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Stumbling Over Jesus

Written by: Candy Thomas

~All scriptural quotations are taken from the NIV

As I was reading Luke 7:18-28, I became particularly intrigued by Jesus’ interaction with the disciples of John the Baptist. John, held in prison by Herod, sent his disciples to ask Jesus the following, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?” Luke 7:18.

Jesus, in their eyesight, performed the miracles of the Isaiah 61:1 Messianic prophecy. After quoting the scripture aloud, Jesus told them to go back and report to John all they had seen and heard. But Jesus added this caveat to His scriptural quotation, “… Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.” (vs. 23). I pondered why Jesus felt it necessary to add that comment, but I knew one thing for certain, Jesus never casually threw away His words. Jesus is the word made flesh and when He walked this earth, everything He both said and did had deep spiritual insight and purpose. I also knew that nothing any man ever said in His hearing slipped past Jesus. He knew both the spoken and unspoken secrets in the heart of every person.  

While sitting alone in that prison, John most likely thought carefully about what he wanted his disciples to say to Jesus for him. He didn’t choose to send them to make certain Jesus knew that he was being held a prisoner. Instead, he sent them on a rather odd inquisition to confirm Jesus’ identity AGAIN. I questioned why John did that. Before he was arrested, he had boldly declared Christ’s messianic assignment to a crowd and the only thing that had changed since then was his imprisonment. No doubt Jesus recognized that John even sending them to question something he already knew the answer to was telling in itself. But John’s adding, “or should we expect someone else?” to his unnecessary question about whether He was the one, had a much deeper implication. The sarcastic edge of those six words spoke to the condition of John’s heart as he sat languishing in that dank, dark prison. Jesus knew John very well.

They were not strangers. They were family…. cousins being only 6 months apart in age. No doubt, John knew Jesus well, also most likely having heard stories about Him his whole life from his mother and his entire family.  Those stories, telling all the many unusual events in Jesus’ life ranging back even before His birth, were probably repeated over and over at family gatherings. John had always known who Jesus was. He even gave a nonverbal testimony to the newly pregnant Mary while he was yet in his own mother Elizabeth’s womb that Jesus was surely the one.  

I acknowledge scripture is silent on details about Jesus and John’s familial relationship and I admit I may be reading between the lines but ……. I’m curious. Did John possibly ever struggle during his youth with all the fuss family made when it came to Jesus? I can only imagine the things John might have seen and heard as they grew up. I wonder what John thought about all the confusion that occurred the day Jesus wandered into the temple to discuss the scriptures with the experts of the law and was accidentally left behind by the family caravan. I can almost hear the reprimand of the family asking John how it was that he hadn’t kept track of his “special” younger cousin. What might John’s early life have been like if all his actions were constantly being compared to a sinless Jesus?

You may argue that I’m stretching too far with this train of thought but in my defense, I just want to make the point that John the Baptist lived a real life. He at times might also have occasionally felt insecure or unappreciated by his family because these kinds of feelings are normal for humans and happen in real people’s lives. Yes, yes, yes… John was powerfully called and perfectly anointed by the Spirit but he certainly wasn’t a perfect human. He was known by the crowds for his uniqueness and some curiosity seekers inevitably followed him purely for the spectacle. I don’t know if he was knowingly patterning himself after the prophet Elijah or if his eccentricity was possibly drawn out by a need to differentiate himself from the legalistic religious leaders of his day or maybe even from his own perfect cousin. Perhaps none of these things applied or contributed to who he was. 

In any event, neither his unusual fashion sense, weird diet or fiery persona mattered to Jesus. He well knew John’s heart and His opinion of him was unmoved by his reputation among the people. Jesus spoke supportively about John in Luke 7:28, calling him the greatest naturally born prophet of all time. Yet, almost in the same breath Jesus added, “he that is least in the kingdom of God is greater than he.” His statement reminded me of the scripture that says all sin and fall short of the glory of God. This undeniable truth is as applicable to today’s everyday Christian as it was to someone as anointed and purposed in God’s redemptive plan as John the Baptist.

