One Year Today

This week will mark the one year anniversary of my mom’s death.  A day that will be forever held in my heart as sacred, the end of a lifelong relationship.   The day I said good bye to my best friend, my spiritual mentor, my co-worker, my mother.  There has not been a day since that I have not had her on my mind, wished I could see her again or longed to hear her voice.  How do you go on from a loss like that?  I’ve told you more than once that I didn’t think I could live through it, didn’t think I would survive.  But, here I am a year later, still breathing, still getting up day after day and facing each one with all the energy I can muster.  That fact alone is a testimony to God’s faithfulness.  He does not leave us even when we want to be left alone, he does not run when the times get tough.  I am living proof.

I have been told time and again that it gets easier after a year.  I am not entirely sure I understand what that means, but I do know that I don’t cry every single day anymore. And lately, I have more good days than bad ones. Not long ago when I was thinking of her, I laughed out loud at the memory, without crying.  I’ve turned her picture back up on my dresser, seeing her face doesn’t hurt so badly.  I find that I want to see it in full color more and more these days.  I walked into her bedroom the other day, at my dad’s, and just stood and soaked in the memories.  I stepped into the closet where her clothes  still hang, and cherished the feeling that she stood in that exact spot on more than one morning wondering what to wear.  I think of that now and I am moved deeply by her fight to live.  But, earth wasn’t what God had for her, it was her time to go home.

When I think of what she must be feeling in heaven and I feel sadness creep in like an old blanket. Happy for her, sad for me.  Just as I am ready to bury myself in the sadness, I feel the voice of the Holy Spirit speak to me in the depths of my heart.  “She loves it here, she doesn’t want to come back.”  Call it what you want, self-comfort, learning to cope, whatever makes you feel comfortable with the idea of a voice in your inner being; but I know it was the Lord.  He comforted me at just the time I needed it.  She is okay, better than okay, waiting for us to join her.  That helps me to face each day.  I’m feeling happiness more than sadness.  Living my life in love and joy with her in mind, instead of allowing the sorrow of it to keep me paralyzed in grief.  I know that is what she would want.

I guess what is happening in my heart is the realization of hope.  Fresh hope for better tomorrows.  I feel like my flame of hope was dimmed over the last year and even the two before as she fought for her life.  It has been a long three years.  But, something has happened this month.  I cannot explain it, and I don’t understand it, but the hope within me is being rekindled.  My flame is starting to grow.  Oh, my heart still aches, I think it always will.  But, the warmth from the flame of hope has begun to wrap itself around me once again.

Hope is such a powerful emotion. I actually took the time to look it up to see exactly how to define what I feel.  The Google definition says “a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen.”  Yes, an expectancy to see my mom again, but that explanation just didn’t seem to totally fit what I was feeling so I kept reading.  The next line really resonated with me, “a feeling of trust.” I have struggled with trust issues most of my life and the passing of my mom just seemed to reinforce my feelings of mistrust all the more.  When I read this second half of the definition, I felt like bells went off in my mind.  THAT is how I feel, like I’m starting to trust again, actually more than I did before.  Learning to trust on a deeper level that can only come after facing what feels like the deepest betrayal or let-down; trust after loss.  This kind of trust is at the core of my issues; being left behind or alone.  What I’ve learned is that I’m never really alone, never.  God has proven himself to me, he did not have to, but he chose to. And now I’m learning to trust, to really trust in the deepest places of my soul.  This place is only the beginning, I know that.  Again I am reminded of the verse he gave me at the start of the year “I am doing a new thing…”  and , oh, he is!

There is a song that comes on Christian radio, it has been popular for a long time.  After mom died I couldn’t listen to it.  Anytime I heard the opening lines, I quickly changed the station.   But, last week, for the first time since last October, I didn’t reach up to turn the channel, I just sat there, almost defiantly listening to see if I could make it through the song.  About half way through I began to smile at the thought of the truth in the words, then I began to cry at the truth in the words.  Joy mixed with sorrow, the theme of all of our lives, really.  I’ve heard it a couple of times since then, and it almost feels holy to me as I sit and listen, God comes especially near while I allow the words and music to wash over me like a fresh renewal in my spirit.  I understand the lyrics so well, because I have lived the words.  Many of you will have heard this song, as you read the lyrics below, really think about what they are saying and how they might apply to your life…

