Momma, How Did Daddy Cody Go To Heaven?

“Momma, can I ask you a question?” I heard my five-year-old say. I closed my eyes and patiently replied, “yes.” This had to have been the 27th question in the last ten minutes.

“Okay, momma, can you turn the music off and come sit with me.” Her tone changed. I put my makeup brush down, paused my worship playlist on my phone and turned my attention to my daughter who sat on the bathroom floor drawing. (disclaimer—she likes to be right next to me in the mornings getting ready for school and work, so I let her draw or color on the bathroom floor while I get ready.) Her eyes were curious. She pointed to the small area in front of her, silently asking me to sit with her again. I sat.

“Momma, how did my Daddy Cody go to heaven?”

Silence.

I had known this was coming. I had been preparing myself for this conversation for about two years. Heaven is not a new topic for us. She knows Heaven is our forever home. She’s asked many questions about her Daddy Cody who went to Heaven when she was 8-months old. She understands he’s not here and he is in Heaven with Jesus. But she hadn’t put together that there has to be a physical aspect of dying to get to Heaven.

I hesitated. She’s five. I don’t want to tell her too much. But I want to tell her truth. I asked what exactly she meant? “What happened for him to go to Heaven?” she repeated. “Jesus just came down and got him, and poof, he’s gone?” she questioned.

I almost giggled at her detailed analysis. “Didn’t something happen to him for him not to be here?” she asked again.

“Yes,” I replied. “Do you think you’re ready for this conversation?” She immediately nodded her head, yes.

As tears formed in my eyes, I grabbed her hand and asked the Holy Spirit for help before beginning the toughest conversation of her five years.

“Daddy Cody went fishing one night on the lake we lived on. We had a small boat he would use when he went fishing. He texted me to let me know he was almost done and going to be headed in soon. Momma fell asleep with you and woke up hours later and he wasn’t in bed. So, I got up and went through the house. No sign of him. I started calling and texting him. No response. I went out to the pier with a flashlight, and I couldn’t see or hear anything. Momma didn’t really know what to do so I decided to wait until morning, so I could see better. I thought he went to a friends house around the lake and maybe his phone ran out of battery.” I paused. “What happened next, mommy?” she asked.  

I took a deep breath and began again, “I waited until morning, and when I still couldn’t see anything, I called a neighbor and they got on boats and went across the lake. When they returned with no news, I called 911 for help. They sent someone called a Game Warden with a big boat and equipment that can see under water to scan the lake. The boat looked all day, but they couldn’t find him.”

“Where did he go, what happened to him?” she asked. “We didn’t know exactly what happened,” I responded. “The Game Warden looked for 5 days before they found daddy in the water.”

“Five days, that’s a long time!” she exclaimed. “Yes, baby it is.”

“But what happened to him for him to go to Heaven?” she asked.

I replied, “Daddy somehow tipped the boat and went under the cold water and couldn’t get out.”

She leaned over and brushed the tears off my face. “But daddy trusted God, so he went to Heaven?” she stated.

“Yes, baby, daddy trusted God, so he is in Heaven now.”

Her curiosity continued as she asked, “But what happens when someone has no more days left on earth and they didn’t trust God?”

With this question I was able to explain that as real as Heaven is-so is a place called hell, and how our enemy, the devil schemes to turn people away from Jesus.

“Mommy, I’m going to trust God all of my life so I can go to Heaven one day too! And Daddy Cody will be there to hug me!” she said.

It’s conversations like these that plunge the reality of life and death, and heaven and hell to the forefront of my mind. How am I living my life? Am I using every aspect of my life to glorify my Creator? On the really hard days I daydream of Heaven. I wonder about the glorious colors I’ve never seen before, the beautiful worship I’ve never heard before. I daydream about being face to face with Jesus. The absolute peace and all-consuming joy it would be. And then I remember Cody is there. I remember his beautiful worship on earth- I can’t wait to see him worship in Heaven. The sadness of the loss, the trauma of the loss dissipates a little more with each thought and wonder of Heaven.

This is not my eternal home.

Heaven is.

Jesus tells us in John 14, “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. And you know the way to where I am going.” Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you had known me, you would have known my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.” (1-7)

Do you ever think about Heaven? I mean really think about Heaven? Think of the most breathtaking landscape you’ve seen on earth and multiply that by infinity and I guarantee it doesn’t come close to the beauty in Heaven. Imagine your most healthy, productive, joy filled and peaceful day and multiply that by infinity and I wonder if that compares to our heavenly bodies and minds. I can’t fathom. But it excites me knowing there is so much more than the brokenness of this current life.

Peter states in 1 Peter 1:3-9, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.”

Nothing can tarnish or extinguish the secure inheritance we have reserved in Heaven with Christ as our Lord and when we recognize Him as the One who took on death, to give us eternal life. Our faith is purified through our earthly trials. I pray your faith finds no falter through your present sufferings. I pray your mind stays eternally focused, knowing this life is a blink of an eye compared to eternity.

Paul writes in Colossians 3:1-3, “If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.”

I’ve learned so much through loss. The Lord has revealed more of Himself to me during my darkest moments. When tough conversations or grief moments arise I’ll keeping choosing to set my mind on Heaven and the glory that waits. I choose to see life over death.

Happy 5 years in the Heavens, Cody Lusk. I’m thankful for you, and the life we created. You will forever be in my heart. 1.14.2017

I Trust my God, I Trust my God, I Trust my God.

When Your Scars Bleed

If grief were a person…. It’d be you.

Grief would be handsome.

Grief would be strong.

Grief would be full of life.

Grief would be you.

Some days when your memory is just too strong I jump in my red SUV and drive. Then I drive some more. Sometimes I blast Worship music and sing to the Heavens that is now your home. But sometimes I listen to our songs. Sometimes I listen to bad rap music and I force myself to let the anger out. Sometimes I just drive and cry. Today was one of those days. I could feel you in the passenger seat. I could feel your presence. Your overwhelming, undeniable, all-consuming presence. I wanted so badly to reach out and touch your face. To feel your strong hands and arms around me. But then I force myself to shake away the thoughts that will inevitably send me into a dark spiral of emotions.

