11 Months Later

Published on April 11, 2018April 12, 2018 by Elizabeth4 Comments

Believing in Beautiful … was written 11 months ago. What in the world have I been doing since then? Why no writing? Have I no words?

The truth is, I took a self-imposed sabbatical from justdotoday, citing personal reasons. I needed space to breath and be still, to seek God’s will and to hear his whispers, to respond to new ways with love and then always allow redemption to lead the way.

Simply put, my world, other’s worlds needed to settle and to solidify and our souls needed time to spend with each other before I exposed one of the greatest love stories in my life.

Love as exquisite as it is, takes time to grow and to become the bond that cements relationships. I knew better than to charge through this season of relationship building like the Bull Run we see in Spain. To treat this next life chapter as a set of mechanics would have been a sin.

Instead, the Holy Spirit guided me to stay sensitive, to let the pace and rhythm of my life and all those involved to work its way out, and to move through this unprecedented time period with ease, but with acute awareness. Truly, we were and are traveling through Holy Ground and He let me know, time was His gift, allowing everyone to settle down, to settle in and then to see and experience the fruits of His love. He let me know there was a lot of living left to do. Therefore, rushing and pushing through with my own agenda or allowing anyone else to establish their preferred course of action simply wasn’t going to work.

That isn’t to say, I haven’t been lovingly harassed and chided for the last 330 days!! “Mom, you need to write a blog!”, Brooke tried to enforce. Her excitement always propelling her to push. “Elizabeth, what about justdotoday and your book?” David prodded on a weekly basis. His reasoning was to get back to the business of writing and ultimately finishing my publishing project. I understood and loved their ways and reasons to move everything forward at a faster pace.

Yes. I heard them. Yet. I knew not to listen. Instead, I intentionally instituted selective hearing when they spoke.

Why? Well, simply put, I wasn’t taking my direction from them. What they didn’t realize was nothing they could say or do would have swayed me to tell the story, until I knew it was time. Their constant attempts at persuasion were love punches, I know. However, this isn’t their story to write.

This is God’s story and watching for His ques and listening for His whispers was and is where my inspiration swells from.

Over time and in person, the story has been told to others in safe settings and with trusted souls. I have shared it myself. As well, I have been a bystander when someone else is revealing the blessing bestowed upon our family. Each time, the orator and it’s audience reap God’s riches! Teary eyes and tender hugs are the genuine responses “we” receive when we share. Whether it be Brooke, David, Melissa, myself or even an extended family member telling a friend, when people hear, they are happy. Happy for her, happy for us, happy for everybody!!!!

This week a Facebook post where David and I were referred to as “Grands” moved God’s story beyond the sacred circle of family and close friends. Oh, what a beautiful year and a half it has been; creating new memories, laughing and smiling ALOT, loving in new ways and being busier than before! It is all so good. Yet, I’m grateful for the more private space we carved out for ourselves, giving our family time and space to grow and be united as ONE before opening up to the world.

However, as I showered on Monday morning, I processed the FB post that was shared and the responses from people it elicited.

“Grand role? What did I miss?” a friend wrote seeking explanation. Like often before, my thoughts traveled to, “Oh my, I wonder what they will think, when they know?” I have no reason or past actions to make me think someone will have an adverse reaction. However, inevitably that thought snakes itself into my thinking and creates unnecessary havoc! (Satan get under my feet!!!)

But, no doubt, during this 18-month journey, that question has caused anxiety and fear to run rabid inside of me. Shame would try to steal the show and shut down any light being shed on love. But, by the grace and goodness of God, this particular cleansing on this particular Monday morning had a different outcome.

Instead, of feeling embarrassed of my past, where I wanted to scrub the past sin off my skin. I was ecstatic and alive and free to share my future. Goose bumps traveled up my spine and caused my scalp to tingle and my heart raced with excitement!! Combine that with the new expensive shampoo I have been sampling, I didn’t want to get out of the shower!!! Honestly, I was held by the heavenly massage my mind and body were receiving. But, my soul was experienceing a Go Tell It On The Mountain kinda moment!!!

Indeed, this was the kind of holy harassing I have been waiting and watching for!!!!! It is this internal signal of readiness, the knowledge that happens on the inside, not suggestions from an outer source, but instead a confirmation from within that has signaled me to open up!

Yes, the time has come to share! I’m ready, we are ready, I believe so many involved are in a healthy place making them ready . But, most importantly, it is God that said, “Go!, Be excited and share my love with all!”

“Yes”, friend, you did miss something!!!! But, it wasn’t your fault because I held it a secret, in a sacred, holy kind of way, on purpose. I simply cherished keeping it all close to my heart as we allowed love to seal the deal!!!

BUT, this gift, in Melissa Gray Tom, is so unbelievably astounding you and everybody else need to know! She is simply lovely; a beautiful woman, with a compassionate heart for Christ and raising an incredible family (Katherine, Madelyn (twin 7 year old girls and a 4 year old son, Samuel) alongisde her husband, Sammy Tom.

And to think, she is part MINE!! (Of course, I know I have to share her with others; there are many many others that love this beautiful lady BIG! 🙂 )

So here it is – I’m incredibly blessed to share that in December 2016, I was lovingly reunited with the daughter I placed for adoption 35 years ago. For the past 18 months we have been opening up our hearts to one another and learning to do life together!!! David and Brooke are totally in love too and because of that our family has doubled and then some in size !

Rest with that for awhile, I know it is a doozy. But undoubtedly, stay tuned. Over the next few months, I will be sharing God’s story of redemption and hope in a series of blogs capturing our journey thus far!

Next Month – A Christmas Coffee

Pray with me:

Heavenly Father,

We are so grateful for your promises of redemption. Thank you for loving me enough to forgive me of my sin and the in return, instead of punishment, you bless me ten-fold. It is through you we can do hard things and conquer situations that could hurt. Thank you for the gift of the Holy Spirit that lives inside each of us, so that we can better walk in your ways – ways that lead to healing and love and light. We offer praise and thanksgiving to you, Lord,

In your precious names, Jesus we pray these things.

Moving from Grief to Grace …

Published on February 3, 2017February 3, 2017 by ElizabethLeave a comment

About a year ago, I met Susan B. Mead.

Susan B Mead

Quickly, I was captivated by her outgoing and gregarious personality. Humor sparkled just about every sentence she spoke and a smile grew across her cheeks constantly!

