W

hen I was a child—like snow before it’s messed with—I’d lay in the front yard, hands behind my head, knees bent. I’d scan the Florida night sky. The stars twinkled, and the lesser light that rules the night disguised itself in various shapes and sizes traveling from one end of the heavens to the other playing hide-and-seek with me. Seeing the crescent moon’s smile, I’d wonder if God was smiling at me. I’d speak right out loud into the dark, “God, if You are there, if You are real, I want to know You.”

Then this child was messed with. Truth be faced, we all have “messed with” stories, and it messes us up.

In my twenties, in a hard place, is where God’s love met me. Long story short, one Sunday morning I attended church and heard the Good News. Convicted of my sin and wanting to know God with all my heart—I walked down a long aisle, knelt at the altar, prayed, and gave my life to Jesus—the One who gave His life for me. Amazing grace, born-again, sins forgiven, white as snow!

I had an unquenchable desire to read my Bible and attend church every time the doors were open. A young mom with a two-year-old, the time had to be early in the morning. Plus living in a small house, well, there was only one place I could be alone. Entering and closing the door behind me, kneeling in front of the throne, my Bible on the closed toilet lid, I approached the Throne of Grace praying and reading His Truth.

Not being raised in church, I had no preconceived ideas about what being a Jesus-Follower looked like. One day, while reading Jeremiah 29:12-13, the words seemed to jump off the page, “Then you will call on Me and come and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. You will seek Me and find Me when you seek Me with all your heart“. With child-like faith, I just believed that if I seek God, I could know God, because that’s what the Holy Bible said.

This thirsty soul for Love met with the Lover of my soul drinking in His 66 Love Letters and hiding the eternal Word of God in my heart and getting to know my Savior and Lord, Jesus!

In the beginning, it was noisy and hard to focus—sounds inside and outside the house distracted me, but mostly the thoughts in my head disrupted loud. I learned to ignore the sounds until I no longer heard them, as for my thoughts, I’d write them down: call that person, remember that appointment, don’t forget…until my mind stilled. I named this time with Jesus, “my quiet time”. As time went by, all noises and all voices were drowned out in the presence of God, and in the quiet, I learned to recognize the Holy Spirit’s still small voice—which I call Hope Whispers.

God answered my childhood yearning. It didn’t happen how I would have ever imagined or wanted. It was out of desperation that I met with Jesus day after day. It wasn’t because I was super-spiritual; it was because I was super needy for what only Jesus could give me every day—hope.

Through the years the Word of God has kept me coming back for fresh hope, and Jesus has kept me.

For decades I’ve journaled my joys and sorrows, laughter and tears, dreams and disappointments, laments and praise, prayers and the Living Word of God, and Hope Whispers. I poured out my heart to my Creator—who holds my heart in His tender care. I shared the deepest secrets with the Omniscient God of the Universe who knows me better than I know myself and—He still loves me!

I never thought another soul would read one word from my journals. Three years ago, I sensed the Holy Spirit prompting me to—share. What?! Seriously?! And I seriously began praying! Surrendering to my Lord, I’m trusting now is His timing.

You and I come into this world having no idea the journey that lies before us. Our lives unfold one second at a time, and we discover (some sooner, others later) life is full of surprises—good and bad, happy and sad, exhilarating and terrifying, joy and grief, healing and brokenness, laughter and tears, and a long list of other surprises.

Where would I be without Jesus? Throughout all my life, my faithful Lord has been close to this frail jar of clay.

Some days, I’ve felt like a million particles of meaningless dust scattered low—Hope Whispers, “Precious, I’ve kissed the breath of life into dust before, and I’m still doing it today.”

Hope rises deep in my spirit. The eyes of my heart—singular—and with the strength and grace my Lord supplies, I rise to continue the journey Home focused on my All in All—Jesus.

It’s my prayer that the God of all hope will meet you right where you are. May the still small voice of the Holy Spirit ignite your spirit, encourage your heart, restore your soul, and give you fresh hope day after day as we journey Home together. Welcome fellow sojourner.🌻