It’s been 3.5 years. Yet some days it feels like yesterday. Every time I feel strong and steady in my new life I’m knocked down with triggers of you, us, our life, the good and bad. It is literally all consuming. I still… after 3.5 years wake up looking for you… reaching for you. Sometimes I wear your deodorant to bed just to smell you near. That is so weird, I know, I know. But loss and grief make you do weird things.

I’ve grown a lot these last 3 years. I wonder if you’d even recognize the woman I am. Almost every big decision I’ve made since you’ve been gone, I see your face. I wonder if you’d be proud. I wonder so many things. I wonder when I will be able to let you go. I wonder when your memory will fade so much so that I can truly allow someone else in. I wonder. I wonder so many things.

I feel selfish. I see other’s lives move on. Marriages, babies, family vacations, and in some ways I feel so stuck in the past. I know where my mind goes isn’t healthy at times. But this journey is just that- a journey. Some days I get it right and I’m strong and can inspire others to be strong during life’s tragedies. But then there are the days I’m crumbling inside. The days I take out my grief box and I delve in. “Missing you comes in waves, and tonight I’m drowning”. Some days I have to allow myself to drown in you.

My scars are bleeding. My heart is throbbing with pain and love. My mind is jumbled with confusion and frustration, anger, but acceptance. Grief is literally a million emotions and thoughts mangled together. It changes you. Sometimes I’m thankful for the change. Other times I hate who I’ve become because I’ve forced myself to be cold and uncaring.

Tonight I’m drowning. Tonight my scars are bleeding.

I know I’ll see you again. But I want “again” to be right now. I want to hit your chest with my small fists. I want to run into your strong arms. I want to scream into your ears. I just simply want you. I want to go back in time and change so many things. All we needed was a little more time to get things right. I could see us flourishing. But we ended too soon and I will never understand that part. But I have to force myself to choose every day to accept it.

I know God has an amazing plan for my life. A plan that somehow had to include all of this. It had to include all of the scars I carry.

I remember July 4, 2012 like it was yesterday. The day I met you. That morning I woke up from a dream crying. I dreamt I was a mother. I dreamt of a little blonde haired, blue eyed girl, holding me and whispering in my ear that she loved me. That was the day a seed was planted and I had an overwhelming desire to be a mother. Looking back on that dream, it was our baby girl holding me and whispering “I Love You”. God gave me that dream, I have no doubt.

Now she’s 4 years old, vivacious, full of life and creativity. She’s a part of you, but without you.

She doesn’t remember anything about you.

It’s like a whole other life I lived. A life that only I remember. It’s so surreal. Tonight I’m drowning in you. Drowning in your songs, drowning in your words, drowning in your pictures, drowning in you.

I know tomorrow will be better. It always is. But tonight I’ll let my scars bleed.

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9. This scripture gives me so much peace. God is with me on my good days and my bad days. He is with me on the days I get it right and the days I fall down and allow myself to feel the pain of your absence. He is my rock, my strength, my salvation.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll get it right.

I Trust my God, I Trust my God, I Trust my God.

Dear Cody…

 

CML

Dear Cody,

I wanted to wish you Happy 3 years in the Heavens. I often daydream about what you could possibly be doing. Are you sitting at the throne of God? Are you in awe of the majesty and power that surround you? Are you dancing in worship, letting your radiant spirit shine? Or maybe, just maybe you’re on a pier on a beautiful heavenly lake with a fishing pole in your hand.

I wonder if you’ve met my Uncle Billy who joined you in Heaven almost 2 years to the day you went? Do you remember me telling you about him? He was my uncle who baptized me when I was a young girl. He was the one I’d wake up in the middle of the night and pray for throughout the years. You never got to meet him on this side of glory, but maybe you are friends now?

I wonder if you ever think of me or our life? I wonder what your capacity for earthly memories are? I wonder if you remember your life here at all? I wonder if you’d be proud of me?

Baby Abby is growing so beautifully. She has your laugh. Your deep belly giggle, and grin full of comic mischief. She has asked so many questions about you. “My daddy who held me when I was a baby?”, she’ll say. She asks to see pictures of you often. I’ll swipe through years of electronic photos of our life. She sees the ones with me in a white dress and she’ll gasp in excitement, “Mommie, you look like a Princess! Did you and my daddy get married!?”

Her little mind is so sharp and full of curiosity. At first the questions evoked an explosion of sad emotion throughout my soul… but now I can smile and enjoy telling her about you when she asks. She knows you loved her. She knows you didn’t choose to leave her. She knows you’re with Jesus. She knows Jesus lives in her heart, so she immediately says you live there too.

Your memory is so sacred to us. No matter where life takes us, we Love you.

I can close my eyes and remember my head on your chest. I can still hear your heart beating with life. I can see the light in your deep blue eyes. I can see the Love you had for Jesus and people shining out of you. I feel your arms around me. It used to be so hard to allow myself to remember you, to truly remember you. But grief is so beautiful when we allow God to lead us into healing. I grieve still, but I am so thankful for the memories. I’m thankful for our life, even though it was only for a few short years. I am thankful for where the Lord has brought Abby and I. He has taken care of us every step of the way. He has led an amazing man into our life. It’s weird to say this, but I know you would like him. He is a man after God’s heart. He prays for Abby and I daily. He has been an answer to so many of my prayers.

I want to thank you for showing me what Love is. I think back to that young innocent 23-year old girl who laid eyes on you and knew you were going to be in my life. I had no clue of the heartache and devastation ahead. But I do know the truth of Romans 8:28 “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” I have learned to be intentional in healing and grieving. I cry out to the Lord in my grieving. He does not forsake us. He does not leave any stone unturned.

My favorite “winks” from Heaven as I like to call them, are when someone who was touched by your life and testimony comes to me and shares the difference you made in their life. One gentleman in-particular comes to mind. He stopped me at church one day and with tears in his eyes told me he learned what true freedom in worship to the Lord was because of you. He could raise his hands to our Heavenly Father without embarrassment because of how you couldn’t contain your worship. You helped so many men struggling with addiction. You may have fallen in your life, but you never gave up. You always mustered strength and faith and kept walking. That is admirable. You taught me about God’s Grace. I didn’t have a revelation of that kind of Love prior to you. I will forever be thankful for the season of “us”.