We were gathered together, along with some other ladies for a work session and work we did do! Susan is smart and she was charged with and eagerly shared her professional experiences concerning writing, public speaking and internet blogging. I was all ears and leaned in to receive what she had to say.

Truly, I enjoyed our time of learning that had been laced with laughter!

Indeed, Susan provided a wealth of knowledge I needed.

As our session drew to a close I scooped up my notes, packed away my computer equipment and began to say my goodbyes.

And, that is when this organized exchange of ideas suddenly shifted to a time of inspiration and appreciation!

The last few minutes of time spent at the gathering allowed for more intimate conversations. The attendees mingled with one another and met on a more personal note.

It was then, I learned that Susan and I shared the same painful loss. For her, it was a beloved 21 year old son whose life was lost to a lethal combination of drugs and alcohol. In turn, I exposed the circumstances surrounding the loss of Samantha, my precious 12 year old daughter.

We agreed, the death of a child, regardless of how it happens just plain HURTS!!!!!!!

Thankfully our conversation didn’t end there. Instead, I poised myself as the learner and listener again, leaning in to receive what Susan had to say. She was further into the painstaking ping pong process of lamenting and living. As well, I figured I could use a tip or two about how to go on.

No longer did her language focus on web page clicks and FB friends.

Instead, her previous instructive tone turned into exuberance as she sang the praises of her Savior, glorifying the God who had saved her from the dark depths of grief and despair!

Her testament was real! She spoke of anguish and heartache! But excitement and a sense of awe overcame her as she extolled the saving grace and mercy she received from Jesus Christ.

I invite you to hear the same healing message as I did on that day!

Be blessed, allow yourself to be carried and let peace prevail as you read Susan B Mead’s devotional –

Moving From Grief to Grace

Susan Mead

March 31, 2015

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” Psalm 147:3 (NIV)

Grief hits each one of us and can come from so many different directions.

A romantic relationship gone awry. The loss of a cherished friendship. A puppy put down. Empty arms and a broken heart due to abortion. Infertility. Abuse. The death of a loved one.

Dreams with a hope and future dashed in an instant. I know. I’ve lived it, too.

A phone call changed my hopes and future as Matt, my older son, wailed into the phone about my younger son, “Kyle died last night!”

– See more at: http://proverbs31.org/devotions/devo/moving-from-grief-to-grace/#sthash.gpXF27IO.dpuf

Today, Susan’s high spirit and happy heart are offer hope and healing to all who are hurting!

Thank you Gracious God for your everlasting promise to move us from grief to grace!

Meeting God at the Guild

Published on January 19, 2017January 23, 2017 by Elizabeth1 Comment

scwg

The Southern Christian’s Writer’s Guild meets monthly at Mandeville City Hall. The group’s mission is “Writing to Honor God.” Their enthusiasm is rooted in 1 John 1:4:

“Our motive for writing is simply this: We want you to enjoy this, too.”

The Message Bible

Never in a million years did I think I could, I would become one of it’s members. (I think it was the word “Guild” that got me going) However, about six months ago, I sent in the required registration fee. Since then and even before I became a paying part of this organization, I have attended almost every meeting.

Being new to the craft of writing, the advice, experience and encouragement the group offers is extremely beneficial. The scheduled guests speakers are always engaging and their stories have proven to be interesting. Meeting published authors is inspiring and hearing how their written words went from private to public propels me to remain committed to my personal literary projects. As well, sharing stories of struggle with fellow newbies like myself serves to let me know I am not alone.

Yes, gathering with this group of learned and lettered book worms has been a good thing, my writing has been challenged and critiqued, friendships have been formed and tips and tricks of the trade have been revealed to me.

However, at this month’s meeting instead of learning something new concerning publishing, I left with something exceedingly more valuable. I left with the power of a testimony!

Lisa Maggio’s story of a harrowing horse ride followed by miraculous healing awed and amazed me. So much, I knew I needed to share!

So here it is! Be blessed as you receive what Lisa has to say!

Lisa is an author, a dancer, and a public speaker. But, most importantly she is a compassionate Christian. Visit Lisa on her website, DancingAsOne.com.

Oh, and by the way. the SCWG is an open entity that welcomes Christian writers of all genres. The Guild meets on the second Saturday of every month at Mandeville City Hall, located at 3101 East Causeway Approach, Mandeville, LA. 70448.

If you feel called to connect with others concerning the craft of writing, please attend the next meeting, February 10th, 10 – 12.

And, who knows in addition to hearing helpful hints, you might leave with the power of testimony tucked in your heart!

From a Woman Who Never Thought She’d Smile Again …

Published on November 11, 2016November 11, 2016 by Elizabeth9 Comments

Finally, it is time to explain my experience with the 10th scripture in this series. As with all the others I have written about, it served as guidance and inspiration to go on. The promise that it offered simply could not be ignored. I craved the professed outcome; hoped every word written would come to pass.

Blogging for two months about scriptures that saw me through a season of trauma has caused me and likewise, those that read and rely on “Just Do Today” to walk through, to be drug through the hard stuff of life.

I have bared my fears, my struggles and my sorrows, the range of emotions that plagued my broken heart. It is absolutely true, I was driven to my knees and was brought to a fetal position on the floor as I suffered through a season of suffering. What I wrote about was real, it happened and it was hard.

I have tried to share the many coping skills and spiritual solutions required to stand up against the darkness that threatened to overtake me. Sometimes, I had to power up and push through, other times I had to sit still and trust. Sometimes the onus that was placed upon me was to simply be OK with not being OK, hoping one day things would be different. Certainly, my patience and perseverance were put to the test.

In each of these situations, the scriptures served as a weapon to fight off weariness, a tool to tame my emotions. As well, God’s Holy Writ provided a structured way to think, so that I knew better than to give up. Today, I am ever so grateful for the many passages that served to soothe me, sustain me and to strengthen me.

However, none of the passages in the series, so far have said anything about cheerfulness, joviality or having joy.

Sometimes, in the darkest of moments, I found myself asking, “Why fight so hard, when there isn’t much to look forward to?”

And, that is what why this last scripture in the series was so vital to my recovery.

When I read Psalms 30:11:

“You tuned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy.”

I knew that things would change. I wasn’t sure when a transformation would take place, nor what it would look like when it did. As well, would it be a sudden “something” or another process that extended over a long period of time.

