~ the end of a decade ~

Dearest Twenties,

It seems impossible to me that our time together is drawing to an end. How has it already been ten years?! It feels as though we just met the other day and yet, here I sit writing you a goodbye letter. I think time sped up on me without my consent!

How do I put into words all the emotions I’m feeling today? The excitement over meeting Thirty and seeing what adventures we get up to together. The sadness over leaving the comfort I’ve found with you behind. I feel a bit out of sorts with this change happening once today rolls into tomorrow and tomorrow becomes my new today. Thirty is coming to take your place whether I feel ready or not.

You and me, we’ve had quite a ride these past ten years, my friend. Filled with hills and valleys I wasn’t sure we’d survive and hairpin turns that left my brain spinning with their swiftness. Sometimes it seemed we were unstrapped in a tilt-a-whirl with no way off the ride, despite my begging for it all to stop. Oh, the things we encountered along the way…

At the start of our journey, we picked up an unwanted passenger, Sickness, causing us to make visits with Betrayal and Heartache. While Betrayal’s visit was swift, Heartache has continued to flit in and out of our life over the years. And that pesky Sickness has made itself quite at home {but I'm praying it gets an eviction notice soon!}

We also met Peace in the midst of raging life-storms, when it made no sense for it to even be there. We met Hope that helped brighten a seemingly dark future when Sickness was really being a bully. We met Joy that gave us strength for the hard times, a way to smile and press on despite the pain.

We met Love… so much Love. We encountered it in the Father’s heart towards us, even when we felt so very undeserving. It broke through the walls Shame & Guilt were trying to build around us, introducing us to Freedom & Grace instead. It showed up in the support of those closest to us, the ones who stayed true when others walked away. 

And Love showed up in the heart of a man, JRB. [Out of all the people we met during our time together, Twenties, he’s my favorite.]

We sure have encountered a lot of Love.

*Photo found on Pinterest

Oh, the things we’ve done this past decade. The experiences we’ve had, the paths we’ve traveled with loved ones. The good, the bad, and the in-between. I’m learning to be thankful for them all.

Hospitals. Musicals.

Weddings. Divorces.

Funerals. Births.

Hellos. Goodbyes.

New adventures. Daily routines.

Among the clouds. On the ground.

Crowds. Solace.

Silence. Speaking.

Crying. Singing.

Weakness. Dancing.

Laughter. Tears.

Confusion. Trust.

Worry. Peace.

Doubts. Faith.

Hurts. Forgiveness.

Hate. Love.

Acceptance. Judgment.

Broken. Healed.

The list could just keep growing as I take my trip down memory lane. Soon, the memories I’ve made with you and the photos taken to document them will be all that's left of our time together. And I’m learning to be thankful for that too. Because, even though I’m sad to see my time with you end, Thirty is an adventure I didn’t think I’d get to take. So to be here, on the verge between what is and what will be, is an incredible place to be!

To you, Dear Friend, I extend my heartfelt thanks for this amazing adventure. It wasn’t at all what I envisioned my time with you would be, but I’m thankful for each moment - the good and bad alike. 

Thank you for the lessons you taught me: 

to keep fighting and never give up, 

to keep dreaming and dream big, 

to keep loving like I’ve never been hurt,

to embrace “but if not..”,

that there’s beauty in surrender,

to choose His will over my own,

& Love wins.

I will carry the wisdom gained during my time with you into the next adventure, to help me continue growing into the woman He’s called me to be. Though our portion of my story must soon end, I’ll forever hold you in my heart. Thank you for giving me some of the greatest moments of my life. I won’t forget you…

Onward I must go. I sure hope Thirty is ready for me!

Love you big,

Me

*Photo found on Pinterest

The Story of Her Smile

There’s a story captured in this moment here - 

A beautiful reminder that I need not fear,

A promise and Truth for my heart to hear:

Life’s storms may come, but the rainbow always appears.