I remember 3 years ago today talking with you on our front porch. Abby’s baby body was spread across my lap as she was fighting sleep. I was tired. You looked in my eyes and were concerned. I remember telling you, “I feel like I’m grieving and I have no idea why.” All I wanted to do was cry and sleep, which was abnormal. You sweetly told me to go rest. We had plans that day and I chose to sleep instead of spend time with you. I woke up a few hours later and felt so burdened spiritually. My heart was already aching before the tragedy happened. I often think about this. How could I have known devastation was looming? The Lord doesn’t give us a spirit of fear, but I believe when our spirits are in tune with Christ, we can feel things not of this world.

I want you to know I forgive you. I’ve learned harboring unforgiveness, especially for someone who is no longer on this earth, is dreadful. The Lord showed me my anger and unforgiveness was debilitating areas in my life.

I forgive myself. This one was hard. I forgive myself for being angry when you didn’t come home that night. I had no idea where you were, and I was mad at you. You texted me and told me you were checking the fishing lines one more time and then headed inside. But you never came back. Hours pass and I go out to the pier, I yelled and yelled for you but you never answered. Fog blanketed the dark lake. The silence was deafening.  I stopped searching and I was mad at you. You weren’t here, and I was mad at you. I was mad for so many things I never said to you. I was mad at myself more than anything for not being emotionally present your last day on this earth. But the Lord has walked me through healing and forgiving.

Grief.

One small word that is loaded with emotion and meaning. A word that feels tangible at times. A word that has been my greatest enemy these past 3 years. A word that has become my greatest friend when I need to hide from the world and allow myself to “feel” the trauma and loss.

Though we may never fully grasp death or heaven on this side of glory we have to learn to accept it. I vowed to allow the hurt to change me in a way that glorifies God.

You’re the lucky one… Basking in glory… praising with the Angels…Giving everyone in Heaven your famous “Cody Hugs”… Living your best life…

P.S.

I will see you again one day.

Jess

 

 

Dead Ends.

Dead-End-Blog-Picture

Google Image.

Wrong Turns.

Dry Streams.

Dead Ends.

Have you ever been in a season of life when each direction you’re turning, you have a “Wrong Way” sign flashing intensely back at you?

Your heart is set on a dream. Your emotions are so exaggerated and taking over your intelligence. You fly past every warning sign that this situation, this career path, this relationship, this dream you’re holding onto is not God’s perfect plan for your life.

Dead ends… Ladies, what do we do when the ends of our hair become dried up and dead? WE CUT THEM OFF. We all know that by biting the bullet and cutting off inches of dead hair will in fact make it grow longer at a faster rate. I’m the world’s worst about cutting my hair. If you know me, you know my hair is insanely long. When I go in for a trim, I cringe at every inch being snipped away. But I know it’s for the best. It is the same with dead ends in our lives.

No matter how much we strive to push a square peg into a round hole, it is not going to work. There have been seasons in my life that I forced myself onto a particular career path only to find my soul was miserable because it was not God’s plan for my life. I’m sure we have experienced this in relationships. We hold onto a vision we had in the beginning or a feeling of safety. We hold on with every fiber of our beings only to find that we’re at a dead end. A dead end filled with dried streams that used to overflow with life-giving water in this area of your life. You wake up one day to no more cross roads. No more options but to turn fully around and go the opposite direction.

Change hurts.

Change is scary.

Change is growth.

Change is good.

For years I have feared change. God has used nearly every faucet of my life to face the fear of change. I faced the change of finding a new dream after the loss of my husband. Our entire life built was that of a team. Business partners, remodeling a home, raising a child together. All of it shattered in one moment.

Change hurts.

But feared change produces so much trust in our God when we choose to stop running from it and face it with a faith that comes from Christ within us.

I have envisioned myself kneeling at a stream. I am standing on stepping stones, kneeling at the slight running water at my feet. My fingers are touching the top of the streaming water. It’s moving slowly, but it’s moving. I look further down the stream, to the right and to the left. The streams are dry. I know where I’m standing won’t be life giving much longer. I know I’m being called to move forward. But the stream is so beautiful. The stream was healing. The stream gave me water when I was dying of thirst. The stream exudes peace and comfort. But I’m not to stay. I don’t know what is after the stream. But I know I have to be obedient and move forward. I’m to trust in something bigger than myself.

Change is scary.

Freedom begins with obedience.

This reminds me of Peter in Acts 12. King Herod arrested some who belonged to the church and had every intention of persecuting them. He took Peter captive, imprisoning him. He was handed over to four squads of four soldiers each. Herod had planned to bring Peter out for a public trial after Passover. Here Peter was imprisoned, but God’s people were diligently praying for him to be set free. Scripture tells us the night before Herod was to bring Peter to trial, Peter fell asleep between two soldiers. (Because I mean who wouldn’t be sleeping like a baby with this much stress in their life… It’s not like he wasn’t about to possibly be persecuted for his faith or anything)

I see you Peter.

I see your unwavering TRUST in your God.

He was bound with two chains and wedged between two soldiers. He was in bondage, physically but not spiritually.

Suddenly an angel of the Lord appeared and struck Peter’s side. “Quick, get up!” the angel said. “…And the chains fell off Peter’s wrist.” Acts 12:7

And…. THE CHAINS FELL OFF PETER’S WRISTS.

Obedience.

I’ll say it again- Freedom begins with obedience.

Peter had to get up before the chains fell off him.

YOU have to get up before your chains will fall off you.

What is the Lord calling you to do that you haven’t yet?

The Lord has been revealing to me since August that I have not surrendered certain areas of my life to Him. I was scared of what His plan may look like, so I was holding onto my own.

I recently shared with a friend that the Lord gives me a word for each year. At the beginning of this year He gave me the word Love. But I know it was not in the romantic sense. It goes deeper than that.