I had no way of knowing any of the particulars, all I could do was trust in the promise!

On the days, I wanted to throw in the towel because, I thought the rest of my life wasn’t worth living, I prodded myself to adopt a different stance.

Chopping the negativity at the knees, I scolded my sour thoughts with truth of Christ, “Elizabeth, if Jesus says one day life will be good again, you need to go along with it.”

So, every time I caught myself thinking about my life being scarred my loss, I gently reminded myself that The Great Healer says it doesn’t need to happen that way.

Instead, out of sheer love and grace, He promised to pull back the veil of sadness and grief so that I could once again experience love and laughter and life experiences that brought sincere fulfillment.

As I said before, I desperately wanted this lighter sense of self. So, I forced myself to believe I would get better.

But the truth is, in the scripture Jesus stated my life would be better than just satisfactory.

He foretold of a time rather than just getting by, my life experience would be pretty darn good. Promising that one day I would be recovered enough to joyfully tap my toes and twirl around!

There were days I never thought this possible! For weeks I walked around with a scowl and a frown. Months passed by when I thought I would never smile again. And years, came and went when I thought all I would do is exist.

But then! In all His goodness, with grace that covered me like dew in the dawn of a new day, God delivered on His promise …

dancing

On a special night of celebration, in July of this year, I found myself, out on the dance floor with my adorable daughter!

Yes, I got out there in the crowd and the excitement of the moment and for a few seconds, I shook off all the sadness and layers of despair. For the moment, my wailing had turned to dancing, my mourning rags had been ripped away and I was clothed in absolutely JOY!

For a mom who didn’t think she would ever smile again, I think this is pretty darn good!

Surely, I don’t always feel THIS great nor does delight define each of my days.

But, I am thankful to say, I think I have come a long way…………

Almighty God,

I give you all the glory for this very special snapshot!!! Thank you for this moment and this memory! Thank you for promises that pulled me through and for making good on what you said you would do. As well, I wait expectantly for the abundant living yet to come.

Amen

Subscribe here so this special series will be delivered directly to your inbox!

Trauma … Take Two

Published on September 1, 2016September 2, 2016 by Elizabeth6 Comments

cinema clipboard 1

“PTSD from Katrina kicking in, smells that you can never imagine. Every house has lost everything including at least 2 cars. Y’all pray for Louisiana!!!

When I saw this Facebook status posted alongside a photo of piled up debris, I knew I wasn’t the only one sliding backwards.

For so many affected by the recent floods in the Baton Rouge/Lafayette area, this current cataclysmic event is a flashback to the aftermath of some other natural disaster experienced or overwhelming sense of loss incurred. Whether it is the smell of sweltering garbage, the reality of all of your belongings stacked in a heap on the curb in front of your house, the loss of a loved one to the raging flood waters or possible even a beloved pet, the triggers all point to the same underlying issue.

TRAUMA – an emotional response to a terrible event like an accident or natural disaster. A traumatic event or situation creates psychological trauma when it overwhelms the individual’s ability to cope.

water rescue Would it be surprising to know that the above list didn’t do it for me? Rather, it was the process of saving the people and the water recovery that sent me reeling backwards. The scenes of boats racing over the water, men in life jackets intent on rescue and helicopters overhead that pulled me to a painful place. The scenes were so familiar and carried a past so stressful that it felt like a smoldering piece of metal piercing my heart every time I saw a picture.

Physical symptoms of distress began to manifest as tears trickled down my cheeks while out for a walk, I noticed myself upset and unsettled in the evenings when it was time to relax and I began waking up in the wee hours of the morning because my mind was racing with thoughts. The third time I confessed to David, “I feel like tears are filling my ears and a bulge of emotions is blocking my throat.” I knew I needed to stop with the activity and devote some time to myself.

It was then, in the stillness of assessing what was messing with my head and in turn twisting my heart that a light was shown on what I was going through. I realized something happening in my current environment was causing me to look backwards, to revisit, to relive, to revive an extraordinarily painful time in my life.

ptss

Oh, and I was guilty of “going there” and walking in defeat for a few days. I withdrew from helping with relief efforts out of sheer self-protection. I sought refuge from the chaos by seeking calm environments. Honestly, being in the disarray of recovery mixed me up mentally. As well, reopened an emotional wound I would rather leave untouched. My empathy overflowed at the overwhelming sense of loss that so many are experiencing to the point I couldn’t concentrate. I know what it feels like to have your life turned upside down and scattered like a 10,000 piece puzzle.

Truly, being amidst the shambles was causing me to stumble.

(I wish I could say it isn’t so, that I’m stronger than that, that I can handle any situation that comes my way. Instead, I’m realizing I can’t. Nor, am I called, too. )

So, in an effort to find my way out of the slimy pit that I sunk into, I began to pay attention to myself and worked to mentally challenge the triggers. I made a concerted effort to turn off the memories that possessed the potential to wreck my well-being. As I used the tools in my trauma toolbox to help me cope, room was made in my mind to remember what served to save me during my personal season of trauma.

Yes, during that time God showed up in miraculous ways on numerous days, but it was His Word that carried me through the tedious times. When fear, anxiety, stress, and uncertainty arose (symptoms of PTSS) I recited, chanted, sung, wrote, read and clung to God’s written word, knowing that through it He shares His wisdom with us, that He teaches us the perspective He wants us to adopt and that He states the promises we can trust in.

Sams Bible

The longer I sat, the more grateful I became for the time and foresight to regain my composure. As I rested, a sense of urgency swelled inside of me to reread the scriptures that were earmarked with a sticky note in Samantha’s Bible. The ones that I had repeated over and over, the ones I read then implemented in my own life, the ones I trusted in, the ones that encouraged me to take another step and the ones that promised a fruitful future after profound loss.

Ahhhh, rest, renewal and reassurance soothed my heart. Words that served to revive me before where breathing life into me again. Text that brought dominion and order over this world were doing it again. Passages that promised God’s presence and offered hope were pouring into my spirit again.

Yes, God’s Word had gotten me through a season of personal trauma. And, it was doing it again!

I invite you to journey with me over the next few weeks as I share ten scriptures that serve to sustain me. Along, with how, when, where and why they work for me. Whether it is past or present circumstances doesn’t make a difference. What is important to remember is God’s Word is living and actionable in all situations and it works!

Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”

Matthew 4:4

To the Jews who had believed him, Jesus said, “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”

John 8:31-32

Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock.

Matthew 7:24

Subscribe here so this special series will be delivered directly to your inbox!

What I’ve Been Reading

Published on August 11, 2016August 22, 2016 by Elizabeth3 Comments

lizs-library

“Elizabeth, you need to read this book!” my friend exclaimed.

“Ok!” I replied, showing my openness to be inspired.

“The story is about a family from Bogalusa, LA, right here, in our own backyard,” my friend continued as she bobbled the book in front of my face. Her jerky movements were meant to get my attention and keep me engaged.

“Elizabeth, you know how this story came into print?” she asked pinching her voice to make a point. I rounded my lips to respond, but didn’t have enough time for a sound to form.

In a split second, I realized my friend had no intention of hearing from me. Instead, she was determined to move her end of the conversation forward and motivate me.

“Rebecca, the author of the book was sharing her story during a Bible Study. The people in attendance were so moved by what they heard they convinced her to write the story down. Elizabeth, God took it from there, leading Rebecca on a path to get it published,” she added.

“You know, the same thing is going to happen to you!” she punctuated her words with firmness.

I nodded my head to let her know I was listening. As well, I received her words of encouragement because I needed them. I am beginning to learn there is nothing easy about publishing a book. Besides the writing process that is required, there is a social media platform that must be built (YUCK!) and many rejection letters to be received before finding the right publisher, all of which have stretched me beyond myself.

However, anything that I am feeling in the department of discomfort pales in comparison to what Rebecca and her family were called to endure. As I read, The Devil in Pew Number Seven, I was reminded of the pain Christians are often time called to endure. Surely, the Nichols family suffered their fair share. Often times when reading, I thought more than what they could possibly handle. Fear, persecution and feeling hated played a part in their journey. They were constantly harassed, bombs were set off near their home and a broken glass window pane shattered on top of their newborn son.

As difficult as it was to read, God’s grace in the lives of these people was ever present. Rebecca is honest about the scars that are left on her family. However, she doesn’t park herself there and hang onto the pain that was inflicted on her nor, the family she loved.

Instead, she moves past the affliction and learns how to forgive. She isn’t shy about sharing the struggles. However her ending emphasis is one of deliverance. Ultimately, she shares a story of survival. Therefore, allowing her readers to tag along with her as she breaks the chains of trauma, allowing her to live a life of freedom.

If you can imagine, when I turned the last page, I found a gentle smile on my face.

Oh, yes I ached on the inside and my empathy was in over drive!

However, the message that I walked away with is Forgiveness is the Answer to Freedom. In the end, Rebecca’s faith allowed her to heal after living through a season of scarring. Then as the years past, she was led to a place of peace about what had happened.

On top of that, she took the time to write down her experience so that another person could glean from the wisdom she gained, be inspired by her perseverance and to illustrate an example that faith in Jesus Christ works.

Thank you Rebecca for showing me how it is done. You made yourself vulnerable and for that I appreciate you. You kept my eyes on the cross as you walked me through your crisis. As well, you showered me with hope, love and faith all the way to the end.

A few days later, during a quick phone call my precious yet pesky friend asked “And, how did you like the book?” “It was unbelievable and reading it was good for so many reasons,” I started my response. Quickly sucking air through my nostrils, I readied myself to unleash all that I reaped by reading Rebecca’s book. Unlike our last conversation, this time I had plenty to say. “You were right,” I confirmed to my loving phone caller. “Reading her story inspires me! Seeing her story in printed form lets me know publishing can happen for little ole’ me living in Mandeville and her faith journey has nourished the hope inside of my heart.” I added.

Before we hung up, I ended our conversation with,”You know, it is my prayer, that one day I could touch as many lives as Rebecca has.”

Here’s to hoping Sam was Here … (my proposed book title) will be used in the same way.”

Be blessed as you read this book:

The Devil in Pew Number Seven

Dear Lord,

Guide me as I try to do the same good work as Rebecca. I know, just as she does, that you are present in all things and that what occurs in our lives will be worked for good. Help me as I work to record your presence in the middle of my mayhem. Possess my writing so that my words are interesting, easily understood and carry your message of healing. I ask that you open doors wide so that I can step through them. I ask that you lead me to the places, to the people and to the publisher that are waiting for me to arrive, so that together we can send forth your message of hope.

Amen

I’m Ready for the Red Ink

Published on May 19, 2016August 22, 2016 by Elizabeth5 Comments

Almost a year to the date, I’m done. Today, I reread the last chapter for the final time before I ask others to slash and insert, rearrange and make suggestions to this project I have been working on. Relieved of their proofreading duties, David and Brooke eagerly agreed, ” Mom, the first draft is a done deal.”

“Elizabeth, you need to write a book” was the statement that got me started. Knowing I had a lot to say, but with no skill, nor knowledge about how to get started, I opened my word processor to a blank sheet and simply tapped the keyboard to type out “Chapter One.” Spilling my guts on the subsequent pages has kept me busy for the past twelve months. Dedicating a large portion of each workday has made this process seem like a part time job. Yet again, employment with no paycheck. I thank Jesus for an encouraging and supportive husband.

During some of my work weeks, thoughts and memories flowed freely filling the empty pages at a rapid rate. On other days, it was a chore to string the sentences together that conveyed my deepest sentiments. Wrangled with how to express the depths of emotions and the gravity of what I felt created frustration and pulsating urges to abandon my writing assignment. “David, I can’t do this. I don’t know the right words to use. This is going to take forever. Trying to write this book is a waste of time. I should just go back to work.” were excuses I raised to try and wiggle out of my responsibility.

I wasn’t prepared for the time, nor committment it would take. I had no idea what it would look like when it was done, nor how long it would take. The uncertainty of it all made it extremely difficult to remain dedicated. When I thought to far ahead, about what was left to accomplish, I welcomed anxiety into my workplace. Thankfully, during the first few months I honed another method of attack. Simply put, I pressed in and wrote the next word, organized the next paragraph, pulled together the next message and brought each chapter to a close.

As I reviewed the scenes in my life and recaptured what I remembered, along with what I thought memorable, I often wondered, “Who is going to be interested in what I have to say? About what happened to me?” When doubt about what I was doing crept from the corners of my desk, Martina McBride’s lyrics from “Anyway” would inspire me to type away ….