Oh, my soul, be at peace - your God is near.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I had a random urge recently to change my computers background image so I went hunting through my laptops photo gallery. As I scrolled through the many life moments I had captured, I came across the above picture and I got stuck there. Something about this moment wouldn’t let me keep scrolling.

I hesitated to choose this picture because of the poor quality of the image, but then I got sucked into my husband’s eyes and I suddenly didn't care if it was blurry or not. And then there’s the visual proof of how good my guy makes a beard look… 

And then I glanced at the woman sitting beside him.

Then I sat there and stared at her.

There’s a story in her smile and I need to remember it.

You see, the me in this picture - the me who’s smiling and appears to be happy… would you guess I'm experiencing high levels of pain at that moment? And by that I mean, I was in so much pain that each breath hurt. And yet, I'm smiling.

This picture was taken at a concert in Toledo, OH back in February of 2017. I was struggling to recover from my latest chronic attack. I was existing on a couple bananas eaten over a three-day time span, causing me to be extremely weak. My whole torso was screaming at me, sending shots of pain throughout my system on top of the steady throbbing I was already experiencing. I felt depleted of all energy, not real confident in my legs’ ability to support me. And all I wanted to do was curl up in the fetal position and escape the world for a little while.

But the tickets had been purchased, the hotel rooms booked, the plans made. So I traveled with my husband and parents in faith, praying I wouldn’t relapse while we were gone. Every single moment of that trip hurt, but you know what? I wouldn’t go back and change my decision to go {and not only because I met Danny Gokey while we were there!}

There’s something beautiful about taking a risk. Scary, even terrifying at times. But beautiful nonetheless. Because when I step out in faith with no clue how it’s going to work, when I allow myself to be completely dependent on Him to carry me through - I've found that’s when I often encounter God’s love for me at a whole new depth.

When I step out and then get out of His way, He never fails to move.

Maybe you’ve been there. 

Or maybe you're there now.

The pain is too intense, you don’t know how to move. The bills are too big, you don’t know how you’ll pay. The relationship is failing, you don’t know how to fix it. Your loved one is slipping, you don’t know how to catch them. 

The goal is too far, you don’t know how you’ll complete it. The dream is too crazy, you don’t know how to reach it. The calling is too great, you don’t know how to fulfill it.

Life can be so overwhelming at times. Everything seems so big that our vision becomes eclipsed by it. We can’t see around it, above it, below it, or through it. The storm clouds are so dark, we can't imagine ever seeing a rainbow again.

It’s in those moments, those dark and hopeless-feeling moments, that something truly beautiful can be found. Because it’s in those times we get to choose to experience the beautiful surrender.

Surrender of our fear. Our doubts. Our worries.

Surrender of our pride. Our selfishness. Our way.

Surrender of all that we are to all that He is.

His love will never fail us.

He can’t be less than good.

He remains faithful in our struggles.

And He’s working out His plan for us.

All we have to do is trust.

                           ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You see me in the picture above, smiling and seemingly happy.

That’s because I am…

Despite all the pain and hurting, I know I am blessed.

Despite whatever you’re facing, so are you.

Do you have a picture of a moment that can serve as a reminder of this for you?

{If so, can I see it? I would so love that!}

The struggle doesn’t define me and it doesn't have to define you. The enemy would have us believe that lie, but we get to choose: complain or rejoice. Curse Him or bless Him. 

Be bitter or be thankful. Scowl... or smile.

" A cheerful heart puts a smile on your face..." - Proverbs 15:13 TPT

*If you're interested in reading more about what I learned from this chronic attack, check out my post "Artist at Work"

{ where are you? }

I went down to the altar to meet You, but You didn't seem to be there.

I tried to see You amidst the crowd of Your followers, but I couldn’t find You.

I let one of Your children pray for me anyway.

And then I walked back to my seat, wrestling with disappointment and frustration.

I wondered why I even bothered going down in the first place.

The outcome wasn’t a surprise.

I still wasn’t healed.

Why, God? Where are You?

A man who loves You asked us to be still.

To make ourselves open to encountering You.