I can feel my Savior whispering to me ever so sweetly—“I am Love. I am the Love you are looking for. I’ve been here with you the whole time. Don’t you see me? Don’t you feel me caressing your broken heart? I’ve never ever left you. Please come fall into my arms.” That is Love. When I think of the place’s I’ve allowed my mind to go, from deep sadness, to exploding anger, to disgusting selfishness, to icky worldliness, but yet, here is my Jesus pursuing me, calling to me in the middle of my darkness. This Love trumps any romantic shallow term of love. This Love I’m referring to is an out of this world, undefined, knocks you off your feet and challenges you to run to the cross kind of Love. It brings you to your knees in repentance and leaves your dirty ashes shining like beautiful sunflowers. The kind of Love that turns unimaginable earthly pain into a purpose for His glory. There is nothing that compares to it.

I’m learning that His purpose for our obedience is rooted in His Love for us. This revelation has equipped me to embrace change on another level.

Change is growth.

What happened to peter when he obeyed? Not only did the chains fall off him but he stepped out of the prison walls. He was at a dead end, stuck between two soldiers who were commanded to keep him a prisoner for Herod’s entertainment. How many of us get comfortable in our own prisons? (Insert hand raise emoji) We can become quite comfortable in our own dysfunction. But the change that Peter experienced in his situation due to his obedience of “getting up” was quite literally instantaneous. Instantly the chains fell off, he walked out of prison and was a free man.

The evolution of change can be so many things… it can hurt, it can be scary, it can grow you… but oh change can be so good in the bounds of God’s will over your life.

What if you embraced the change the Lord has set before you? What if you surrendered whatever it is that is holding you back? What if you were whole-heartedly obedient to the commands and callings Christ has set specifically on your life?

You never know… A simple act of obedience can change the course of your life and blessings and freedom could begin to flow instantly. Your seemingly never ending ‘dead end’ could turn into a boundless open road full of Life, Love, and Growth.

Change is good.

I Trust my God. I Trust my God. I Trust my God.

“I Sat with My Anger Long Enough, Until She Told Me Her Real Name Was Grief”

anger blog

I came across the above words a few weeks ago and it hit me. Hard.
As many know, there are five common stages of grief.

-Denial
-Anger
-Bargaining
-Depression
-Acceptance

These are just the common stages. They don’t necessarily hit in this order and the stages can be repeated.
I have been extremely intentional in my healing process. I have a few select people I allow in my grief moments and days. This healing journey is beautiful and exhausting. I’m learning that it may never be over. And that’s okay. The WORST thing you can tell a grieving soul is “get over it”, “move on”. Move on to what? Pretend your life hasn’t tasted tragedy? Pretend your emotional war wounds don’t exist and burst with pain every once in a while? Pretend your Love for the lost one doesn’t still exist? No. Moving forward is the correct notion. Move forward with the aching pain. Move forward with the Love you still carry. Move forward with your new scars and appreciation for Life and Love. Move forward in the most-healthy way you know how to do.

After years of pursuing healing, the one stage of grief I seem to get stuck in is, Anger. I’ve heard so many times throughout the last two years, “you’ve handled yourself with such grace”, “The Lord is so proud of you”, “Cody is so proud of you”. But no one sees my heart. No one knows the thoughts in my mind. No one can see my midnight hours—struggling on the battle-field of my own mind while getting lost in the darkness of suffocating anger.

“I sat with my anger long enough, until she told me her real name was grief.”

These words stroked a nerve.

I’ve known Anger is a main stage in grief. I’ve followed the stages. I completed the stages thoroughly, or at least in my mind I did. But I keep revisiting Anger. I have experienced intense Anger at Cody since he’s passed. Anger at him for fishing that night. Anger at him for traveling so much for work when we only had a few short years together. Anger at him for not being here with me. Anger at him for not being here to watch Abby grow into a beautiful little girl. Anger at him for unresolved things in our marriage. Anger at him for unfulfilled promises.

But if I’m honest the one I’m most angry with is, myself. I am stricken with gut-wrenching guilt about that day that changed everything. I wasn’t soft. I wasn’t nice. I wasn’t a loving wife. I was angry that day and I never even told him why. I was exhausted and felt the weight of grief before the tragedy even happened. I’m angry at myself for being mad at him when he didn’t come home that night. I’m angry for not looking harder. I’m angry at myself for not calling 911 sooner. I’m angry at myself for not having the voice I needed in certain seasons of our marriage.

I have cried in Anger toward God. I have yelled and screamed toward heaven as my fists hit the floor. I have strained my voice from screaming. The screams end in a pool of hot tears.

God knows each tear.

Psalm 56:8 tells us, “You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.”

My tears are not lost. Your tears are not lost.

I can’t wrap my mind around this fact. The Lord has a bottle of all the tears I’ve ever cried? He knows each tear that has ever fallen down my face? And your face? What Love and intimacy from our, Savior?

This vicious, yet breathtakingly beautiful grief journey reminds me of a racecar on a track. Going around and around. Fast. Breaking for an oil change and tire change. Then off again at full speed. People cheering on the outside, waving their hands in approval. But they can’t see inside of the car. They can’t see the sweat dripping off the racer’s brow. They can’t feel his heart beating with fear and excitement. They don’t see what’s happening behind the wheel. They only see the outside. I only see what you choose to show on the outside. You only see what I choose to show on the outside. We won’t always see one another’s brokenness. We won’t always see one another’s fears and sadness. People have told me that I seemed to not have even skipped a beat in life after my husband passed away. That is far from the truth. The joy of the Lord is real. The peace of the Lord is real. Without those two gifts I would have gladly chose a life marinating in self-pity, darkness, and depression. Because that’s the easy thing to do. Choosing anger is the easy thing to do.

I have broken my anger down. I have asked for a revelation of the root of my anger… anger that extends past this particular trauma. The root has been fear or sadness. My fears and sadness manifest into anger. Of course that makes sense to me. I don’t want to feel vulnerable in facing fears and admitting an ongoing season of sadness, so I become angry. Anger itself is not bad. Anger is a God-given emotion that when expressed in a healthy manner during a justified season is okay. Like Ecclesiastes teaches us, “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing.” Ecclesiastes 3:1-14.

