Memories of Me


I walked into my mother’s old home and, amid the smell of must and dust, I boarded a time machine that would transport me back decades in a matter of moments. childhood-memories

First stop, my childhood bedroom. I reached deep into the closet and right back into history. My memory has always been sketchy at best, but laying my hands on fragments of my past brought a flood of memories of a happy and hopeful little girl that loved to make people laugh and smile. One that loved to play music, to draw and, yes, write.  It was nice to see her again.  

Not that I’ve changed that much in the past five decades. Sure, I’m older and–I hope–wiser, but I still have the same overall traits and passions. It is definitely the way God wired me and it was nice to be reminded that nothing, not even the tragedies and hardships that my family endured, could change that.

Yes, the man who took my father’s life when I was just 8 years old is responsible for turning what should have been colorful, beautiful childhood memories into a haze of black and gray; but today God saw to it that I got reintroduced to the good memories created by that happy-go-lucky, tree-climbing, music loving, creative little girl once again. Thank You, God, for giving me this gift. I will never know what might have been had my father been allowed to stay on this earth with us, but I do know that You have always and continue to have my best interest at heart and this little girl of Yours is very thankful.

Thank You for the bright memories and Your promise to always help me live my life in full, living color. I shall never stop pursuing You, Lord, and the purpose for which You created me. That’s my gift to you. I hope you like it.

Amen and Ehmen.

Ass But Not Least


Though they are often the “butt” of many a joke, I have always had a special affection for donkeys. And, Donkey and Cross imageevery year around Easter, that affection grows. Have you ever wondered why Jesus rode a donkey into Jerusalem oh so many years ago on what we now call Palm Sunday? Why not a strong, valiant horse? A horse worthy to roam the king’s pastures?

This week, in reflecting on that very question, I thought I’d ask God himself. And so, during my God time earlier this week, that is exactly what I did. As I sat quietly with nothing but a Bible, a blank page and a deep affection for The Father, these are the thoughts that came to rest deep in my spirit.

“Child, do you remember the verses in My Word in which I told you that the first will be last and the last shall be first; those that remind you to be a humble servant? My friend, the donkey, is a fitting image of what I expect from my children. Humble, hard-working, peaceful. I don’t need pomp and circumstance from you. I just need a willing, servant’s heart.

I asked for a donkey to ride me into Jerusalem for many reasons, one being to remind all of my childrenpalm sunday that it matters not how the world sees you, but instead how I see you. This donkey, considered one of the least among his kind, was fit for a King. With a servant’s heart and attitude, he escorted me into Jerusalem and into my destiny and this is exactly what I ask of you, dear child—a servant’s heart and attitude that I can use to take me to the people of the world and into my ultimate and eternal destiny. I want ALL of my children with me in eternity. Even one lost grieves my spirit so. Think of those parents who have lost one of their children to drugs, alcohol or depression. Think of the parent whose child has run away, who they’ve lost all contact with. Oh how their heart grieves! Now, multiply that by infinity and that is how I feel about my lost children. My heart is not complete without them. My kingdom is not whole. They are MY children. All of them. No matter what they have done. No matter what they haven’t done. They are MY children and I love them. And, I need you, to help me bring them home. I need you to be like that humble, willing donkey that will take me to my children; to my destiny as Father of All. Go read the story of the Prodigal Son. I will open your eyes to new things, my child. And, go through this day aware of my presence. I’ll be right beside you all the way. It’s going to be a good day, child. A very good day.”

Thank you, God, for this. Thank you for the donkey and thank you for now giving me a reason to smile when someone calls me one.  Last but not least, thank you for being such a The Legend of the Donkey's Crosscreative Creator. Whether the legend of the cross on my favorite furry friends’ back is true or not, it is quite a beautiful touch. 🙂 Amen and Ehmen!

 

 

A Bittersweet Love Story


amen and ehmen!

Dear God, as I continue to reflect on this Easter season, I ask that you help the words flow dear godfrom the deepest recesses of my soul, the inner places where You dwell in all Your holiness and righteousness. Thank you for sending Your son and for Him taking on human suffering and death just so that we could live with You forever. I am overwhelmed by Your grace and love for me and, though I am eternally sorry for my sins and shortcomings, I am eternally grateful for Your grace and forgiveness and, most especially, your gift of salvation, wrapped in the arms of Jesus and presented to us freely. All we have to do is believe and accept, both of which I do, wholeheartedly. Thank you, Jesus, for what You endured; for Your obedience to the Father, no matter what; and for making a way for me. May I…

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His Call, My Heartbeat


The blank page beckons.blank computer screen

Visual silence.

A blank slate interrupted only by the blink of the cursor.

Blink. Blink. Blink. It’s slow and rhythmic and, for me, thought-provoking.  It’s like the heartbeat of a new creation just waiting to be born.  

No wonder I have such an affinity for the blank page, for it is the platform on which thoughts and words come alive and, if I am lucky, become helpful and provide a positive impact to those who read them. Better yet, they become a tool for the Lord, our God.

Words are my calling. I’ve always had a predisposition for them, but, several years ago, it became evident that writing is a big part of the reason I was put on this earth. Still—though the calling is undeniable and has become almost as important to me as breathing—I still wrestle with it at times as, more often than not, I find myself fighting to find the time and energy to commit to it.

Time or no time, however, it is absolutely impossible to describe the feeling I get when I know that there is something I need to write. It bubbles up from the inside and I am miserable until I finally put it onto paper. And the very, very best part is when someone reaches out to me out of the blue to tell me how something I wrote touched them or inspired and helped them in some way.

This week—a week when I was particularly needing encouragement to find a way to continue, despite my crazy work schedule and other demands of life—three people reached out to me to tell me how God had used something I wrote to speak to them and encourage them in a profound way. What I want them to know is that God also used them to reassure me that I cannot give up on this mantle He himself has placed upon me.

Somehow, some way, I will continue to answer His call. His call, my heartbeat; the blank page, my canvas. Thank you, Jesus, for giving me encouragement through Your Word and through other people. Keep reminding me that what I view as waiting is all part of the process. Write on…

Amen and Ehmen.