We asked You questions and awaited Your response.

Oh. There You are, Jesus…

*Photo found on Pinterest

              ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Above is a jumbled mess of thoughts I experienced while at a concert earlier this year.

During the event, Big Daddy Weave’s lead singer, Mike Weaver, lead us through an encounter with Jesus. In doing this, he had us think of two specific moments in our lives - 1) a moment when we felt joyful and 2) a moment when we felt despair. He then encouraged us to ask Jesus where He was in those times.

To explain the second moment for me, the bleak moment in my life that was dark and hard, I need to first give a little back story for those who may not already know this about me.

In 2010, I became extremely ill. Over the course of a couple months, my life got flipped upside down: my diet dwindled drastically, my pain increased tremendously, and I dropped 40lbs which really freaked me out. None of the doctors I saw knew what was going on and, frustratingly, they didn’t seem to take my issues seriously. They just kept trying different meds to mask the symptoms rather than discover and fix the problem. I was often left feeling like I was merely a nuisance to them.

One of the medicines they decided to try was to be taken right before bedtime. So I followed the doctor’s orders, took my first pill, and went to sleep. In the middle of the night, I was awoken by pain the likes of which I can’t adequately describe. In short, I felt like a hole had been punched in my chest cavity and my insides were ripped out, leaving behind a gaping chasm of fiery lava. 

Mom called 911 and I was rushed to the ER via ambulance. The doctor there kept asking me what I had taken, telling me he couldn’t help me until he knew what was already in my system. I kept replying that I only took the doctor prescribed pill and begging him to help me, but he was convinced there was something else I had taken - too many sleeping pills or some sort of recreational drug and/or illegal substance. 

As I lay in the emergency room cubicle, I was 100% certain I was about to die. Me: dead at 21. I knew the doctor wasn’t going to be able to stop the pain in time and that my heart wasn’t going to withstand much more. And because of the severe pain that I was in, I was okay with it. As I laid there, I prayed what I now call my goodbye prayer. I told Jesus that I was ready to be with Him - if it meant I’d be free of the pain, then I was ready to die. I very clearly remember asking Him to give Mom the strength to walk out of the hospital without me and to comfort her as she made the call to my dad and siblings, letting them know I was gone.

I knew I was going to die. I don’t say that for dramatic effect. No, I was fully certain that there was about to be an Andi-shaped hole in my family’s world.

That moment, laying on that gurney in the icky hospital room in Arkansas - that’s the moment that came to mind when Mike told us to think of a bad day.

My immediate follow-up thought was, “What am I doing back here, God? We’ve already talked about this day. Aren’t we done with it?” I then tried bringing a different moment to mind, but that darn day wouldn’t make room for any other to form in my head. 

So when prompted, I said, “Okay, Jesus… where were You?”

And y’all, what I saw… oh boy.

I was there - laying on that gurney and writhing in agony. The doctor was on my right side, questioning me over and over. And in reality, it was Mom on my left side, holding my hand - in the vision I saw Jesus there instead. He was bending over me with His left hand resting on and covering the burning hole in my chest. And He was weeping over me.

Not polite, silent tears. Weeping.

To see Him so moved by my pain that it brought Him to tears ministered to my heart and my faith in huge ways that night.

By seeing that vision, He opened my eyes and gave me a realization that I had unknowingly been living with the belief that Jesus is sorta indifferent to my pain. Not that He doesn’t care that I’m in pain and not that He doesn’t love me, but because He knows the end of the story, He’s not really affected by the moments leading up to it. He knows the exact moment that my healing will manifest, whereas I’m left in the waiting of Unknown. 