“Blessings”  by Laura Story

We pray for blessings, we pray for peace

Comfort for family, protection while we sleep

We pray for healing, for prosperity

We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering

And all the while, You hear each spoken need

Yet love is way too much to give us lesser things

‘Cause what if your blessings come through rain drops

What if Your healing comes through tears

What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You’re near

What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

We pray for wisdom, Your voice to hear

We cry in anger when we cannot feel You near

We doubt your goodness, we doubt your love

As if every promise from Your word is not enough

And all the while, You hear each desperate plea

And long that we’d have faith to believe

‘Cause what if your blessings come through rain drops

What if Your healing comes through tears

What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You’re near

What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

When friends betray us When darkness seems to win We know

that pain reminds this heart That this is not, This is not our home It’s not our home

‘Cause what if your blessings come through rain drops

What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You’re near

What if my greatest disappointments or the aching of this life

Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy

What if trials of this life The rain, the storms, the hardest nights

Are your mercies in disguise

Honestly, I have not had a thousand sleepless nights, but I’ve had my share.  I have tasted salty tears caused by tough times, I have lived through disappointments and heartaches, I have loved and lost, but these experiences were not in vain.  They were developing in me a “glory that far outweighs them all.”  Something bigger than my “light and momentary struggles.” Eternity.  The hope of a far better place.  The hope of more to come, both here and in heaven.  So, maybe that’s it, maybe that’s the thing that is making a difference as this first year comes to an end, renewed hope.

I will miss my momma, my sweet momma, until the day I leave this planet and meet her on the golden streets of heaven.   Then we will dance and sing and catch up, and, of course, go fishing.  But, until then, I am going to dance and sing and live my life with HOPE.  Because hope does not disappoint.  It believes and expects and trusts.

Hope is burning brightly, can you see it?

candle of hope

II Corinthians 4:17 “For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.”

Psalm 27:13 “Yet I am confident I will see the Lord’s goodness while here in the land of the living.”

Romans 5:5 “and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.”

Isaiah 43:19 “See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”

Advertisements

Overparenting. It’s a Thing.

My husband and I were talking recently and we decided that raising kids is hard. Just being be brutally honest, it’s tough. I have cried myself to sleep more than once over my kids. Of course, I have also been a #proudmomma more than once as well. For the sake of full disclosure, I feel like I’m winging it most of the time, just hoping for the best. I have done my “personal best,” yes, but will it be enough, is it enough?

I can remember as a much younger mom of small children and babies, reading everything I could get my hands on about parenting. Everyone has a philosophy, an opinion or a theory that they firmly believe in. Each one being more than happy to tell you what you should do to raise great kids, champions even. Who doesn’t want to raise champions?! I can remember feeling so overwhelmed by it all. Scheduling, I read, was the answer, no, wait, don’t over plan your child’s time that will stifle their creativity. Never let them drink from a bottle, they said, that will mess up their teeth and a never a pacifier, those teach  your child  to be too dependent.   Don’t   help them too much with their homework, they need to learn to do it on their own and you’ll stunt brain development if you don’t give them enough milk. They shouldn’t play video games, have them read instead. (Yeah, right, just tell my sixteen year old that.) Teach them to be motivated, how do you teach that exactly? Don’t be too hard on them, it will destroy their self-esteem. But, be sure to discipline them or they will be horrible people. Bed times are imperative, same time every night, along with a home cooked meal. Make sure they keep their “environment” clean. (You mean their room?) Sign them up for sports, as many as possible so you can see which one brings out their inner athlete. You never know, maybe they will be able to win a college scholarship by being a sports prodigy. Be sure to expose them to the arts, don’t neglect plays and foreign languages, they will be hillbillies if you do. Make sure they are on the dean’s list, honor roll, National Honor’s Society, and every club at school so their college resume will be competitive. Oh, and don’t forget student government, they definitely need to be in charge of governing the class so they will appreciate when you suggest that they run for public office one day. It doesn’t matter if they want to, it’s what’s best for them. I mean, honestly, isn’t this all for them? Just looking out for their best interest, developing their talents and abilities to praise God and help all mankind. Oh yeah, about God, don’t forget to find the perfect church for them, an amazing youth group with just the right praise and worship band, that will make them more spiritual. Do all of these things right and “presto!” your kids will be amazing people.