God mightily used all our favorite biblical heroes but we must never forget they were still only flesh and blood. The sin nature inherited from Adam and Eve puts them, along with each of us, on a level playing field. Only Christ was sinless and not even the most powerfully anointed person can be declared righteous unless he or she is found in Christ. Not even John the Baptist who Jesus enthusiastically called, “the greatest prophet born of a woman,” would try to claim for himself a high place of worthiness in the kingdom of God.

This same John who proclaimed to the crowds that Jesus was, “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” later doubted his own proclamation. This John who baptized Jesus and experienced the miracle of the heavens being opened up and the Spirit of God descending like a dove upon Him according to Matthew 3:16-17, openly questioned the very truth he had been confident about his entire life.

This John who heard God speak as a voice out of the heavens, saying, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased,” suddenly needed additional confirmation. I doubt there was any other man alive at that time who knew more than he that Jesus was the one. God had sent John before Jesus as, “the voice crying out in the wilderness,” and John knew that his calling was “to prepare Christ’s way and make His paths straight.” (Isaiah 40:3). But the fiery furnace of persecution has always tested the souls of men and it is no stretch to consider it also tested John’s soul. The trial of his unfair imprisonment for speaking the truth about Herod likely played a part in him questioning what he already knew about Jesus. I can clearly picture John sitting there in prison as the days drug on, wondering why his powerful cousin hadn’t come to see or help him. After all the magnificent miracles he was hearing that Jesus performed, surely, He could have come into that prison and instantly delivered him, couldn’t He?

Maybe it matters little exactly what John was thinking or what led him to send his disciples on that last mission. What does matter is that his questions proved that he was just a man who needed a savior as much as any other sinner. The imperfection and need for salvation of this fiery prophet was made clear to all the moment he verbalized his insulting public question of doubt about Christ’s identity.

John, who had not too much earlier given bold testimony about Jesus, momentarily allowed the dark circumstances he was experiencing to cause him to stumble. He missed the opportunity to once more publicly recognize Jesus as the one they had all been waiting for, the Messiah.

Studying God’s word is so amazing! I love how God revealed the frailties as well as the strengths in the lives of the people He sovereignly chose to use for His glory. I also love how forgiving and gracious Christ’s response was to John’s challenging amnesia attack. Jesus provided indisputable evidence of His fulfillment of prophecy then sent a message back as subtle as the one He had received. He warned John that in order for him to expect or look for someone else he would first have to “stumble over” Him. I have no doubt that John instantly repented when Christ’s response reached him and his faith was fully restored. He realized he had completed his assignment and his part to play had come to an end. His prison sentence became the fulfillment of his prophecy to the people, “He must become greater. I must become less.” John 3:30. Not much longer after that John the Baptist’s life was brutally brought to an end at the young age of 30.

I’ve read this section of scripture numerous times but have never seen it in this light before. It was made crystal clear to me that if John the Baptist could stumble, so can any of us.

There is an old saying that familiarity breeds contempt. Sitting up on our lofty spiritual perch, it’s easy to accuse and dismiss unbelievers for stumbling over Jesus. They take offense of Him because they can’t get pass the familiarity of His humanity. They see it as a weakness because they can’t comprehend how or even why God would possibly cloth Himself in human flesh. They are blinded to the fact that the light of incarnation was God’s precise plan for redeeming man from the darkness of sin. Jesus was God made flesh so that He could die as a man in our place to satisfy our sin debt, raise Himself to life again for our justification and take the sting out of death. When unbelievers stumble over Christ’s deity and take offense, they disqualify themselves for the very salvation and eternal life He came to deliver.