Undealt with anger is what’s dangerous. I have been treading on this danger line. The unresolved anger in previous tragedies and my marriage bleeds into my current season and relationships. I have felt my emotions snap at the littlest discomfort and unmet expectations. Maybe you can relate? If so, we need to keep in mind it’s not fair for the people in our lives who care about us. It’s up to us to be intentional in our own healing and strive to seek the Lord through each stage of grief and emotions. We may not be able to control what happens around us, or even to us. We can’t control how other people view us or treat us. What we can control is our reactions. There is freedom in thinking before we act and speak. There is freedom when we bring our hurts and disappointments to the throne of God rather than at the feet of a friend who may innocently encourage or justify the hurt, anger or gossip.

Once again, The Lord continues to use these unwanted emotions in this desperate season from a turned up-side down life and somehow manifests it for His Glory. I’m thankful for this season of anger and raw moments of questioning the Lords plan over my life. It has brought me closer in my spiritual walk. It has again, re-directed my anger and negative perspective to aim higher and remember that no matter what happens He’s got my daughter and I covered with His feathers and tucked under His wings. (Psalm 91:4)

Through the moments of anger and fleshly confusion I will mentally reside on the words of Isaiah 26:3, “You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.”

I Trust my God, I Trust my God, I Trust my God.

 

 

I Don’t Want To Forget

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Photo by Jennifer Willard Photography

“I can’t wait to be on the other side of this.”

These were words that escaped my lips 2 years ago.

When the grief, the pain, the loss was all so fresh, so deep and still bleeding. A few weeks ago, I lay in bed clinging to the phone as I poured my heart out to a friend. I remember being so ridden with guilt for almost forgetting where I had been. How can life seem so ‘normal’ now? I had a disappointing day at work and was fuming with emotion. It hit me, how can I allow something so miniscule to steal my hard worked for joy? My life was in shambles not that long ago and look how far the Lord has brought me. How could I forget so easily? How could I allow myself to get worked up over nothing when my heart has known immeasurable destruction?

I made a vow in that moment, I don’t want to forget.

It’s in the valley’s we get to know the heart of our Savior. It’s when, our lives as we know it have been obliterated that we feel the sweet presence of Jesus intervene in a supernatural way.

I close my eyes and remember the hard days. The days of not knowing what happened to my person. The days of gut-wrenching grief and screams to God. The days of packing brown boxes to move across town. The days of rocking my baby girl to sleep as I cried silently in desperation to the Lord because I had no idea what I was doing. The days of seeing hope and sunlight only to be pushed back in the dark tunnel of grief and depression.

I want to remember these days. It keeps me humble. It keeps my heart centered on Christ and His overwhelming goodness. It reminds me of how weak I am, and how unbelievably strong my Jesus is. It reminds me to surrender my heart and mind daily to Him. It reminds me to let go and cease striving.

“But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly of weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” 2 Corinthians 12:9-10.

These have become some of my favorite words in the entire Bible. I speak them often. I recite them before I have spoken at events. These words put Christ at the forefront of my insufficiencies. They murder my need to please and smother my perfectionist nature. They welcome my weaknesses so that Jesus can shine His power and receive the glory He so desperately deserves.

During my many months of grief and trauma counseling I begun to imagine grief in different ways. I often allow my mind to visit one illustration in-particular. Grief is this beautiful box. The box is blue and has colorful sequins displayed on it. The box has light dispersing from it. Inside the box are my memories. My favorite pictures from my old life, or songs that resonate memories, or maybe it’s words forever captured on paper that had been handwritten to me. This box is filled with beautiful memories. The box contains sad memories too. Harsh words, ‘I love you’s’ left unsaid. It is filled with the infamous ‘coulda, woulda, shoulda’s’. It is filled with regrets and gut-wrenching guilt. I put this box in a safe place. Maybe tuck it under my bed or put it away on the top of a shelf. I hide the box. I don’t want to see it every day. My heart can’t take it.

But I purposefully allow myself days and moments to look at this beautiful box. I allow myself to pick it up and touch it. I hold it close to me. Some days I allow myself to actually open the box. I delve in and touch the memories. I may cry–sweet tears or ugly cry with mascara running down my cheeks. I may laugh and laugh until my belly hurts. Sometimes I allow my baby girl to visit the box with me. I tell her about her daddy. I let her listen to his favorite songs. I show her pictures of him holding her. She refers to him as “my daddy who held me like a baby”. That is all she will ever see of him on this side of glory. My heart aches with unspoken grief of the loss she has experienced without even knowing it. I have to keep reminding myself that the Lord will cover all of her needs. I have to trust Him with her.

I’m learning grief will always be a part of my life. Grief isn’t always dark and grueling, it can be surprisingly beautiful if we allow the Lord to use our grief for His glory. Grief has taught me compassion and patience for others. It has opened my heart to a new realm of love and understanding of life. Grief has reminded me how short our lives are and reiterates the urgency to be eternally minded and heaven bound.

It hurts to go back.

But I don’t want to ever forget the hurt.

No matter the amazing blessings and sunshine the Lord allows to enter our lives, I don’t want to forget where I came from. No matter how normal life feels again, there is something so pure in being broken before the throne, with nothing to offer but your praise and shattered heart. God shows up and intricately re-creates the brokenness into a sculpture we could have never built or imagined for ourselves.

But it starts with surrender.

It requires trust.

The Lord keeps reminding me how easy it is to praise Him when life is rolling along, but what escapes your lips when life resembles heartache, broken dreams, and unmet expectations? Do you lay down and give up mentally, emotionally, spiritually? Or do you rise-up and praise Him even when the pain is suffocating and the confusion looms from every direction?

Maybe you have been through a season of devastation and grief but you’re finding yourself on the other side. Praise God for the new season. But never, ever forget what He’s brought you through. Or maybe you’re still in the season of darkness. Praise God for this season too. Allow yourself to cease striving and draw close to the Creator. He will carry you through. He will make beauty from the ash. It may not be on our timing and it may not look like what we had in mind, but that is why He is God, and we are not.