According to the parenting books it was good to expose your kids to several sports, so we did. We’ve lived in the north and the south, so we’ve tried a variety of sports. Soccer, swimming, volleyball, softball, football, baseball, tennis and cross country. That’s just the ones I can think of. I remember one spring in particular both boys signed up for baseball and it felt like we lived at the ball park. Home cooked meals for a balanced diet? Didn’t happen, unless you count the cheese on nachos? Or maybe the, well, there wasn’t much else. They hated baseball by the end of that season, nachos and all. But, I did my part and “exposed” them to it, now on to the next sport. Then there was football, a religion here in the south, we just weren’t cut out for it. I remember one of my sons saying, “Momma, I heard those helmets crashing together in drill and I just got sick to my stomach.” He never made it past middle school in the uniform. Another sport checked off the list. Then there was soccer, my daughter loved it. When we lived up north she played and played, but our little Alabama town didn’t offer it when we moved here several years ago, so that was out as well. Cross country won the day, and tennis. Finding a physical activity? Check. We really should be nominated for parents of the year. Well, except for the broken arm, blisters, bruises from being hit by baseballs, and dehydration when I forgot the Gatorade. Never mind about the nomination, I really am a terrible mom.

Clearly, I had no idea what I was getting into when I signed up to be a parent. And after reading all those parenting experts, I felt like I had no business being a parent.   I was definitely not qualified. I’m pretty sure I’ve made about every mistake there is to make. We have and still do eat additives and preservatives, drink coke, eat too much sugar, and watch too much TV. It’s a wonder my kids are able to make a complete sentence! They drank milk in a sippie cup and, honestly, I’m amazed their teeth didn’t fall out. They played outside and lived through bug bites when I forgot bug repellent, which was often. They never read enough, can you ever read enough really? I’m a failure at exposing them to the arts, unless you count school plays.   (Although, one of my children was a part of a community drama club that was pretty great.) We did fairly well about bed time, but I’m pretty certain that was more for me than for them. Many nights eight o’clock couldn’t come fast enough, I wonder if anyone else can relate to that?! I forgot sunscreen more that I care to admit, they ate way too many peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and loved the play land at any restaurant.  I used to drive across town to a fast food place, passing several perfectly good ones along the way, just to get to the one with a giant play land that my kids could play in for hours.   Other people do this, right?

I wonder what God was thinking when he gave me children. Didn’t he realize that I wasn’t trained or experienced? I wasn’t consistent enough, didn’t have all the answers to their questions, wasn’t equipped enough for the one million different situations and circumstances that we would live through together. I didn’t know that boys were tender hearted. Seriously, I only had sisters, I knew all about the emotional needs of a girl, but a boy? Who knew that they had broken hearts sometimes too? It’s been such a journey for me to see life from a boy’s point of view. And I wonder how each child can be so different even though they had the same parents and are raised in the same environment? Why does one have emotional breakdowns and the other seem hard hearted? How come some can sing and others wish they could? And why does the one who can’t sing, sing more than the one who can? Seriously. Wonder why God thought everything would be okay with me making decisions for them? I’ll never understand it.

Well, fast forward to today, they made it. All three of them. They are war weary, and by the parenting book standards, they are mal nourished, under “exposed” to the arts, scarred from sports injuries and probably lack an overall understanding of how government really works. They really should’ve run for student government, that would’ve taken care of everything. But, I tried. I really did. So far, the ones who have left the nest seem to be figuring out adulthood okay. I hope that not trying out for the bowling team hasn’t left them emotionally unable to handle pressure. Life is going to throw some curve balls at them, good thing we played ball for a while. And, man, people are going to have some crazy philosophies to share, guess we can get out the old under used football helmet and cover those ears and brain to protect them from being infiltrated with untruths. And tennis will be such a blessing when they are having conversations and they can imagine it is like volleying a ball back and forth. Keep the conversation going, don’t miss the ball. We’ve done our part, now it’s time for them to do theirs.