But what about us? It is humbling to realize that if prison could result in someone as anointed as John the Baptist stumbling, we certainly must take care to watch our step. In unsettling times of tribulation, our faith can be tested in ways we may not anticipate. When a test goes deeper and longer than we want, when God doesn’t answer a tearfully offered prayer in the way we had hoped…will we endure to the very end of our assignment? At the height of intense suffering will we question if Jesus is the one or if we should expect someone else? These are very sobering questions to consider. Even mature believers sometimes tremble at the thought of suddenly facing their greatest weaknesses and fears but thank God for the reassurances found in His word. Jesus promised that He would never, ever leave us or forsakes us. Just as He showed grace and mercy to John the Baptist in his time of testing, He comforts us with words of affirmation in our times of weakness: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” 2 Corinthians 12:9

As I completed my study of Luke 7:18-28, I felt close to John the Baptist in a way I never had before. John’s weakness and stumbling exposed by Jesus’s response to his insulting questions made him much more real to me. His emotional struggle both encouraged me and acted as a sober warning. The fact that God knowing all things, still chose John from birth and used him so powerfully to accomplish His plan acted as a reminder that God isn’t looking for perfect people to anoint and use. He is looking for surrendered vessels who will humbly yield to the Spirit’s power and willingly obey His commands.

I pray this blog inspires a refreshing renewal of hope in your heart. If you are experiencing one of those frightening times when you’ve done your very best but feel like you’ve fallen short and are oh so close to stumbling, please trust in the sufficiency of God’s amazing grace. Take a deep cleansing breath, rest in Him and allow Him to perfect His power in your weakness.

May your soul find comfort in this scriptural Doxology…
“To him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy— to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen.” Jude 1:24-25

Image by: Jan Marczuk from Pixabay

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Mercy’s Intimate Touch

And if you had only known what this statement means, ‘I desire compassion [for those in distress], and not [animal] sacrifice,’ you would not have condemned the innocent.
-Jesus in Matthew 12:7 AMP

When your child is sick, it’s easy to feel like your faith is crumbling around you. I faced one of the biggest scares of my life one early dark morning when my daughter seized up in her crib. She had been physically struggling after receiving a vaccination and she’d become extremely feverish. My heart melted like butter when I saw the cloudiness in her grey eyes and heard the sharp cry of pain that came only seconds before her body began twitching uncontrollably. Her harrowing cry was like a knife to my heart. She was just barely one. I lifted her light body out of the crib and sat her on the bed next to my husband, “wake up!” I sobbed. Eden crumpled up and jerked involuntarily. She didn’t recognize my face or my voice for almost half an hour. Panic came in like a thief in the night and after her rushed trip to the ER (filled with shots and medical scans) she was sent home. My family and I spent days around the clock watching her.

And for days none of the treatment that she had received at the ER seemed to be holding up. Her state was alarmingly erratic. During those tiresome days of attending to her meticulously, I felt the stony weight of condemnation in my soul. Like a rock attempting to divide the roots of my faith…or a hungered weed, attempting to steal the scared places in my heart that only belonged to God. This “feeling” of condemnation came to uproot a little bit of my security in the love of God (Song of Solomon 1:15).

You see, I know it’s hard when the pains of life come unexpectedly. Whenever we go through slicing pain, it can be tempting to harden our hearts in disbelief concerning God’s Word or His nature. The devil doesn’t come donned in an obvious cloak of black and red with a pitchfork. No, he comes with the subtlety of religious philosophy that longs to poison our confidence in Christ and our identity in Him (it only takes a little yeast to leaven the whole loaf Matthew 16:6). He comes to incriminate us and God in our ears. Our “un-graced” mindsets, flare up like crimson algae creating a red tide in the ocean of our conscious. Accusations pop up like smokey fumes. This flare reveals the hidden places of self-blame and shame in us. It unearths the places of self-righteousness that naturally reject grace and denounce the true nature of God. What was in the dark, comes to light when we give in to fear.

For several hours I cried out to God with self-loathing because when I prayed for my daughter, nothing seemed to happen. I had lost touch with the purity of the gospel in those moments of panic (Romans 1:16). When I had prayed for Eden, I was secretly doing it out of self-effort instead of trusting in God’s all consuming grace (Galatians 3:1-2). I was really trusting in my own strength. more than that, I was trusting in my animal sacrifices (holy lifestyle) to earn the healing of God. I was cheapening the gift of faith-righteousness for my own brand of works-righteousness. I was defaming the sacrifice of Jesus for my own sacrifice. (Condemnation is a very slippery and clandestine slope…but I promise you it only comes when we take our eyes off of Jesus for our right-standing with God and put ourselves in His place Romans 5:1).