“The Lord is my strong defender; he is the one who has saved me. He is my God, and I will praise him, my father’s God, and I will sing about his greatness.” Exodus 15:2

“But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God’s own possession, so that you may proclaim the excellencies of Him who has called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.” 1 Peter 2:9

I Trust my God. I Trust my God. I Trust my God.

 

Love.

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“There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.” 1 John 4:18

Love. This is the word the Lord has pressed upon my spirit for the New Year. Love- a simple four letter word with more meaning than all the words in the dictionary can define. Love is something we all desire and yearn for. For me personally I know this word has been pressed upon my spirit in regards to how Christ loves us. To make it more personal, how Christ Loves ME. I have spent the majority of this last year in anxiousness. Striving to fix my brokenness or cover my brokenness up with momentary pleasures of life. What am I looking for I ask myself? The answer is Love. I can feel my Savior whispering to me ever so sweetly—“I am Love. I am the Love you are looking for. I’ve been here with you the whole time. Don’t you see me? Don’t you feel me caressing your broken heart? I’ve never ever left you. Please come fall into my arms.” That is Love. When I think of the places I’ve allowed my mind to go these last 12 months, from deep sadness, to exploding anger, to disgusting selfishness, to icky worldliness, but yet, here is my Jesus pursuing me, calling to me in the middle of my darkness. This Love trumps any romantic shallow term of love. This Love I’m referring to is an out of this world, undefined, knocks you off your feet and challenges you to run to the cross kind of Love. It brings you to your knees in repentance and leaves your dirty ashes shining like beautiful sunflowers. The kind of Love that turns unimaginable earthly pain into a purpose for His glory. There is nothing that compares to it. So why do I forsake it daily?

I’m stuck. I am stuck in my immature mind of expectations of life not being met. I am so focused on what I am starving for when in reality I have no reason to be hungry at all. I have the answer to everything living in my heart already. I have the wisdom of the Creator of the universe residing inside of me. Why do we as Christians live weak and depressed lives when we know this truth? Why are so many of us allowing the enemy to trample our thoughts and steal our peace and joy? Where is our David kind of boldness ready to sprint on the battle field and conquer fear? Where is our warrior spirit that rises up and steps into the Love that Christ is?

Can I be transparent? I am tired of being sick and tired. I am tired of allowing fear to win. I am tired of waking up every day and remembering how life used to be or allowing a desire to enter my heart of what I think I need, want or deserve and my life reflects zero of those expectations so I mentally and emotionally throw a fit and raise a fist at God. How selfish. This life is not about us. How have I become so self-centered in my journey? Maybe you feel this way too. I feel so off track spiritually.

I feel like the Apostle Paul when he writes “For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” Romans 7:15. So contradictory, yet so true. Don’t we all do this? It is time to wage war on the things of this world that tarnish the gospel. It is time to wage war on what we allow our minds to dwell on. It is time to wage war on what we allow our ears to hear or eyes to see. It is time to wage war on all that keeps us from running into the Love that is Jesus. We are the only thing that separates ourselves from experiencing the fullness of Christ. He does not withhold himself from us. Can you imagine that kind of earthly love? Where someone never withholds themselves, their feelings, their affections or emotions? A kind of love you can trust without a shadow of a doubt? A kind of love where you never question where you stand or wonder if you’re even loved at all? A kind of love that you know would always sacrifice? A kind of love that you trust would never leave you or forsake you? I don’t think that spotless and flawless love exists in human form. But we can experience it through our relationship with Christ when we surrender our fears and brokenness. Our spiritual walks become blurred when our minds are focused on this world.

Romans 8:5-8 tells us “For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of  the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit. For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God’s law, indeed, it cannot. Those who are in the flesh cannot please God.”

To operate in a spiritual Love is getting yourself off of your mind. It is living to glorify the Lord in all you think, act and speak. Love is waging war on all the filth that enters our minds and homes. Love is walking in God’s Will for our lives. Love is living in obedience to His Word. Living a life of this kind of Love is passionate and thrilling. It should never be boring because living a life with Christ is far from boring and the most epic, passionate, life-altering Love story our human minds can possibly imagine. It is being an intricate part of something that is galaxy sizes bigger than our selves. It is partnering with the creator of the Heavens and the earth and allowing Him to work through us to save souls to live out eternity in Heaven. That is our purpose. That is what our goal should be. Not to have a nice home, comfy job, perfect family, or great wealth and fame. Those things all fade and are gone in the blink of an eye. This epic Jesus Love compels us to run out of our comfort zones in the name of Christ. It creates an urgency in our souls to become more eternally minded and live with spiritual reckless abandon because we know that we have the power to show someone the hope of heaven rather than watch them live a life that heads to hell.

Love as Christ Loves. Do not treat people how they treat you, treat them how Christ Loves you. As Christ followers we have the power to change the world and show others a life-changing Love.

“Love is patient, is kind, does not envy, or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things hope’s all things, endures all things. Love never ends.” 1 Corinthians 13:4-8.

I challenge you to join me in pursuance of this kind of Love for 2019.

I Trust my God, I Trust my God, I Trust my God.

“Where Did My Daddy Go?”

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I watched as my husband held our daughters sleepy body against his chest. I watched as her head rested on his strong shoulder. His eyes said it all. Absolute adoration. Through my new mama exhaustion I sat up in the bed and took the sight in. I’m so glad I did. I never imagined that sight would be cut so short.

The last year and a half has been full of amazing spiritual revelations. The Lord is continuously walking me through healing that can only be done in His sovereignty. I have come to a place of acceptance… for myself.

But then I look down at my beautiful blue eyed, blonde haired baby girl and I lose my breath sometimes from the heartache.

Several weeks ago I was by myself in the line at Chick-Fil-A. In front of me were a gentleman and a young girl. I watched in a trance as this little girl took the man’s hand and began twirling. She looked up at him with such love as she giggled and sweetly repeated, “daddy, daddy”. His smile went from ear to ear. My heart started throbbing as I watched. The kind of throbbing that leads to tears. So there I was in the middle of the Chick-Fil-A line gulping down tears like a lunatic. I blinked as fast as I could so they wouldn’t fall. They fell anyway.