In reflecting on the experience and pondering what God revealed, this is my conclusion: a part of how I came to believe Him indifferent to my pain stems from how I’ve felt at times after people have prayed for me. There are times I’ve left a prayer service feeling condemned and as if it’s my fault that I’m this way. There are times I’ve walked away with a confused heart, not understanding why my mustard seed faith wasn’t good enough. And there are many times that I feel guilty and like I’ve let the dear ones praying for me down when they say amen and I’m still not fully healed. Somewhere in the midst of all that, the enemy planted the little seed that I unintentionally nourished - because surely He must feel indifferent, otherwise He’d have been moved to heal me by now… right? {Thank You, Father, that You tear down lies and reveal Truth!}

I needed that moment with Jesus. I needed to see His tears on my behalf. 

First, because it brought to light a lie that I was unaware of, allowing me to repent of it and to break its hold on me. Second, because we’re once again searching for answers amongst the medical field, fighting to have more tests run and refusing to settle for “everything’s normal” and “you’re fine”. This all makes me super nervous ‘cause the tests tend to bring me more pain than I’m already in. 

He knows exactly what I need for the days ahead. And because He can be no less than good, He gave me that moment at the beginning of this journey to encourage me and strengthen me.

*Photo found on Pinterest

Wherever you are, Friends, I believe He’s right there with you and that He wants to do the same for you. I believe He longs to meet with you and that He desires to minister to your hearts. I encourage you to find a moment today and just be still. Shut out the distractions of the room and let your mind go silent for a short bit. Close your eyes and focus on Him.

There in the silence, when it's just you and Him - think of a good day. A moment in your life when you felt pure joy, a moment that was made for happiness. Do you see it? 

While the memory plays out behind your eyelids, ask Him: Jesus, where were you?

Do you see Him? If you can’t see Him, do you sense Him? He's there...

Now, let the opposite moment come to mind - think of the bad day. The day when the hurt came, the moment when your world was flipped upside down. Let that moment fully form in your head. Do you see it? 

Once you have that moment in mind, ask Him again: Jesus, where were You?

Do you see Him? If you can’t see Him, do you sense Him?

I pray today is a day where you encounter Him, Friends. And that you find Him in all of your tomorrows.

                    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Thank You, Jesus, that You are a Friend Who delights in our happy moments. Thank You that You dance with us in the sunshine and find joy in the beauty of our laughter. And I thank You, Jesus, that You are our ever present help in times of trouble. That You are our faithful comfort and strength. I thank You that You do not shy away from our hard times, nor are You scared of our pain. You enter into it with us, You endure it by our side. You are good and kind when life seems anything but. I thank You for showing up to minister to our hearts, for meeting each of us right where we’re at. I give You praise and glory for Who You are and for all You do for us. May we continue to encounter You in our daily lives, knowing that You are with us every step of the way, the good days and the not-so-good ones too. We love you, Abba. Amen <3

Enduring Faith {part 3}

It’s so easy to get wrapped up in our daily lives, isn’t it?

There are groceries to buy. Laundry to do. Gas tanks to fill.

Another work day to get through. A friend-date to look forward to. A kids program to attend.

The floor needs sweeping, the dishes need washing, and *gag* the toilet needs scrubbing.

We accomplish one thing only to accumulate three more, it seems! It’s never-ending, this to-do list of life. They’re not bad things {although I’m not sure I’d label toilet scrubbing under “good”} just time-consuming.

Or maybe it’s more accurate to call them mind-consuming…

Growing up, I was taught that this world is temporary and should never be my focus, but to instead keep my eyes on Him and the things that hold eternal value. To not get bogged down in the stuff that will one day fade away.

The insatiable hunger, achy joints, and muscle fatigue.
The anxiety over being anxious.
The stabbing abdominal sensations.

The questions: why? when? will it ever...?

Over the past year, I went deeper into being eternity-focused through time spent worshipping to Kim Walker-Smith’s, “Throne Room”. 

“I fall on my face with angels and saints 

and all I can say is ‘holy, holy, holy are You, God!’ 

My heart can’t contain the weight of Your name 

and all I can say is ‘holy, holy, holy are You!’”

Those lyrics became an anthem of sorts for me. I started picturing myself there - running into God’s throne room and falling prostrate before Him. Beholding His majesty, His beauty, His countenance; and being left only able to claim His holiness.