You can pour your soul out singing
A song you believe in
That tomorrow they’ll forget you ever sang
Sing it anyway
Yeah, sing it anyway
I sing, I dream, I love
Anyway

These words resonated with me and with what I was attempting. Martina’s musical message chased away my skepticism and thwarted my attempts to jump ship. Instead, I placed myself in her lyrical story and belted out my own battlesong, ” Whether anybody ever reads it, write it anyway.” Applying the freeing concept helped me focus and remain at my writing station. Who knows what the final outcome will be? Will a publisher deem my story worthy to print? Or, will what I have written only sit on my bookshelf? I don’t know the answer to that. All I know to do is try, trust and take the next step.

People can be more creative and productive when they take the space...: It is a good thing I wasn’t aware of the hours of isolation that would be required to complete this task. Needless to say, I may have never started. Early on, I discovered it was essential to detach myself from the hustle and bustle of everyday life to get this job done. Too many distractions, invitations and temptations came my way when I was socially engaged with the world. In order to write about a personal experience, you have to research yourself. The only way I could hear and remain connected to that inward reflection was to withdraw to my inner self. I came to undestand that (somewhat) cutting myself off from society was the answer, but with that came stretchs of silence. When loneliness set in, I pondered Picasso’s words of wisdom and went back to work.

Now, that my heart and soul is poured out on a stack of papers, I am gearing up for the next step in this process. Experienced authors have told me it is more grueling than writing the book. “Well, a Book Proposal, a Query letter, and a public platform will need to be developed before you can even think about approaching a publisher.” they forewarn. Continuing with their intimidating tirade, they suggest “Oh you might need to hire an agent and its best to have an editor read your work.” Adding to the upcoming angst, I don’t know if what I have written even makes sense. A year later, I can’t remember what I wrote!

As they speak of these roadblocks and I entertain judgement by others, my attitude tends to take a tumble, which makes me to want to stop in my tracks and throw in the towel. “I don’t have to be an author. I don’t need this to be a published book.” I cry out to try and careen myself off course. “Oh no, Elizabeth. Go get started. This is simply the next step.” David will counter and steer me on course again. I know he is right. Marching back to my office, I cringe and push against the work that is ahead.

Reseated in my desk chair and having blown off some steam, I try to remember what first inspired me to get started. Sure, there were encouraging comments from people that attached worth to what I had experienced and what I had to say. Their observations and opinions opened my heart up and allowed God to reveal to me that my mess could become my message. That is good and just motivation and served to carry the writing process to completion. However, not enough to see me through this next step. I am weary and know I need a stronger nudge to kick start this second phase. So, I look to the scriptures for purpose and I have found what I am searching for:

Return to thine own house, and shew how great things God hath done unto thee. And he went his way, and published throughout the whole city how great things Jesus had done unto him.

Luke 8:39

But Jesus said, “No, go home to your family, and tell them everything the Lord has done for you and how merciful he has been.” So the man started off to visit the Ten Towns of that region and began to proclaim the great things Jesus had done for him; and everyone was amazed at what he told them.

Mark 5:19-20

But in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect,

Daniel 4:2

It is when I fix my focus on the cross that life begins to make sense. After breathing in the righteous reason for this project, I am reminded of my original objective-to simply record my personal journey from ache to alleluia. Glorifying God during my walk to restoration was effortless, as he was my trusted companion and mighty miracle worker along the way. His continued presence allows me to reflect and reopen a painful season in my life. In the hopes that intimately sharing my experience with Him will show others a holy way of recovery. As well, bring light and life to all the days ahead.

Leaning into this humbled reason for writing, I am strengthened to take the next step. If allowing others to edit what I have written, writing a lengthy detailed report aimed at captivating a publisher and highlighting the unique aspects of my story and networking with the public to build an author’s persona are what is required in today’s world to spread that message, then for the sake of Christ, I’m going to give it my best shot.

Alas, I have come accustomed to sitting in the quiet, allowing for long patches of stillness. Making it easier to hear the Holy Spirit and search through my own thoughts. Engaging in an attempt to sell by literary work and myself (publishers expect one to have a “following”, basically a built in audience prior to publishing their work!!!!! Lord you will need to lead the way on this one!!!!! ) are not activities that I look forward to. They are extremely out of my comfort zone. However, I’m going to continue to be led by the Lord, following the inspiration that first got me started and step out on that limber limb because I know that’s where the fruit is.

This next step is going to be a stretch for someone like me. As I reach forward inching away from what feels safe, I remind myself who has brought me to this point. Surely, He will accompany me the rest of the way.

14 Chapters, 67,573 words later, I am reinspired and ready for the red ink!

Community of Faith

Published on April 27, 2016August 22, 2016 by Elizabeth1 Comment

Suicide is not a sadness I have been called upon to endure. I haven’t earned the stripes to say, “I understand” to the grieving parent, sibling or friend who has lost a loved one to this devastating cause of death. Nor, have I had a family member dabble with drugs to the extent it ended their life. I don’t know what it feels like to lose someone I love to these maddening modes of death. Associated with each of these saddening scenarios is a unique blend of emotional scars, unexpected life changes and demands different levels of forgiveness. However, because of my firsthand experience with a similar piercing pain, I offer my most heartfelt and sincere prayers of comfort to all peoples, especially those here in my hometown that are dealing with these caustic situations at present. May you be blessed by Heaven’s sweetest assurances.

This time, I watch from a ringside seat. Not directly involved in the disastrous set of circumstances. My stint of being in the brutal boxer’s ring has come and gone. Nevertheless, because of past happenings I am well aware of what follows after a crisis rocks the fiber of an otherwise peaceful community. Sitting from the security of my desk chair, I can sense the inner chaos coursing through all of us affected. Causing us to grasp for answers to the why’s and what-if’s. The pain that punctures the souls of citizens when we lose three of our students is obvious in every Facebook post and personal conversation.

The anxiety that creeps into the thought processes of all those that are aware are on display as we try to understand and get a handle on the harrow that drives a child to act out in such harmful ways. Everyone grasping for preventative measures so that our young people aren’t at risk to act on their overwhelming emotions with life altering actions or take a hit of some abusive substance to escape reality; or worse yet, as a wicked form of entertainment. A lack of physical involvement in the aftermath of tragedy doesn’t lessen the ache for those of us acting as bystanders. We grieve alongside you as we witness your outcry. We join you in your efforts to enlighten our children and uplift our neighborhoods. You might not be able to see us, but know we stand with you during these difficult times.