Grief happens so randomly and has no respect for your settings. I’ve learned to live with this.

Lately my grief surrounds my little girl. I have so many memories of being a daddy’s little girl growing up. I remember him teaching me how to do pushups and fight better than a boy. He taught me to ride my bike and then go-carts and 3-wheelers. He was the dad that was literally cleaning a shotgun when a boy came to pick me up for a date (let’s just say that date was short and the boy never asked me out again). My daddy taught me how to drive. He was there when I graduated high school and then college. He walked me down the aisle on my wedding day. All of these life long memories surrounding the man I get to call daddy, and I look down at my baby with fear that she will miss all of that.

I see my daughter watch other young children with their daddies. I see the wheels in her mind turning with questions. She is aware that something is missing. Then the dreaded day came. We were playing in her room, putting puzzles together, and building block towers. We were giggling and naming the pictures on the puzzles. All of a sudden she looked up with her piercing eyes and asked as clear as a cloudless day, “Mama, where did my daddy go?”

I stared in disbelief. I thought I had more time before I had to face this question. I was wrong.

How do you explain death to a 2.5 year old? After stuttering a few times I blurted out, “Daddy is in heaven”. How do you explain heaven?

She looked at me repeating the words daddy and heaven. She covered her face with her little hands and shouted “Noooo”. All she was hearing was that daddy isn’t here. The moment lasted less than a minute and of course being 2 she was on to the next attention grabbing thing. But this moment has set the tone for the weeks following. Every time we’re in the garage she will go to Cody’s tool bag and ask, “Is this my daddies?” I knew this time would come. The time of questioning. The time of searching for the right words and tone of voice. I feel selfish allowing this to engulf my thoughts sometimes… I mean there are so many children who grow up without parents or without both parents. It’s almost as if a home with both mom and dad are the rarity these days. I know I’m not the only parent who has the dreaded responsibility of trying to explain death and heaven to a young mind.

Still, I grieve with deep groaning’s from the soul. I grieve for my baby girl. I grieve for other fatherless children. I grieve for children who are growing up without their mothers. I grieve.

Just like any good parent I want to shield my child from any hurt. And when she hurts, I hurt.

Psalm 10:14 tells us, “But you God, see the trouble of the afflicted; you consider their grief and take it in hand. The victims commit themselves to you; you are the helper of the fatherless.”

When my protective mama-bear side surfaces I am reminded of the ultimate parental protector. Jesus. He doesn’t promise us a life of rainbows and butterflies. He doesn’t promise we won’t experience heartache and devastation. He just promises that we are never, ever alone. Ever. He is the daddy that trumps all human forms of the title daddy (or parent). I pray that Abby knows this with every fiber of her being and every inch of her heart from a very young age.

When we’re committed to seeking the Lord’s face in the midst of life’s chaos and triumphs we will not miss out on anything. When we put our hearts and minds in a place of daily surrender (sometimes minute to minute surrender) we are being guided exactly where the Lord wants us. Even if it means going through a season of devastation. I have to continue to believe that there is purpose in the pain and on the other side of grief there is joy unspeakable. I have to remain steadfast in hope that the Lord continues to choose to build beauty from all of the dark ashes floating around in the midst of our lives. I refuse to give up hope.

“A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy habitation.” Psalm 68:5

I Trust my God, I Trust my God, I Trust my God.

 

God Hasn’t Forgotten You

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My heart was heavy and my breathing labored as I made my way up the steep hill. I looked over at my friend who matched my steps. We caught our breath from the hill and begun our jog in the woods again. Our conversations went from laughter, to politics, to heaven, to the meaning of life. I looked at my friend and through tears uttered the words, “I feel like God has forgotten me.” I went on to describe how I had felt like a lost little girl as of late and how deep sadness had penetrated my soul.

Have you ever been through a season in life when you feel all alone and lost? A couple of weeks ago I was struggling a lot. Relentless grief and emotions had made their home in my mind and heart. It felt like the Lord was so far away. I could listen to worship music, read His Word and feel absolutely nothing. All I wanted to do was weep and complain about lost dreams and plans, or cry that my life is 100% not the way I had pictured it. I know my bitter heart and emotional head space were creating that distance between me and the Lord. Hebrews 13:5 tells us “… Be content with what you have, for he has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.””

I was allowing life to frustrate me. I was not being content with what I have right in front of me. I struggle with always wanting more, or wanting to get to the next season of life without truly enjoying and embracing where the Lord has me right now. My expectations were not being met in areas of life so therefore I momentarily lost my joy. Do not allow unmet expectations to steal your joy and peace. Your unmet expectations are a part of God’s bigger plan for your life. His ways are always good and much higher than ours. My mouth can say these words but my heart does not recognize them when I allow self-pity in.

I know Gods truth. I know I am to trust Him. I mean that has been my mantra for the last year and a half—I Trust my God, I Trust my God, I Trust my God. But can I be transparent… Some days I don’t. Some days my trust is on shaky ground. Some days I feel so heavy with hurt that I feel like there is no relief in sight. Some days I look around and see beautiful families. I see daddies who get to love their children and children who look up at them with irreplaceable adoration. I see smiling faces and hear laughter and joy exuding from families. I see all of this and I get jealous and resentful. I look at my daughter and beg God that she will never feel like she’s missing out. My heart literally feels as if it will burst out of my chest with hurt and anxiety over the uncertainty of our futures.

This is where my mind was during this particular run in the woods with my friend. My heart was desperate for relief or some kind of eternal comfort—the kind of comfort that only comes from the Holy Spirit.

The next morning I decided at the last minute to attend a Women’s Conference. I had a pulling in my spirit to go. Sitting through the conference I had an expectancy in my spirit. I didn’t want to feel distant from the Lord like I had been the last couple of weeks. When the conference ended I remember still feeling a bit empty. It was a joyful experience no doubt, but I was craving something deeper and more personal.