Can you picture it? Can you see yourself there, worshipping the King?

I found myself really moved and challenged by these lyrics. They stirred up a hunger in me - a desire to remain in a posture of exalting Him no matter what's happening around or within me. And I think that’s what changed my perspective during that painful first week of December. My heart had been tuned to the eternal, so the temporary pain didn’t feel so big.

When our gaze is fixed on the eternal, the temporal begins losing its grasp on us.

*Grace upon grace

All my fear falls away

Only Your perfect love 

for me remains

Instead of fretting about this illness, being scared I wouldn’t come out of the attack, and worried about its lasting effects - I had peace. 

I had pain. And nausea. I woke up in panic attacks, scrambling for JRB to help me. But even in the midst of all that, there was this eternal peace. My spirit was at rest.

It was {and is} well with my soul.

Because of these things God’s been revealing to me, these Truths that He’s planting deep within me and lovingly tending, I am at peace. I am confident of His goodness and His faithfulness towards me. 

Whether or not He takes this physical pain away, I will continue to trust Him.
Whether I’m ever healed on earth or not, I will gladly follow Him.

For He is holy. Oh, so holy.

        

         -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       

When I began this series, it took me a while to decide on what to title it. I asked for opinions, I thought through different options, I talked to Jesus about my ideas. And in the process, one name was highlighted: Enduring Faith. 

Because that’s the kind of faith I want.

A faith that stands strong under the weight of all life brings. 

A faith that does not flee in the face of the enemy’s taunts and attacks. 

A faith that attracts others into His Presence and Love.

A faith that continues when the world says quit; 

perseveres when the world pushes in; 

remains when others flee.

A faith that beautifully endures.

Read Enduring Faith {part 1} and Enduring Faith {part 2} for the rest of the story!

All lines preceded by an asterisk (*) are lyrics from "Throne Room".

Enduring Faith {part 2}

Hope. A confident expectation of things to come.

Photo found on Pinterest

*Get your hopes up

Lift your head up

Let your faith arise

Get your hopes up

Our God is for us

He’s brought us back to life

With all the medical testing and procedures done to me over the years, all coming back with the same results stating that I’m fine; with the chronic attacks continuing to happen with no end in sight - - - I’ve struggled to hold onto hope when it all looks so bleak. 

I remember one day in the summer of 2016 standing at our kitchen island with JRB, weary from the long recovery from the latest attack. I was feeling completely wrung out - physically, emotionally, spiritually. I had yet another test coming up, though, and my husband was trying to encourage me to think positively, to entertain the possibility that this test may finally lead us to an answer; to not give up hope.

I very clearly recall looking into his eyes while feeling so bleak and telling him, “You’ll have to hope for the both of us because I just can’t. I don’t want to anymore. Hope hurts.”

{If you’d like to read more about the events leading up to that conversation, see my post, “Another Year Older”}

Allow me a moment to offer a bit of clarification to ensure no misunderstandings here - - -

It was not my Hope in Jesus that was causing me pain; it was hoping for {anticipating} a change in the physical realm through the medical professionals that kept going unfulfilled that was hurting me.

I envision it like this: my hope is a boat. Just a normal, everyday-use type boat. Nothing to brag about. And it’s a boat that’s about to face some bad weather…

The sky starts to darken as a storm rolls in. I start to get nervous as I realize that my boat can’t outrun or escape this storm, but rather I’ll have to drop anchor and pray that it (and I) are still intact when the weather passes.

The storm hits. The winds howl and the rains crash down: the waves rise and fall, sending my boat careening one way and then crashing back in the other direction. Smooth sailing this is not.

Despite what’s raging on the surface, though, the anchor holds. Though the ship is battered, the anchor holds. 

*b I have fallen on my knees

as I face the raging seas

The anchor holds

in spite of the storm

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Photo found on Pinterest

*I see the sun waking up the morning

reviving dreams

I feel the wind on my back with promise

reminding me - - -

For the past few years, I’ve been receiving prophetic words about being given permission to dream, being encouraged to dream, and to dream bigger than I ever have before.