I have to say, of all the parenting we did, good and bad, the greatest thing we ever did was offer them Jesus. Honestly, there isn’t anything more valuable than that. We’ve spent countless hours praying for them, and teaching them right from wrong as well as over parenting them by trying to offer them every opportunity available. I am sorry to those of you who dated one of my children and had to go through a back ground check. I now realize that was a bit over the top. It seemed like a good idea at the time, I’m sure I read it in a parenting book somewhere. We just wanted to be good parents, and over all, we probably were okay. They were loved, fed and prayed for, what else could you possibly want?

One day maybe I’ll write a book on parenting. It won’t take long, a quick read. It will say, “I don’t have any advice, just feed them, water them, and pray a lot! Oh, and do find a good church with a few good praying friends that love your kids too.” No four hundred pages of suggestions on how to raise great kids, just a sympathetic ear and words of encouragement. Lots of encouragement and prayer. Although, I have to confess, I did learn a lot over the years, I would actually be a better parent now that I’m older and wiser. I would laugh more and stress less. Oh well, I don’t have the energy to do it all again. l’m not trying to say you should knock good advice, but keep it all in perspective. Don’t feel like you have to do everything that is in the books, trust your gut. They’ll grow up to be good people by watching your example more than anything else.

I am now on the brink of the next season of life and I am looking forward to spoiling some grandchildren. Although, not any time soon I hope! I’ll take them to soccer practice, cheer them on at baseball and if I’m lucky, be invited into their lives. I’m sure they won’t mind if I ride along on their dates, I’m a ton of fun and I’ll know lots of stories about their parents. Ha! Then I’ll be a #proudgrandma

Searching for Peace

Lately I’ve longed for peace. I find myself drawn to people and places that make me feel peaceful and relaxed.   We live in such a hectic, go as fast as you can culture there’s never enough time to sit and, well, do nothing else but sit. I am just as guilty as the next person about over scheduling my day. Not too long ago I found myself with so many things on the calendar that I just wanted to run and hide.   Not because I didn’t want to be a part of all that was going on, but because I knew it shouldn’t all be in one day. But, by God’s grace in spite of my sense, I made it through only to fall into bed and wake up to a similar schedule the next day.   Rest eludes me. I used to feel that you better be busy because, after all, you only live once and life would be better lived if there was a lot crammed into it. I question my own philosophy more and more lately. All this busyness feels tiring and like nothing is ever really enjoyed, just sort of endured in order to make it to the next thing on time.   I’m exhausted just thinking about it.

I had a conversation with a friend the other day about finding peace. I told them that I think I might move to the Dakota’s. Yes, I said the Dakota’s. North or South, I don’t care, I just think the wide open spaces would be a welcomed change from the cluttered life I’ve established for myself. There can’t be very many people living in the Dakota’s, can there? So, I imagine myself walking the open fields, exploring the landscape, working a ranch or something. Maybe I’ll even have a llama, do they have those up there? Wait, I just remembered they spit on you, maybe an alpaca. Whatever, something different. During the course of this conversation the question was asked, “Why do you need to move to an open place to feel peace, do you think peace only lives in Dakota?” well….   Of course, I don’t think that, but it sure is tempting.

I really do understand that peace comes from within, you can’t go across the country and suddenly find it. But that is how it feels so many days, like it is just out of my reach. I hear pastor’s talk of peace, people give testimonies about finding peace. I have walked through times where God’s peace felt like a warm blanket wrapped around me. So why do I want to move to South Dakota? I’ve pondered this lately, I’m not sure I have the complete answer, but I am beginning to understand the idea of rest and its relation to peace. Not the laying down and falling asleep kind of rest, but a rest of the soul. There have been windows of time that I have felt this rest, been able to maintain it even. But, after a while I find myself anxious and out of sorts and worried. It doesn’t happen overnight, it’s like a slow fading away until one day I wake up and notice, I’ve lost my peace. What happens to it, where does it go?

I have been a Christian for most of my life, I understand that peace comes from the Lord, but I also understand that without a conscious effort to hold onto peace, it will and does slip away. Not my faith, nor my relationship with the Lord, but my peace. Of course, there are those times that our peace is gone because we have done something that we need to confess and ask forgiveness for, I am not talking about this absence of peace. I’m talking about the absence of peace that comes from lack of rest. Both physical and spiritual. It’s a real thing, trust me.