I left immediately following the conference. As I was walking through the parking lot I heard a voice saying my name. I turned to see the face of the woman who led worship at the end of the conference. She ran to me and introduced herself. “My name is Liz,” she said. “I know you don’t me, but I have followed your story and blog.” She went on to say how she has diligently prayed for me and my daughter during this season. Through tears she said—“I feel like the Lord has a word for you and I feel like I’m supposed to tell you that God hasn’t forgotten you. He hasn’t forgotten your daughter. The Lord has an amazing future for you both and this is just the beginning.”

….He hasn’t forgotten you.

The tears streamed down my cheeks. All I could say was thank you to this woman who ran after me in obedience to the Lord. She had no idea that I had spoken the words “I feel like God has forgotten me” to my friend just the day before. She had no idea the internal struggles I was having. But God knew. He spoke, she listened.

This five minute interaction in the parking lot was why I was supposed to be at the conference. This was the divine expectancy in my spirit I was sensing. I needed that personal word from the Holy Spirit. I needed that affirmation. Even though I already knew the truth that had been spoken I wasn’t receiving it on my own. God uses others to keep us lifted up and accountable to His truths and goodness. Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 tell us “Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor. If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up.”

Thank you, Liz for helping me up. Thank you for your obedience and sensitivity to the Holy Spirit.

To those reading this, maybe you’re in a season of feeling lost and deterred in life. Maybe you feel like life is passing you by. Maybe you feel like what you lack in life is magnified daily. Maybe your pride has been so thick that true healing seems impossible to reach… Remember it’s in these seasons that surrender is the most powerful and freeing. Let go and let God write His story for you.

Isaiah 42:5-9 speaks of Gods sovereignty, “Thus says God, the LORD, who created the heavens and stretched them out, who spread out the earth and what comes from it, who gives breath to the people on it and spirit to those who walk in it: I am the LORD; I have called you in righteousness; I will take you by the hand and keep you; I will give you as a covenant for the people, a light for the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness. I am the LORD; that is my name; my glory I give to no other nor my praise to carved idols. Behold, the former things have come to pass, and new things I now declare; before they spring forth I tell you of them.”

God Hasn’t Forgotten You.

I Trust my God, I Trust my God, I Trust my God.

Is Today Worthy Of Being Your Last?

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I sat up in the bed to wipe away my hot tears. I continued watching the woman on my television. She was in disarray. She locked herself in her apartment. She ate junk. She didn’t clean. She cried. She wept deeply. She was a complete mess. She was in the tunnel of grief. My heart ached. I remembered thinking to myself, “It’s just a movie”.  I sank back in the bed and turned to my husband next to me. He was sound asleep. I pressed into him, snuggling him, thanking God he was mine. I never wanted to be like the woman I saw in the movie. I never wanted to lose my husband.

My heart wouldn’t stop pounding and the ‘what if’ thoughts ran rampart in my head. The tears continued to spring forth. I remember pressing my lips so softly on my husband’s back, whispering faintly, “I Love you.”

The woman I was watching was the famous Hilary Swank and her heart-wrenching performance in ‘P.S. I Love You’.

It was the night of Thursday, January 12, 2017. Less than 48 hours before I would become a version of the woman I was watching on T.V.

Irony at its best.

Life is crazy, full of irony and so unpredictable. Just when we think we’ve got it all figured out and we are ‘safe’ in our bubble wrapped lives—everything can change in a split second. Everything we know becomes everything we knew. All of our ‘to do’ lists become insignificant.

I remember this night in such detail because it was the last night I would ever lay next to my husband. Friday, January 13, 2017 was his last full night on this earth. After a fun-filled evening of making a bonfire and eating s’mores with our then 8-month old daughter, we had made plans to watch a movie together as a family. He ended up working half the night in the yard and finishing office work for our company. He never came to bed.

I often wonder, had he known that was going to be his last full night on this earth, would he have chosen to spend it differently…?

What he was doing that night were great things that were assets to our home life. But he chose that over quality time with his family. We all fall short in this area. I have been so guilty of wanting to scratch out my to do list before taking the time to spend with loved ones. We get in a mind state of “tomorrow”.

But what if tomorrow never comes?

Everyone has a first day, and a last day, a first breath and a last breath. After experiencing great loss I try to be so aware of my actions every day. At the end of the day I have begun to ask myself—“Did I live this day like it could be my last? Do the people I care about know how much they mean to me? Did I laugh and smile today more than I cried? Did I live for this day or wallow in the past? Did I walk in integrity and represent Christ to the best of my ability? Was this day worthy of being my last?

Truthfully… The majority of the time the answer to these questions is no. I have good intentions when the day dawns, but I seem to get lost in life’s mundaneness while beginning to question Gods sovereignty when there’s so much darkness and heartache within. 

Have you ever waded through a season of life and the sadness and disappointments seem unrelenting? I find myself telling the Lord as of late… ‘I don’t want to walk this walk anymore. You picked the wrong person.’

How selfish and weak.

No thing is too great to go through with Jesus carrying us. Through my questions and experiencing Christ’s overwhelming presence when nothing else in life makes sense, I know He is good. He is always good.

Romans 12:2 tells us, “Don’t copy the behavior and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God’s will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect.”

The worst thing we can do when we experience life’s tragedies is to stay the same. I invite the Lord to continue to change my mind and mold my heart for His glory. A trying season in life is just that… a season. This too shall pass.

A new day is dawning.

A new season is approaching.

Healing is for the taking.

I challenge you to reach out and take what God has already left for us… His peace, His joy, His unrelenting Love.

Embrace each moment and walk in the healing presence of Jesus. His power to overcome resides inside of you. Become unified in that power and anointing. He will change your life and your view of spiritual mountains and giants. My prayer is that you will seek Gods ultimate and sovereign will for your life. I pray if you don’t know Christ as your savior then you won’t let another day end before asking Him to be Lord of your life. I pray you choose His will over comfort and satisfying the flesh. I pray the Lord gives you a supernatural insight on the importance of being eternally minded.

“Yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.” James 4:14

Is today worthy of being your last?

I Trust my God, I Trust my God, I Trust my God.