One morning I woke up to the misty scents of God’s mercy. He came quickly to rescue and reconcile my heart to His love. I realize that throughout all the trails in my life… that it is vitally important to always connect to the Father’s undying love in the midst of the storm. God woke me up to mercy. He showed me His beauty and deep care. In doing so, He effortlessly removed the stone of doubt and guilt that was seeking to grip land in my soul. I felt His love in those moments like fragrant ointment being poured on my skin and shortly after, because of His grace, Eden was divinely healed. She made a full recovery in less than 24 hours. Once I was empowered by His love to receive the truth of His mercy, I was able to breathe in confidence and faith came out like a sighing exhale.

I want to encourage you, that if you can’t get your faith to “work” during a crisis or difficult situation, to not allow condemnation to sneak its way into your soul. Resist all notions of guilt. God’s miracle is not based on your ability to be good enough but on Jesus being your substitute (He is your goodness before the Father). I pray that you will be strengthened by the incredible love of God for you and His immense and glorious grace that is freely given in Christ Jesus. Healing is never earned, deliverance is never earned, salvation is never earned. It’s only by the love of God through Jesus and our faith in that, that we receive His goodness. May you find the simplicity of the Gospel to be sweet salvation in all of your circumstances.

The miracle of that mercy-filled morning for me was not my daughter’s healing. It was that my soul became so captivated with the mercy of God even when the symptoms were still present, that I worshiped despite the circumstances. I adored Him and the fear so disappeared that I forgot all concern for my daughter. His love for me and my daughter surpassed my love for her, my love for myself and my love for Him.

This poem was birthed through intimacy with God during that tender morning:

Relationship with Him looks like mercy–like deep sweet waters perfumed with grace. This grace is heady, like the whiff of strong aged wine. It is as intoxicating as fragrant floral hills bathed in rainbow colored flowers.

You are as beautiful as Tizrah my God, lovely as Jerusalem my Father, more awesome than an army with bright banners my Husband.

You melt my soul with your eyes of deep love and care. Your compassionate heart soothes my inner worries.

Your very Presence is a vaporous mist vaster than the mountainous clouds that sheet the amazon rainforests.

You are light and beauty.

Water and wine.

You are Living Bread…the substance that makes me whole.

I am enraptured by You.

Romanced by Who You are.

Captivated by your tresses.

I am smitten to my inner core.

I find I am threaded into You by your divine hand. A three fold cord is not easily broken.

You share your heartbeat with me and my eyes are fascinated by You.

I feast at the table in your soul and your banner over me is undying love.

A recent picture of Eden 11/05/2019

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Angel Encounters

Therefore, angels are only servants–spirits sent to care for people who will inherit salvation – Hebrews 1:14 <3

This picture means so much to me. It’s been dear to my heart since the early years when I was filled with the Holy Spirit. I always saw myself as a child in God’s eyes and I prayed for angelic protection. Now, I’ve been pretty apprehensive in the past to share about my supernatural experiences with angels because I fear some people will take their eyes off Jesus who is the only One worthy of adoration (well, Jesus, God and Holy Spirit). Sometimes supernatural experiences can be sensationalized….and really, God wants the simplicity of a pure, deep, intimate, faithful and thriving relationship with us…. like a Father to His children, or a Husband to His wife. He’s done things for me (and for you) that are extravagant, but really, He is the extravagance, the true treasure.

I can swing pretty hard one way and become extreme quickly if I’m not too careful. There was one point where I belittled Father’s supernatural gifts to me and didn’t really thank Him or appreciate them like I should. A grateful heart is precious to the Giver. I have since repented of my flippant attitude toward angelic encounters and I wanted to share some of them with you. I say some because when I share too much as a writer…sometimes I feel like I am stripping my heart of treasures and not everyone appreciates or gives the treasures of their hearts in return. I only pray these testimonies encourage you to know that you serve a supernatural God who loves you and will employ heavens armies to help you, protect you, warn you and yes, even speak to you (although direct heart messages from the Holy Spirit and Jesus trump anything external):