I don’t believe for one minute that the Lord would be pleased with me moving to a remote area and somehow trying to find what he readily offers right where I am. Even though the Dakota’s might be tempting, I know it would only be an escape and that is not what God is all about. He requires me to walk through the circumstances, experiences, and scheduling that I call my life. He wants me to learn. Sometimes I hear folks talk about how they are learning another lesson from the Lord and they smile and seem so happy about it. Ya know, it just doesn’t always work that way for me. So many times when I look at my life, I look up at the Lord and say, “seriously? I know you can fix this for me, you could just speak and all of this hardship, both self-inflicted and not, would just be gone.” Poof! And I’m off the hook. But, that is not how He chooses to work. He says things like, “Trust me,” and “don’t be afraid,” and “hang in there, keep your eyes on Me.” And, so I put on my walking shoes and lean into Him and on we go. Lesson after lesson, pain, sorrow, joy, more lessons, life is so amazing. I’ve learned so much, and grown so much in Him. With every life lesson has come a new level of peace. It takes time and effort, and trust. Peace is cultivated and developed, a training of our mind to think differently than what we are used to. For me it takes learning Bible verses, singing praise songs, talking to him constantly.  But I’ve discovered there’s something more.

Recently, the Lord has opened my eyes to something that steals my peace. I was so comfortable in it, so used to feeling it, that I nearly missed it. What is it, you ask? Control. I like control. There, I said it. I like the feeling of things being manageable, controllable and orderly. Can you think of anything about life that fits into that definition? Me either. Giving over the controls of my life is TOUGH. I cannot even wrap my mind around this concept yet, so I sure can’t explain it, but I need to share it because that’s what God has asked me to do to, “write your story.” I’ve mentioned this idea of control before, and after the year I’ve had, I understand that control is not in the cards for me.   But, my heart stays troubled because I yearn for it. Anyone?

I’ve been praying about this a lot lately and I’m starting to recognize just how deep this need to control thing runs in me. As I recognize this and attempt to let go, I feel like I am tumbling in the current under water. I reach and flail seeking anything solid I can put my hand around and hang on to. I realize that I just need to relax and allow the current take me to where He wants me to go, after all I know that He is God of the current. But it is hard and feels uncertain.  To many of you, it probably sounds so easy and doable. But for me, not so much. I know that must sound like a lack of faith, maybe it is. But, I know the Lord will continue to do His work in me, to set me free from the IDEA that I have any control at all. I have enough faith and life experiences to know that for sure. He is faithful.

So, I guess I’ll stay where I’m at for now, peace lives here, right here in this place with me. (If you live somewhere else, I’m sure it lives where you are too.) Oh, I know I will wrestle with this, I will have busy days, I will feel peace at times and not at others. But, I will keep pressing on. Who knows, maybe I will become one of those people who gets excited about the next lesson. To be super happy when something hard comes along so I can grow and be stretched, it could happen. I mean, maybe. Anything is possible. But, I do know that I will be obedient to the best of my ability because I believe God has good things for me. And, who knows, maybe one day I will get an alpaca. ha! Each time I look at it I’ll be reminded that peace is mine, it just takes a little work.

Isaiah 26:3 “You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on you!”

Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

Matthew 11:28  “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

Finding My Calling

I received such a wonderful affirmation from God today about my writing.   I started this so uncertain of whether or not I was supposed to really be doing it. I just needed an outlet for all of the emotions that I was experiencing. I wanted a place to express the lessons I was learning, a place to sort through the hurt that has my held my heart captive and writing seemed the logical choice. I have written in journals and notebooks since I was young, I thought everybody did. I have been shocked at how people have responded to my writing. I guess I thought that anyone and everyone could write stories and such. I never thought of it as a gift, just an outlet. But, after receiving more encouragement than I ever dreamed, I am finding the courage to continue. My goal is to search deep inside of me and to push myself beyond my comfort zone and see what’s there. Is this really a talent or do I just have a way with written words, or is it that same thing?