This topic of care and love that weaves its tender tentacles throughout our sleepy little town has tumbled in my heart for some time. For I was once comforted by my neighbors, fellow school moms, church family, close friends and concerned strangers. Acknowledging Community of Faith Blog 2 my position of need wasn’t natural. We humans tend to shrink and turn inward when we hurt. Thinking to allow and accept help is a sign of weakness. Sometimes, vulnerability makes us uncomfortable and we don’t allow people in. Thankfully, many many persons pushed past my awkwardness and made their loving presence known. Not allowing me to embark on the lonely journey of recovering on my own. The channels of communication where varied; cards, letters, emails, tender comments, flowers on my front porch, an extra hug or a hot meal. Prayers, poems and spiritual support found their way to me when I couldn’t find comfort on my own. Memorials and remembrance services were setup, people took time out of their schedules to show up and offered their personal support. These healing messages and tokens of thoughtfulness expressed in so many different ways encouraged me to carry on. Without them my path to peace would have been much more cumbersome. Each act of kindness tossed off a heavy stone of burden.

Guilt often riddled my emotions when I thought about properly acknowledging all that was bestowed upon me. There were no adequate words to express the depths of my gratitude. Nor, was it possible to accomplish the gargantuan effort required to reach all that responded to my needs. So, today I journal to record my thank yous to each and every person that extended themselves in any way on my behalf and on behalf of my family. Your loving support was silently appreciated. What you had to say mattered, what you did made a difference and your prayers of comfort and peace straightened my back bent with heartbreak. I appreciate and will forever hold dear your abundant outpouring of love.

Almost five years later, I see our community being stirred again. Waves of tragedy have pushed through the calm waters of our steadfast families. Causing our awareness to heighten and propelling us to respond. Witnessing the current upheaval in our community triggers memories to flood my mind. Tempting me to retrace a painful trail in my life. These local losses have touched one of my own, stirring within my daughter a deep and distracting sense of sadness. So much, that she placed a teary call to share her heavy heart. Confused by her own reaction she sniffled her way through her sentiments, “Mom, I just feel like my soul has been shredded these past few days. I just know how bad it hurts.” I responded as gently as I could, “Of course your heart hurts. It’s called compassion and it is causing you to mourn your own loss again. ”

With these uneasy feelings creeping around me, I can’t help by let my thoughts wander to the scriptures for wisdom when I am seeking to dispell the shadows lengthening around me. I’ve learned I have to work against the forces that turn my thinking away from the goodness of Christ. Therefore, in anticipation I go to God’s word to show me the light; the better way of thinking, of reacting, of behaving. I find words that speak to me as I thumb through Matthew, 1 Thessalonians and The Book of Galatians:

“Teacher, what is the greatest commandment in the Law?” And he said to him, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.”

Matthew 22:36-40

Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.

Galatians 6:2

Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.

1 Thessalonians 5:11

Rather than letting triggers take control and drive me downwards, I lift my eyes and see the good works of those that I live close to. People creating prayer chains to hang in school hallways, worship services being held to guide young adults to bring their grief before God, principals who pray and lift the needs of their students on a weekly basis, pastors visiting schools and Community of Faith blog groups gathering to openly address the issues of mental health, students responding with palpable support for families they care about, coaches setting aside strenuous practices to allow for athletes to process the loss and pull together as a team. I have limited knowledge to the details surrounding the situation but, it is my guess that the outpouring of faith and love is brimming in the inner circles of those personally touched. I am confident it is happening, for I once experienced it myself. I know you are there.

This is where I stop, reflect on what is going on around me and measure my community with an eternal yardstick. Asking of myself what would Jesus think about all that is going on? Looking down on the tranquil setting of the Northshore of Louisiana would his heart be moved by the reactions of the people that live there? Minutes pass as I sit and ponder this scenario. My window is open, the birds call to one another and every so often I am kissed with a gentle breeze. In this stilled setting, I can imagine an echoing shout from above, “Hey guys! Yes, you are getting it right! This is how I want you to respond to one another. Love each other through the trials of life. Lavish grace and mercy, compassion and care on your neighbors as I have taught you, especially when hearts are heavy. Lead people to me when they hurt and help them to find their way to the path of restoration I have laid out.” Sitting on the fringes, I can see His call being carried out. Is there always more we can do? Absolutely! More glory, more worship, more praise, more trust, more witness, more love would always please our Heavenly Father. However, I don’t think that discounts what is being done. Our community is once again responding to a tragedy with traits characteristic of Jesus and that is a beautiful thing.

After being the recipient of such outlandish love and concerned reactions myself, I wondered how many people reacted the way they did because they knew Christ. Or, were their actions offered out of innate kindness and a genetically engineered tender heart? In honesty, I believe the first statement carries more truth than the second. This ability to be intuned to the Holy Spirit has been poured out on humanity. A spiritual radar; so to speak . This spirit is the essence of self that moves us to behave in a holy way. When we act in love, with compassion, show care, extend forgiveness, offer mercy and pray about another person’s ache we are acting like Jesus. And, based on what I know that is how this community responds to a crisis. Tucked underneath our busy lives of practice sessions and afternoon lessons is a community of faith. A web of people connected through school carpools and weekend soccer games that collective believe in Christ. Oh, we attend different places of worship and align ourselves with varying denominations. However, we all direct our attention and adoration to the same Saviour.

Sometimes that strong undergirding doesn’t shine through our hectic schedules of work and play. Often times, we don’t openly talk about our faith during halftime of a high school football game or after enjoying a tennis match. Blessings and miracles aren’t the main topic discussed during lunch. Jesus isn’t introduced during gym sessions, nor in between power reps. However, at a time of crisis this spirit of compassion and quest to aid those in need certainly breaks forth and builds a safety net for our next door neighbors that are hard pressed. Spiritual strength is shared while waiting for children at the bus stop and when we end our evenings visiting with neighbors in the driveway. Warm meals are delivered and closing thoughts for the day lift the needs of others.