1) Two days ago, in worship I was experiencing God’s loving gentleness, like a soothing spa bath. In worship, I was reminded of the three angels who came to me in a dream. This was during a season where I had just been delivered from demonic oppression and I was deciding on whether or not I would attend Bible college. In my dream, I had just come home from working at my church’s preschool (so this felt very real). When I walked into my room I saw 3 handsome men inside. They were all relaxed, like they had been waiting on me for a while. I wanted to ask them who they were and to get out! Then inside of me I sensed they weren’t human…but actually angels. I felt peace and a sense of calm. One of them was laying on my bed with his legs folded, the other was sitting on the carpeted floor and the other one was gazing out my bedroom window. The one who gazed out my window came toward me. He looked like he was 28.

“Where are your bags?” he asked me calmly.

“My bags?” I questioned.

His eyes became incredulous, like I should have known this information (but in a sweet way…it’s kind of hard to explain).

“Yes,” he said, “for Bible college. Why aren’t you packed?”

My eyes widened, “oh! Yes, I’m so sorry! I’ll get them packed right away!”

I brushed past him…not even glancing at the others.

“We will be in the car waiting,” the angel said and I saw a small red car at the front of Alice’s house in a vision.

They all left me to my packing.

I scurried around the room gathering my things and suddenly I remembered my brother Alex. He had to come with me! I called him up.

(Now, if you know me very well, you know that I had a habit of dragging my brother around with me on my God-adventures. At the drop of a hat I could say, “Alex, I’m going south tomorrow and I want you to come.” And he would come lol).

This time, God was letting me know in my dream that he wouldn’t be my tag-along anymore. He showed me these 3 angels would escort me to Bible college.

However, like many Biblical characters, I was stubborn. And Alex ended up coming with me anyway. Later I was a bit stressed about it, thus I reaped the reward of my stubbornness.

A few weeks into Bible college my, then friend, and now husband would tell me frequently, “I see a man standing outside your door a lot.”

“A classmate?”

“No, an angel. Sometimes I’ll just look up and there he is, arms on the railing, standing there.”

2) This encounter goes back to my teen years. I had just been filled with the Holy Spirit and I was doubting my salvation. The fruit of salvation was evident in my life. God talked to me often and I talked to Him. I felt His nearness and peace and yet religious thinking was causing me to doubt. So, I asked Him one day when I was alone at home, “am I saved?”

He answered right away, “yes.”

I felt peace but was still unconvinced. I went into my room and knelt by my dresser with my Bible in my lap. Suddenly my eyes lifted and I saw a huge angel in my room. He was hovering and I sensed him spiritually. He said, “Ashley, you are saved.” And then he left. I just stared blankly.

I began to doubt again and within about 30 seconds of my angelic encounter my cell buzzed.

I picked it up and my friend (who is also a brother in the Lord) said excitingly, “Ashley! I was just talking to the Lord and He told me you and I are saved!”

Now, you would think I would leap for joy, right? My security of living with Jesus for all eternity and the treasures of Heaven were secured for me. But did I leap? No. I said with less enthusiasm than should be possible, “that’s wonderful. Thank you for sharing that with me.”

Don’t be like me lol. Scripture and the Holy Spirit should be enough confirmation for you about your salvation. Jesus paid it in full.

3) I was taking a shower and was just finishing up. When I drew the curtains back I saw that I had left my towel on the sink which was past the commode. My eyes drifted to the towel railing and I thought to lean on it and stretch my body toward my towel so I wouldn’t drip on the floor. The Lord told me, “don’t do that. The railing isn’t stable.”

I heard His voice, but ignored Him, “it’ll just be for a second,” I reasoned.

I put my hand on the railing and went to reach for my towel.

Of course, the railing gave way and I started to fall.

My fall should have been painful. I should have bucked my knees on the tub wall and slammed down. Instead, midway down I felt wind rush underneath me and someone caught my body in midair! I was then softly put down until my hands and arms held me up!

I knew an angel had caught me.

“Thank you,” I said as I stood up and went for my towel to dry off.

