullest potential and given a lifetime to do it. Are we wasting time simply going through the motions when we could be so much more?
Are we delaying His plan for us because we haven’t tapped into those talents, skills, intuitions that he blessed us with?
When we make a purchase that requires assembly it often comes with a manual. If we ignore the manual and dive right into building we might miss key steps. We might get lucky and be successful in our building, but the steps we skipped might have been useful down the line. We’ll never know. God provides us with an instruction manual too. One that will enhance our features, provide valuable lessons, and make us successful on our journey to what He has planned for each of us. If we think it’s sufficient to have the basics figured out, I guarantee we are missing out on our God-given features. We need to figure out what He equipped us with, study His manual, and truly learn what we are capable of. And, if you believe you’ve gotten to that point, remember updates are as necessary for humans as they are for our devices.
February 25, 2024
January 24, 2024
Morning Coffee Chats…A Hard Habit To Break.
Photo by EYAD Tariq on Pexels.com
" data-medium-file="https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com..." data-large-file="https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com..." src="https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com..." alt="cappuccino in ceramic mug" class="wp-image-29415" srcset="https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com... 975w, https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com... 225w, https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com... 768w, https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com... 900w, https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com... 600w, https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com... 450w, https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com... 300w, https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com... 150w" sizes="(max-width: 900px) 100vw, 900px" data-recalc-dims="1" />Photo by EYAD Tariq on Pexels.comAfter my mom passed away, mornings were the toughest time of day for me. Before she died, mom and I used to start most mornings on the phone over coffee. Some days I would call her, and she would say, “give me a few minutes to grab my coffee and I’ll call you right back.” Having lived in different states since I left home for college, I can’t recall exactly when we started that daily habit, but it became a part of my life in a way I sorely missed once she was gone.
During those morning calls over coffee, we covered so much. We would always start with a prayer. On the days that time allowed, we would also try and “fix the world” as she would often say when we got caught up in political or worldly discussions. Then, there were days when we simply covered the little things. Like what the kids were up to or what we had on our schedules that day. We checked in with each other at other times too. A quick text or call but nothing compared to our morning chats.
After mom died, there were days when it took all I had to even get out of bed in the morning. When I did manage, I would sit with my cup of coffee and cry, barely able to take a sip. It didn’t taste right, and it definitely didn’t feel right. I couldn’t even pray because I was so upset that mom wasn’t there to pray with me, and quite frankly I was a little mad at God for taking her from me. How could I take on the day, when I couldn’t even get through my morning?
A couple of months later, my sister-in-law gifted me a small devotional for Christmas. She showed me hers, a little worn from years of use. There were highlighted sections, a year – sometimes two, and a note in the margin that reflected why that passage spoke to her. She shared how from one year to another, she would revisit the highlighted sections and her accompanying notes. Each time it served as a reminder of where she had been, but also how far she had come since then.
I was desperate to replace my morning coffee chats with mom so that I could begin to move on. The first day of January, I made a commitment to myself and God that I would read that devotional every morning. The first morning, I cried so hard I could barely see the words in the book, but thankfully it was just short enough to get through. As the days turned into weeks, I slowly realized it was exactly what I needed. There was no replacing my conversations with mom, and I’m not sure my morning cup of coffee will ever taste as good. However, I am confident mom is pleased with how prayer became part of my mornings once more and helped me deal with her loss. These days, instead of coffee with mom, I make a daily choice to join Jesus for a cup.
Since starting my mornings with a devotional, it has become my favorite part of my day. The hope and peace it provides arms me for whatever the day holds in store. One day, I went looking for a devotional to gift my teenage son. I found numerous books for young girls, women, husbands, fathers, even children. What about our young men? How will we guide them to become good husbands and fathers? I decided to write one myself. And, because my son is an athlete, I wrote it with him and his teammates in mind. In a world that seems intent on discouraging our young men from embracing the male qualities God gave them, I hop this devotional inspires them to:
Be the man God intends you to beBe strong in your faithDevelop a closer relationship with GodAlways put God firstBe dependable, loyal, and disciplinedLive each day in a way you can be proud ofPurchase a copy of Light Up The Sky right here in my shop. Use code love20 at checkout for a 20% discount. Active until February 14th.