When I was a little girl, I had a small notebook that I used to write stories. Then, as a teenager, I haphazardly kept a diary. Finally, as an adult I have written in too many spiral notebooks to count. It has been my life saver through tough times as a young mom to a mom of teenagers and college aged adults. I think the catalyst for me was the loss of my mom. I had to find a way to get through the emotions I was drowning in. I started by writing short posts on Facebook, those posts led to longer more meaningful posts and finally to the blog. I never thought I would have enough words to fill a sheet of single typed paper, but guess what? I do. More than that, even. I still can’t believe it. I can’t believe that anyone would want to read it, it is just my thoughts, nothing profound and certainly nothing new.   But, so many of you have told me that you enjoy it, that it has spoken to you and that you can relate to it. What a blessing. That is the most important thing to me, besides glorifying God, is to be relatable.   I want my writing to feel like we are sitting down having a cup of coffee together, just discussing the different happenings in our lives. I never want anyone to feel that I think I am somehow “more spiritual” or that I know more than anyone else. I just want to share the journey, to talk about it and learn from it. That is my passion. To learn together, to laugh together and to feel connected to one another along this path of life. We are all in it together, we may as well make the best of it and develop meaningful relationships along the way. I have no idea where this is all headed, I say that all the time. But, after today, I cannot deny that the Lord is definitely leading. Up until today, I knew God was in it, the driving force behind it, but I don’t know if I would’ve told you it was my calling. Let me explain what happened to me today. It may not mean much as you read the words on this page, but living it sure resonated in my needy heart.

Today (The day I am writing this.) is the eleventh month anniversary of my mom’s passing. It has been a loonnggg eleven months. Emotionally and physically draining to say the least. I know some of you have lost someone close to you so you know exactly what I mean.   I wrote her a letter that I shared with you today, and my heart was so broken and tender. As I was getting ready for church, I turned on Pandora and chose the Christian radio channel. I have learned that when I am doing something kind of mindless, like my makeup, I need to have music playing to keep my mind busy. It is so easy to allow my mind to wander if I don’t intentionally fill it, and mind wandering never goes well for me. I always end up thinking the worst, it seems, so to avoid that scenario playing out, I listen to music. This morning was no exception. So many encouraging songs, lyrics and words filtering through my mind, keeping my heart lifted. As I was sitting there listening, the song “Write Your Story” by Francesca Battistelli came on. After the first verse and chorus, I was totally engaged in the song. But, it wasn’t until the chorus was playing for a second time that I felt the familiar nudge of the Holy Spirit that this was more than just a song, it was a personal message to me.  I honestly felt the Lord say to me personally to in the depths of my heart “write your story.” To write. The stories of my life. What I’ve learned, what I did wrong and what I did right. All of it, well, maybe not ALL but you get the idea. It was so encouraging, more encouraging than any word from any other person.   I was thrilled in my spirit. I went to church, feeling more of a purpose in all of this. Like maybe it really was more than just a hobby.

Later, during the morning worship service we were instructed to open our Bibles and read Revelation 1:19. “Write, therefore, what you have seen, what is now and what will take place later.” The word WRITE stuck out to me, and again, I felt the Lord affirm in me that I was to write. I literally had chill bumps this time. I knew that God wanted me to continue doing exactly what I was doing. Oh, I KNOW there is PLENTY of room for improvement, and I pray that I will be able to learn and be better. But, this is the start, it is the “something new” that He promised me at the beginning of this very painful year. I remember telling so many that He gave me that verse and I was holding onto it with both hands. Maybe I even told you. “For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.” Isaiah 43:19 has become a theme for me as of late. This is definitely a new thing. Not me writing things down, but that it could somehow be a blessing to anyone else. That God would use my inadequate words for HIS glory leaves me humbled and amazed.

I cannot say thank you enough to those of you who have believed in me, encouraged me and faithfully read each post. You have become my support group, whether you realize it or not. Now, I am asking you to pray for me. Pray that God will always be glorified, and that he will refine this gift in me. He is so faithful, pray that I will be as well. And, please let me know your feelings on the different things I talk about. It spurs me on when you comment, I feel that you can relate and that is the point of it all. And, who knows? You may just be in one of my stories, but don’t worry, I won’t use your real name. I always protect the identity of the innocent. Ha! Thank you so much for reading. I hope we get a chance to have a cup of coffee together sometime, and just talk about life and faith and God’s goodness. Next time you go to the coffee shop, look for me, I may just be there working on my blog and I’ll have a pumpkin spice latte, please.

A few of the words to “Write Your Story”

“I want my history

To be Your legacy

Go ahead and show this world

What You’ve done in me

And when the music fades

I want my life to say

I let You write Your story…

I’m an empty page

I’m an open book

Write Your story on my heart”