~I hope God encouraged you somehow through these stories. I would love to hear some of your stories as well! How has Father used angels or people or His Spirit to care for you? May we be mutually encouraged in the faith through our testimonies of His goodness and grace.

P.S: Contrary to popular imagery angels are never presented in the Bible as women or feminine. I just had to say that. So, if you have an encounter with a female looking angel I would question that. Everything must be tested by scripture! No supernatural experience that breaks scripture is good. The Bible is our guidebook for behavior, for finances and yes, for supernatural encounters. There’s a real devil out there who loves to disguise himself as an angel of light. Jesus Christ is the authority for all truth, the Redeemer, higher than all the angels and our Savior. He is also healing for every heart and the only One who can truly satisfy the longing of our souls. Go to Him to be made whole. He loves you with all His heart <3

~To read more testimonies like this, check out my book, Visions of Celestial Love.

Ashley McClelland presents us with a true cornucopia of modern psalms, personal testimonies, and short stories. She has set out to reveal and unravel some of the most complex heart issues mankind faces in our quest of understanding what true intimacy with God really looks like. Prepare to have your soul massaged and worked on as you read Visions of Celestial Love.” — Jeremy Minard, Servant King Apparel

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His Sacrifice

By: Stephen McClelland

Here’s a word from God for one or more of you:

You’ve been looking at the story of Abel and Cain, where Abel’s sacrifice was respected by God and Cain’s sacrifice wasn’t.

You’ve been trying to get God to respect your sacrifice like Abel, trying to figure out what to do to be pleasing to God. You’ve been more conscious of this than God’s sacrifice, the Lord Jesus Christ whipped, beaten, spit on and hung on a cross for you. Your sacrifice cannot compare.

Instead of focusing on the quality of your own sacrifice, start focusing on the respectability and extravagance of His.

This is literally going to change the way you see God, how you interact with Him and how easy it becomes to get into faith to receive good things from Him.

He loves you.

~For more of Stephen’s encouraging messages visit his website by clicking here.

~Free image taken from here

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Helping Myself

~By: Danielle Sanders

Joshua 14:12 (NIV) – “Now give me this hill country that the LORD promised me…the Anakites [are] there and their cities [are] large and fortified, but, the LORD helping me, I will drive them out just as He said.”

“God helps those who help themselves.” Benjamin Franklin wrote these words in Poor Richard’s Almanac to inspire people to take initiative and do for themselves. I used to loathe this motto for the same reason I dismissed my own father’s words when he, as a believer, would say, “Yes, God will help you, but He also gave you a brain.” I thought I was being encouraged to trust in myself more than in God. Then, for some reason, when I learned about God’s grace, I started to think that I no longer had to work very hard to advance in life. I expected promotion and great wealth to simply overtake me because I am a believer. Not surprisingly, my expectations went unmet, but by the time I realized I needed to revisit my core beliefs, decades had passed me by.

One thing that finally became clear is that there’s a difference between working hard to earn right-standing with God and working hard to earn one’s way in life. You need not do the former because believing in Jesus puts you in right-standing with God. However, you must do the latter because you will get nowhere and accomplish nothing if you don’t, despite your right-standing with God. Somehow, I had conflated the two, but not anymore.

Historians say Benjamin Franklin was a deist. Among deism’s many non-biblical beliefs is the idea that God created the world but does not interact with it. God is seen as “the great clockmaker:” He made the clock, wound it up, and let it go, never to return. While I wholeheartedly disagree with deism, the analogy of the clockmaker got me thinking. What if God, through the finished work of the cross, is indeed like “the great clockmaker” who set the world aright for believers by giving them His own Spirit and placing them in His perfect Kingdom? He then “let it go” or let them go, rather, in the sense that He now expects believers to do for themselves using the supernatural power that is working within them (Ephesians 3:20).

If this is true, then it’s no longer about waiting on God to do something. Rather, it’s about using God’s power to accomplish God’s plan. Which brings me to another distinction I’ve come to understand: there is a difference between working hard and toiling. Hard work can actually be enjoyable and quite satisfying, whereas toiling never is. I think toiling is what happens when we try to accomplish things in our own strength instead of by the power (and wisdom) of God’s Spirit.