Let us continue with this sacred way of living, not only responding when we are made aware of suffering, but let Christ rise and be the very fiber of our lives. Forging loving bonds between us that are evident when our worlds are sweet and serene and overpowering during times of difficulty. May God be at the center of every dance lesson and in every sports huddle; welcomed in every meeting and called upon at the start of every performance. May His name rise from our voices as we work together to build upon what is already going on. Let’s not lose momentum when life gets easy. Instead, let’s come together and continue this journey to Christ, leading our children along the way. Strengthening the number of believers that possess the faith muscles to move mountains for one another.

I know this exists because I have felt the power it has to offer. An incredible force converged on me during my time of need. Your unity of faith lifted me from my knees and helped me walk again. May we always respond with such Christ centered valor when the call to rise and react is placed upon us. As well, when we walk along peaceful paths Therefore, weaving holy connections that glorify our God and bring hope into our lives.

By doing this we will strengthen, widen and enrich our …. Community of Faith.

Another Attempt

Published on July 13, 2015August 22, 2016 by Elizabeth6 Comments

There isn’t an inkling inside of me to be an author. Maybe, that’s why this is so hard to start and stick with. Prior to the last four years of my life, I haven’t ever felt a soulful satisfaction to put pen to paper and share what’s inside of me, exposing events that have occured, revealing reactions to certain situations and sharing the stirrings of my heart. In fact, those words, expose, reveal and share cause a portion of myself to shut down. Upon hearing them, my first instinct is the fight or flight syndrome. Not being much of a fighter, the flight mode usually ensures an escape route to a secure setting. Causing me to shy away from any venue that would introduce vulnerability. (Presently, I’m working on myself to adjust this reaction. Refusing to run away. Instead, choosing to stand not in my own strength, but relying on His instead.)

But, after 25 years of adult self-diagnosis, I’m learning part of this is simply how I was created. My personality traits were recently validated when I read the book, Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by, Susan Cain. Can you believe that title tantalized my thinking? Oh, but it did! (I’ve always known I was a wallflower, I’m learning to like it!) I saw myself in statements like, “They are the ones that prefer listening to speaking; who innovate and create but dislike self-promotion. Who favor working on their own over working in teams.” Again, I could relate to thoughts like, “Innies, they are the ones who find joy in doing their own thing, prefer a book rather than joining a party or think monastic silence is bliss. There is no longer any need to feel quilty or like we are oddballs because of our preferences.” While reading, I nodded in agreement with what was written and found kindred companionship with the people descibed on the pages. “I wasn’t alone.” “There are others like me.” These were freeing thoughts that allowed me to better understand myself.

Engaging in the next episode, does not conjure up feelings of comfort. I know it will prevent me from staying in those safe spots. What it will entail and the possible outcome creates a scenario of uncetainity, uneasiness and the unkown. Feelings of anxiety, fear and possible failure stare me down like a viper ready to strike with its paralytic poison. Preventing me from pressing in, to finish what is before me.

Honestly, the grueling work has been done, suffering the loss of Samantha, grinding through the grief, healing because of a Holy helping hand and eventually reincorporation into the earthly world. What is left is really no big deal!!!! All that needs to be done is weave it all together to tell a story and then simply write it down.

It sounds so simple. But, I struggle to start and stay focused. The deep dive into the unknown creates a barbed wire barrier. I allow the feeling, that I don’t know what I’m doing, and that I’m being unproductive torment me. Causing me to start then stop. I have tried before and been derailed by my own demons. Run right off course, when I rely on myself.

In addition, I know there will be details to the drama that I haven’t dealth with yet. Questions that I have avoided because I can exist without uncovering the answers. Recordings I haven’t listened to. Afraid of what I will hear. The biting words of a little girl missing echoed throughtout the media. The how and when certain things were discovered and in what condition they were in. Situations such as these are easily ignored because of the painful prodding into the reality of it all. Nonetheless, facts that need to be addressed in order to set the stage. They may not all get included but, I feel like I needed to know what I’m writing about. As I begin to delve deepeer into the parts that I haven’t picked apart, I feel the bandage over my broken heart taughten to deflect these painfullyl pointed truths.

Today, I realize, it will be necessary for me to look beyond myself, past the borders of what is safe and secure. Casting my vision over the feelings of inadequacy, to right where He is. Completely expecting to be equipped to handle the erruption of what has been submerged. Not pushing myself. In contrast, allowing myself to be led “to” and “through” it all.

After being isolated for so long, I thought reengaging with the world was a good thing. Partaking in two part time jobs, volunteering in different venues, being a wife, mother, aunt and sister, neighbor and friend all had benefits. They all kept me busy. Hours well spent but, some of what I was doing was simply a distraction. Not that it didn’t serve its purpose. Reconnecting with society did show me healing had occurred and that I could be a shell of my former self. But, in reality what had happened was I had become engrossed in the details of everyday life; living but not being led. Surrounding myself with tasks and todo’s that interfered with sitting still and spending time with my Savior.

I have know for quite a while, what was necessary. That is, relinquishing some of my responsibilities in order to promote relaxation within. Severing the sense of security that is a byproduct of compartmentalized committments. It felt good to rely on the rhythm of each day; wake up, work, return home, rest and repeat. Oh and by the way, I was earning an income. After completing employment in the nonpaid position of “stay at home mom” for 19 years, it felt good to get a paycheck printed with my name on it. For any woman that can relate, who walked away from a career to concentrate on raising her children, returning to the workforce has the potential to be empowering to the point of intoxication.

Certainly, I had carved out a life that hindered the Holy Spirit. Working at an upscale boutique, I allowed myself to be infatuated with the sacred stitches of designer duds. Don’t get me wrong, the clothes themselves weren’t the bad things. Nor, my place of employment. I worked alongside spiritual soulmates and assisted incredible women. Instead, what went wrong was what crept into my conscience. I allowed myself, even if just slightly, to be absorbed by my surroundings. Everything was beautiful and I allowed it to grab my attention. At the time, I didn’t mind it !!! As a matter of fact, I was enjoying the earthly entanglements.

Not having the ability to silence the Holy Spirit; I could only stuff down so much. I knew what I was doing was in essence disobedient. God no more wanted me wrapped up in the world. Picking and choosing for myself rather than placing myself in a position of purpose was not pleasing to Him. My attention to Him and the telling of His story had been usurped by the attraction of what the world had to offer. The hours of complete quiet that promoted a profound connection had disappeared into the daily grind.