I’ve taken these words to heart, meditated on and prayed over them, and asked God to help me discover what my dreams are. What is it that I long to see happen?

To write more. To encourage more readers through sharing my story.

Counseling teenage girls. On life, love, and doing it all God’s way {cause it’s the best way!}

Being a mom. Loving all the Littles God brings us as we raise them to know Him.

Being healthy. To no longer live life hindered by this unknown illness.

I’m dreaming more. I’m dreaming bigger. And yet… I find myself hesitant to believe these dreams won’t always stay a mere dream, but rather become my reality.

Confession: I tend to live life with a “don’t plan on the best happening so you won’t be disappointed when it doesn’t” type mentality. *Cringe*

I had begun dreaming, but I was struggling to attach hope to these dreams.

And then. God spoke to me.

One Sunday, as I was imagining someday seeing my own Littles playing with the other kids at church, our worship team began to play the chorus I shared at the beginning of this post. I heard God whisper to me in that moment, “You’re doing the dreaming, now you need to do the believing. Get your hopes up ‘cause I won’t disappoint you.”

With His words, I was prompted to begin a learning journey of how to hope. 

Even in the bad times, on the hard days, when the future appears bleak. When all the dreams seem impossible and my mind is filled with doubts. I am learning to hope even then.

*There’s a garment of praise for heaviness

There’s a new song burning inside my chest

I’m living in the goodness that He brings

No matter what lies ahead, I won't despair [even if this pain doesn’t pass] but rather remain hopeful knowing my Heavenly Cure has been procured. When this body grows weary from the chronic storms of life, it will remain well with my soul for Hope is its Anchor [Hebrews 6:19].

Photo found on Pinterest

Friends, if your hope-boat is springing leaks in the midst of life’s storms, I pray you find peace in knowing the Anchor is not affected by the gales.

~ Coming soon: Enduring Faith {part 3} ~ Reading part 1 offers helpful backstory to parts 2&3

{All lines preceded by an asterisk (*) symbol are lyrics from Josh Baldwin’s, “Get Your Hopes Up”. Lines preceded by *b are lyrics from Ray Boltz’s, “The Anchor Holds”}

Enduring Faith {part 1}

Hello again, Friends, & Happy New Year!

I'm excited to start this year with a new experience: writing a 3 part series - I've never done a series before so yay for new adventures! 

As always, I pray you find hope and encouragement nestled somewhere within these words.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The Story

On Sunday, December 4th, 2017, I had a severe health attack. An “attack” takes my daily pain and nausea levels to such extreme heights that ER trips become required. Knowing this, I reached out for prayer through Facebook and people responded. I fully believe it was because of their petitions on my behalf that I was saved from needing to be rushed to the hospital that week. Thank You, Jesus!

It was still a really hard week, though. I wasn’t able to eat which caused me to lose weight, scarily bringing me under 90lbs. I became super weak, necessitating JRB to carry me around our home. Because of all this and more, I wasn’t left alone for any extended periods of time because it wasn’t safe for me to be on my own.

Here I am today - almost a full month later - still struggling with higher levels of pain and nausea. My pain is still so intense that I’m frequently missing out on life stuff because of it. It’s hard. And frustrating. I’m so.very.ready to be back to my normal…

Usually, when these attacks happen I struggle to stay positive. It’s easy to get depressed in these times because 1) there’s no apparent end in sight for me and 2) chronic illnesses can be very lonely and isolating because, despite people trying to understand or thinking they can relate, no one truly gets what I’m going through every single day. 

This time was different, though. Despite how bad I got physically, I didn’t sink into a funk from the weeks of unending pain and tears.