So how do we use God’s power within to accomplish things? I think it’s by believing the Word in our hearts, making declarations that align with what we believe, and then doing whatever things need to be done. To paraphrase Caleb’s words to Joshua quoted above, “Give me the mountain God promised me [40 years ago], and with His help, I’ll drive out the enemy like He said I would!” Caleb believed God’s promise, spoke it aloud in declaration, and then did it. I see the same pattern when David defeated Goliath.

God has already given us everything. Now it’s up to us to help ourselves to His provision by not only being fully convinced (at the heart level) about what God has said, but also declaring it for ourselves, from our own mouths, and then doing whatever is needed to accomplish the task. I believe this is how the Lord’s “super” is added to our “natural,” resulting in outcomes that far exceed our expectations.

What do you think? Share your thoughts with me in the comments section below.

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Lavereen’s Rain

~This excerpt was taken from my book Romantic Rendevouz for the Soul. You made read the entire book free on my Free Inspiration page. If you enjoy the book, please consider writing a review for it on amazonto help spread the word and bless others!

“Oh my precious sweetheart,” Lavereen breathed. Her soothing deep voice was like a song and was smoother than oil on polished wood. With sparkling hazel eyes Lavereen gazed at her sleeping daughter Rain in the sunroom.

Lavereen’s midnight-coal hair fell past her shoulders and ripe swollen breasts to her hips in two silken braids. Her face was slender, her skin fair, and her thin lips a cream pink rose.

The room where Rain slept was open to the sky. Windows graced the white walls with gauzy pale curtains. Sandy-colored carpet covered the dark wooden floor. All of the cherry wood furniture had been polished recently, so the faint sweet fragrance of lemons filled the air and tickled Lavereen’s nose.

Rain lay peacefully in ripples of cotton white sheets. Her round face embraced her pillow. Her full raspberry lips were pursed out while she dreamed in a sweet daze. Her soft cheeks flushed with color. No doubt she was warm despite the cool breeze that refreshed the air inside and wafted past the curtains, causing them to flow like ocean currents. Lavereen drank in Rain’s image with loving eyes.

Rain had one pudgy little hand underneath her pillow. The other she had drawn to her face touching her lips. Rain’s short coal-black hair was curly at the ends and was free from any style, coiffed especially on the top. Lavereen smiled fondly and nimbly trailed her sculpted fingers through Rain’s hair.

“So much like your father’s,” Lavereen whispered, reflecting that her own hair was
straight.

Before long Lavereen’s soft fingers slid down to her daughters tender pink cheeks, and to her moist hand curled into a loose fist. Lavereen opened Rain’s hand with her index finger.

Unconsciously Rain coiled her hand around her mother’s finger. Lavereen’s vision grew hazy with love and she leaned over, drawing her lips to Rain’s hand. With closed eyes Lavereen placed a tender kiss on her daughter’s hand, which made a low smack in the quiet air.

After a few seconds of gazing Lavereen gently pulled her index finger free out of Rain’s loosely gripped fist. Lavereen tapped her daughter’s pale button nose. She truly was a daughter of the moon, fair skinned like her mother. Nothing like her father who was a child of the sun; kissed with heat and light, his skin was like honey.

Thank you Lord for this little Angel, Lavereen began praying. I’ve always wanted a
daughter, a dear girl that I can share all the richness of my heart with. Rain snored lightly and stirred a little. Lavereen’s thoughts traveled to the latter years of motherhood. She smiled sweetly at her daughter.“

One day, my joy, I know you’ll begin to find your way into womanhood. You’ll take that
journey every healthy woman must take. A deep path into your heart. Like a trail in a wet pine forest it will be dampened with tears and prickly with self-discovery, but just you wait my love. You’ll find the core of your soul to be more bright and golden than the sun.”

Lavereen’s thoughts became weaved with the spider webs of tomorrow. She knew one day Rain would trade in her pink dresses and ribbons for lavender floral skirts. She’d move from pigtails to letting her curls fly free or tying them up with decorative combs. She’d start to wear colorful dangling earrings and plum lipstick with pale blouses. She’d feed her soul with music and her spirit with praise. She’d loose herself in art and writing, go on her first date, and cry a million tears from her first broken heart.