December 23, 2023
Mom’s Christmas Plate
My mom had a plate she displayed on the kitchen counter. It was white, rectangular shaped, and sat on a small easel. Nothing out of the ordinary really. She used it as a makeshift bulletin board mostly for reminders. With a dry erase marker she would jot down an appointment reminder or a couple of items she didn’t want to forget to grab next time she was at the grocery store. “Oculista: Martes 10:30” or “Leche, Arroz, Huevos.” As the seasons changed she alternated a little colored ribbon in the top corner. It sat there so long it had become as much of a fixture as the rice cooker or the blender.
After she passed away, my sister and I had the overwhelming job of sorting through her belongings and tying up loose ends as is customary with the loss of a loved one. There were multiple trips to Home Depot for moving boxes while fielding phone calls and messages from family, friends, and neighbors. The hospital needed us to come by and pick up her belongings. The funeral home needed us to pick up her death certificate. We had a tight window in which to do it and a mountain of grief weighing us down. My sister and I had come together in Florida but she lived in New Jersey and I in Texas so we had to work fast, decide what each was keeping, and what was being donated.
We spent our days in mom’s two bedroom condo going through clothing, kitchen appliances, bedding, and jewelry before retiring to our hotel room at night. On day three, I opened the closet where mom kept stacks of photo albums she had lovingly filled, I knew my heart could not handle sorting through it. I inherited my love of photography from my mom. Memories of her aiming a camera at us at birthdays, holidays or just a weekend at the park washed over me like icy water. She took such joy not only in capturing moment after moment of our childhood, but also in processing the film and providing prints to my grandmother, my aunt, and anyone else who had shared in creating that memory. I stood in front of the closet long enough for my sister to come looking for me. Shoulder to shoulder we stood in silence.
On the shelf below the albums were photo boxes filled with what I knew would be my mom’s smile come to life once more, the sound of my brother, my sister, and my giggles as we opened gifts from Santa Christmas morning, the smell of my dad’s cigarette as it dangled from his lips because his hands were playing his conga drum. I wasn’t ready to relive those moments when I could barely face the thought of a world where every memory created from this day forward would not include my mom. The tears came without warning. The sobs sounded like they belonged to a stranger. Going through the rest of the apartment was painful enough. Where would I find the strength to complete this task knowing these photos were now the only place I would ever see my mom’s face?
I headed into the kitchen to catch my breath, opened the fridge to grab a water, and caught a glimpse of my mom’s plate. It had a red and green ribbon tied to the corner which was strange because it was only September. I remember wondering if mom had changed out the ribbon early this year or if it had been there since last Christmas and I just hadn’t noticed. Grief is funny that way. Every little thing matters and nothing matters. I walked up to the plate to read mom’s handwriting and felt my heart race as I read the words that felt more like a lifeboat. While I was drowning in pain over the challenge of mom’s photos, her message was sitting in the next room just waiting for me to see it.
“Beleive in God! With Him everything is Posible.”
I could hear her voice. I could feel her encouragement. My sister and I spent the night sorting photos at the hotel. Thankfully, mom had quite a few duplicates which made divvying them up a bit easier. We cried and laughed and cried some more reliving priceless moments until the sun came up. That morning back at her condo, I packed up the Christmas Plate careful to keep mom’s message intact. It now sits in my own kitchen where it feeds my soul on my best days and speaks to my heart on my worst days.
November 7, 2023
Light Up The Sky
Would Make A Great Christmas Gift!There are certain phrases you say to your kids, your spouse, your friends that become second nature. Ever since my son, Evan, started playing sports at a very young age, I’ve always told him to LIGHT UP THE SKY. Through the years, in the rare instance I had to miss a game, I would tell him he had to LIGHT UP THE SKY a little extra so I could see it from wherever I was.
I wrote this 365 Day Devotional for him at a time when I believe so many young men need a little extra guidance and support. As I wrote each devotional I had Evan, as well as all his buddies and teammates through the years, on my mind and in my heart.
365 Day DevotionalI hope you will purchase a copy for the young men in your life. It’s a true playbook for them on and off the field. From daily motivation to everyday challenges, this devotional covers it all!
Order your copy right here in my shop and help these young men continue to light up the sky!
https://littlemisswordy.com/shop/
Thank you!