And I began to question why. What was so different this time that, while physically I got weak and drained, emotionally and spiritually I stayed above it? I began asking God to reveal to me what had changed and He reminded me of three things:

1) The impact from Kim Walker-Smith’s song, “Throne Room”

2) What He whispered to me after hearing “Get Your Hopes Up” by Josh Baldwin

3) A dream I had on September 12th, 2017

Normally, I complete a list in order but for this, I’m giving myself the freedom to do it differently - which means I’m starting at the end. Ah, the perks of being the writer...

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The Dream:

I woke up that Tuesday morning at 4:45am from a very vivid dream. I immediately felt like God was prompting me to get up and record the dream so I wouldn't forget it. I'd never experienced that feeling before so I paid attention and did it.

A group of women were out exploring and came upon an unnaturally wide canyon, one they needed to cross. The path down to the water was not going to be easy - it was filled with deep pits and piles of huge branches they’d have to navigate around and through. It wouldn’t be a smooth journey, but it was the only way forward. 

Everything was fine and calm as they began the journey when, suddenly, a wall of fire appeared behind them. Whereas the group had been moving at a leisurely pace, they were now scrambling in panic. They started to run, moving as fast as they could despite the obstacles. 

My viewpoint then changed to ahead of the group and I saw that not only did they need to cross over the water somehow, but they would then need to find a way to climb high up the other side of the deep canyon. There was no formed route prepared for them.

At this point, I heard one woman exclaim, “Wow! Look at her - it’s like she’s not even sinking… it’s like the waves are helping her!” One woman had reached the water before the rest of her friends and she was laughing with her arms stretched out to her sides. 

And she was running across the water. 

I noticed that, instead of the waves rushing towards shore like normal, they were actually going the opposite way and carrying her across. The further she ran, the higher the waves went as if their sole purpose was getting her safely to the other side. 

This woman had such faith that she wasn’t going to sink that she never even hesitated in running towards the water. She simply believed. When her friends saw what was happening, her faith became contagious and they began to believe that they could do it too.

And so they ran towards the waves by faith.

As each woman reached the water, the waves begin to meet them individually. The waves carried them safely to their destination as the women kept moving forward in faith. 

They didn’t sink. They didn’t even get wet. They simply kept running, laughing and filled with joy. And I heard this song:

 I run across the waves

 I run across the waves

 I run across the waves

By Your grace

 I dance atop the waves

 I dance atop the waves

 I dance atop the waves

By Your grace

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Friends, I believe this was a prophetic dream because that’s exactly what I did during my latest health attack. 

I ran across the waves of despair, smiling. 

I ran across the waves of pain, hoping. 

I ran across the waves of hopelessness, believing. 

I ran across the waves…by His grace.

And I danced with the knowledge that I am wholly loved.

For me, this dream paints a beautiful portrayal of this adventure we call Life. The women had many obstacles to navigate to get to their ultimate destination; we all face similar impediments on our journey to ours as well. We face times when, one moment we’re moving along calmly and, in the next, we’re sent running from a fire that seemingly came out of nowhere. In our panic, we may look ahead, see a huge hurdle that we have no way of crossing, and become hopeless and filled with dread.

And that’s when we must choose. 

Do we stop moving forward and let the trials consume us in their flames…

 or do we confidently race toward the water, trusting that our God will provide

a safe way across?

Others are watching us, waiting to see which choice we will make. Friends walking alongside us, strangers following behind. Little and still innocent eyes. Older and knowing eyes. Hurting and seeking eyes. The world is searching for something {for Someone} that they don't know how to find. Might we be what reveals the Way?

I don't know about you, but I want to be a woman of such contagious faith that it inspires others to run full out towards the waves...

Whatever you may be going through, Friends, I know my God can help you run across the waves of life. That by His grace you can stay aloft and dry, despite the raging storm waters around you.

So my prayer is that you’re able to focus on God and see His goodness in the midst of your trial. That you can hold onto hope in the midst of the struggle. And that you run, with arms stretched wide and a smile on your face, racing across the waves in faith. 

Because He is with you and He is for you… so it’s all going to be okay.



*Coming soon: Enduring Faith {part 2} and Enduring Faith {part 3}!*