My immediate family witnessed this new pattern of self protection. All along, in disagreement with this way of life. David, constantly inquiring, “Elizabeth, when is something going to give? Nearest and dearest to my heart, they were the ones that prodded and poked me to return to my previous work. Able to see when I am in my element, better than myself. Their prickly encouragement is unwavering and unending. I’m grateful they haven’t become agitated to the point of giving up on me when I haven’t poured myself out in the right places.

No longer working two part time jobs, able to make my own schedule and carve out hours of quiet uninterrupted hours has allowed the Spirit to swell back into my soul, allowed my eyes to see the everlasting and my heart to ponder what is important. Afraid of being lonely, kept me connected. Walking away wasn’t easy but, it was necessary. Lessening my life load has increased the Almighty activity within. It is a good thing. Exactly, where I need to be.

So, I pick up where I left off. With no condemnation for being careened off course. Once again, it is time to attempt to gather the scattered half written stories and complete the scenarios. Fill in, with the chapters that need to be written and compile all of it into an organzied presentation of papers.

Embracing, that I don’t know what the end result will look like. Strangling the thoughts of anxiety that a single soul may never care to read what I have written and get back to the real work of my life.

Praying every step of the way that with each word written, I would hear His voice.

Pleading, that He strengthen my spirit so that nothing has the power to deter nor distract me.

Inspiring me, with ways to retell His story to touch others.

Finding peace, that he will do with the final project what He pleases.

Instilling, that no energy is required of me to figure out the future concerning, all of that….

Assuring me, all I need to do is write.

Believing, when He calls it complete and the bound book is placed into the hands of an open heart it will serve to strengthen someone’s Faith.

For her …. For Him.

Published on December 10, 2014August 22, 2016 by Elizabeth1 Comment

Each of my “off of work” days, allows me to take a few steps closer to JustDoToday.org, what it will be, who it will serve. Those are the days that are spent thinking, reflecting and remembering, finding ways to filter what is stored in my head and heart and then pouring that experience into other persons. I’m learning to leave those spaces open, without an agenda, so the task list can be created by someone greater than myself.

Lately, there are times when those that surround me push up against my surrender, lessening the importance of listening, wondering when I will do the next thing. Today, my “to-do” list blinks in the back left quadrant of my brain screaming to be sort and recorded and completed. As, there are terrifying yet, fulfilling steps upon me. However, I’m going to ignore that urge and instead, share a book I once read.

Circumstances in my community press upon me. A tragedy has occurred that stings the souls of some of those I do life with, as well as myself. “What do I do? What is the best way to help?” , “I just want to share with someone that knows.” are the string of texts that have been typed.

In those quiet hours of today, I stared at my bookshelf and knew what to share,

Angie Smith was eighteen weeks pregnant with her fourth daughter. Audrey Caroline, when her doctors discovered conditions leaving Audrey “incompatible with life.” Faced with the decision whether to terminate the pregnancy, Angie and her husband chose to carry Audrey for as long as she had life. This began what turned out to be three months of loving and carrying a little girl that was not expected to live more than a few minutes.

Beth Moore, best selling author and speaker, summarizes, “This is a beautiful and tender book that would touch any woman’s heart, no matter her age or realm of experience. It is about a relationship so intimate with God that it carves a safe place for crises of faith, for faith proved genuine, and for divine callings willed, sealed and fulfilled.”

Some of Angie’s thoughts tucked into my heart :

She doesn’t explicitly tell Him the solution (the story of Mary, Martha and Lazarus) she is looking for but rather states the problem and waits to see what He will do about it.

As I read their words, it occured to me that this is not the way I approach the Lord with a crisis. I run to Him with a laundry list of suitable responses and beg Him to accommodate me.

“Heal her heart, Lord.”

“Make her kidneys work.”

“Let her live.”

I am pretty comfortable saying He is in complete control until the ground grows weak beneath me. At that point I tell Him what He should do to fix it. While I know there isn’t anything wrong with asking God to intervene, there is a gentle surrender that I was drawn to in this story.

Recognize who He is – kyrios (the early Christians confessed Jesus Christ as their Lord, Master instead of emperor, derived from kyros, power might) – and tell Him the problem.

Leave the rest to Him.

As we will discover, there is always room for doubt wherever God has made a way for faith. Yet in this moment Mary and Martha simply called out to Him.

I sat, humbled, as many I love spoke wisdom over me, and I admitted to myself that I was going to need help to get through this season of life.

And so the rain fell, the wipers wiped, and the Lord listened, I let Him into a place I had never fully invited Him before. A place of communion where I could rest knowing He heard me. A place I would reside for months to come.

What an atrocious club to join.

People constantly ask me how it is that I am not angry with the Lord. My honest answer is that I have been angry, and I have been disappointed. What I have not been, and what I refuse to be, is disbelieving. However easy it may be to allow myself to wail over my loss, it is a far more satisfying thing to believe that all of this is a brief season. The Lord I have placed my trust in tells me that I will see my child again, and while He stands besides me, He weeps. He doesn’t weep at the barren ground, nor does He weep the browning branches. He cries because I can’t see what He can. And in the fluttering of the breeze, with my heart pressed to His, I can hear Him whisper, “Spring will come, my love.”

I was going to have to make some hard choices about my walk with Him. i couldn’t go on living it out the way I wanted to, the safe way. It was time for me to let down my hair, give it all away, and spend spreading word of the glorious riches with which He had blessed me. But she died right? She did. And to be truthful, I wish it handn’t been this way. As a Christian, I know that I am called to glorify the Lord no matter the circumstances, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to make sense.

He gives and takes away. Have I moments of genuine questioning where I blamed myself and anyone I could? Yes. But when those thoughts come, and they will, we must make a choice about who we will be from this day forward. Either we will go through life as bitter servants, or we will make Him famous with our love. I want Him to be famous!

Exclamation marks, underline and written thoughts are scored in the sidelines on just about every page. Remembering, as I read how many of Angie’s thoughts I shared and gaining wisdom through the others I hadn’t had. While searching for hope through the stories of scripture Angie reads the account of Lazarus, bringing a sweet balm to her hurting heart. Hence, she weaves her faith-filled story of Audrey Caroline with a biblical story about the truth of Heaven. By writing about what she experiences, Angie is helping us to understand how better to cope with loss and disappointment.