Leah
September 28, 2023
The Stories We Bleed
Stories are such a big part of our lives. From those childhood fairy tales told to us before we could read, to the adventures of Tom Sawyer, Little Women, and Alice in Wonderland when we could reach for our book of choice. Stories allow us to experience what isn’t contained in our world. I have always loved to travel to destinations unknown through a good book, the kind of page turner you can’t set down, the kind that keeps you glued to it well past bedtime. There’s something special about the connections we forge with the characters who were once complete strangers to us on page one. As much as I enjoy stories of fictional characters in imaginary worlds, lately I also long for the family stories shared by my parents and grandparents.
Those stories about the moment they met each other or how they fell in love have allowed me a glimpse into how our family came to be. Tales of their joys and their struggles highlighted their passion and their perseverance. Characteristics that run through my veins because I am their bloodline.
We are not alone. We are privileged to carry in our blood and bone the wisdom of those who have gone before us. We carry their lives, even in the face of their deaths. In each of us there survive the lives of those who gave us life. In our children, and in our brainchildren, our own lives go forward. Faced with the loss of a human love, I turn to the divine love within me which can accept that loss, embrace that loss, and carry forward the beloved whom I feel to be beyond reach. God is in me, and I am in God. All that ever was, still is. We are a divine energy, a divine life. In our dying, we live again. In our living, we die again. There is no loss which is not a gain carried forward. In my moments of greatest sorrow, I am touched by the joy of having loved. In my times of greatest loss, I am still loved. Love is not lost through loss. It is found more fully. I cherish the love my loss has helped me find.
Julia Cameron, Prayers To The Great Creator
I not only cherish those who came before me, but more importantly the stories they created, the beginnings they left behind for us to continue writing chapter after chapter. As a child, I sat mesmerized as my aunts and uncles described the sacrifices they made for freedom. A freedom they longed for not merely for themselves, but for their children and their grandchildren…us. To eight-year-old me, they sounded like the bravest warriors of my children’s books, forging ahead with the armor of a thousand prayers. When they told stories of dressing up and attending dances in their suits and pretty dresses, I spun around the living room imagining I was them circling the dance floor to the beat of a silent band just as I pretended to be a princess the first time I read The Twelve Dancing Princesses. Through the years, the protagonists of my favorite reads have taken a back seat to those of my own history.
My grandparents, my dad’s parents, raised eleven children on the small island of Cuba at a time when communism wasn’t something they ever imagined could make it to their shores. They lived a life far from the one Cubans endure these days. It was one of many large family gatherings, a comfortable home, food in abundance, and hopes and dreams that still seemed possible. Each of those children added pages to the book that is our family story. My other grandparents, my mom’s parents, raised an only child on that same island. Their life looked a bit different but was just as plentiful. My mom was raised with a little ocean water coursing through her veins as she experienced the island life on the beaches of Varadero. They owned a small grocery store and never experienced hunger until the government stripped them of their own business. What a love story my parents’ story is! Right up there with Jayne Eyre’s Pride and Prejudice.
It is my story too and will be my children’s story and my grandchildren’s story to be carried on for generations to come as each of the true-life characters in our family story adds to our story. We live on in those who’ve left us. Our children will live on in us just the same. And truth be told these words will live on as well as a testament of our once upon a time, an ending we cannot see, and all the many beautiful chapters in between; but only if we learn our history and share it freely with our children whose bloodline continues our story.
![[image error]Pexels.com","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"pile of electronic waste","orientation":"0"}" data-image-title="pexels-photo-19037726" data-image-description="" data-image-caption="Photo by Leo Arslan on Pexels.com" data-medium-file="](https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/06/pexels-photo-19037726.jpeg?ssl=1){kind=link}
![[image error]Pexels.com","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"cappuccino in ceramic mug","orientation":"0"}" data-image-title="pexels-photo-3879495" data-image-description="" data-image-caption="Photo by EYAD Tariq on Pexels.com" data-medium-file="](https://i0.wp.com/littlemisswordy.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/pexels-photo-3879495.jpeg?ssl=1){kind=link}
![[image error]Pexels.com](https://littlemisswordy.files.wordpress.com/2023/09/pexels-photo-1995842.jpeg){kind=link}