They’d argue about her expensive clothes or her boyfriends, and words that should have been concealed will be spoken. It was all part of a woman’s journey.
Despite the waves of emotions Lavereen knew came along with having a daughter, she was overjoyed to have one.

“With open arms I will gladly embrace every season of your life, dearest. For every season has its purposes, little treasures that deepen your heart and awaken your understanding.”

Loose strands of Lavereen’s hair licked her face in the breeze. She brushed them back with a hand. Her warm hazel eyes glassened with tears. You have my heart small one of mine. You are my dreams, my most heartfelt prayers locked up in a precious design.
“God above,” Lavereen whispered, “Father her like only you can. May the Holy Spirit be
her best friend, may your angels cradle her in their arms, may she feel their presence, and may they whisper secrets of Heaven that Solomon didn’t even know. May she be raised in your heart, may she drink in your love and walk side by side with Jesus Christ for all eternity.” <3

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Salvation at Snow Cafe

~This excerpt was taken from my book Romantic Rendezvous for the Soul. You made read part of the book for free on my Free Inspiration page. If you enjoy the book, please consider writing a review for it on amazon to help spread the word and bless others!

Her thick hair was swirled and had the same rich texture as a cinnamon bun glazed glossy with melted frosting. Indeed, some strands were the dark color of cinnamon, and others were honey, golden brown. She had maple syrup warm eyes that awaked the senses like sweet buttered bread straight out the oven on a cold winter night. Her lips were the cool lavender color of an early autumn plum dripping with the dew of morn.  Her skin was like milk washed caramel, glowing vibrant with sun kisses. She sat across the room from me in the small cafe drinking coffee and eating pumpkin pie.

Around her neck was an embroider deep purple scarf she had tied underneath her chin by her collarbones. She wore a white flowery blouse, which was partially hidden by the long woody brown jacket with a fur hood she snuggled in. I was surprised to find that instead of pants she had on a flowery white skirt. I guessed she must have had on leg warmers or tights underneath. It seemed only natural that knee boots the cinnamon color of her hair graced her legs and feet. She was reading some recipe book.

Her eyes intently scanned the pages. On her left ring finger was a golden ring engraved with aqua rhinestone. I sighed heavily as my eyes rested on her ring. She was taken. She seemed to notice me stare as her beautiful warm eyes lifted up from the pages and smiled at me. In embarrassment, I averted my eyes before looking at her again, to find she had continued to read.

I’m such an idiot I thought why didn’t I wave or say hello? I tapped my fingers on the polished wooden table and studied the ruby walls of the café decorated with paintings of lattes, bakeries, roses, and snowy hills with pine trees in a failed attempt to get my mind off of her.

Steam wafted in from the busy kitchen where a few chefs worked. One of the chefs seemed particularly frazzled. She hassled out the kitchen door and slumped against the wall. Her dark coily hair stuck to her smooth sweaty chocolate skin. She looked up in a daze. Her chestnut eyes were moist from the seasoning in the air. With a slender hand she brushed her hair back as she ran her fingers through her tight curls.  My heart went out to her; I could see she was dreadfully tired. She looked my way in a fog and I smiled at her. To my surprise she smiled back.

Before I knew it she was inching her way toward me. I sat up in my chair, not knowing what to expect. She sort of tilted her head as she neared me and her lips parted as she looked into my eyes. I knew right away she hadn’t noticed until now my eyes were a piercing arctic blue. Someone had called them “icy” before. I shook my head to remove the straight summer brown strands of my hair that hung above my eyes.  She stopped by my table and spoke in a timid voice, “forgive me, but you have a charming smile.” I grinned at her compliment as my face warmed. Suddenly the collar of my royal blue colored shirt seemed tight. I pulled at my long sleeves before thanking her.

“I’m Trisha.” She said.

“I’m Noble.” I said and held out my hand.

“No you don’t want to shake my hands, they’re sweaty.” She warned.

I laughed, “You’re probably right.”

“Yeah.” She sighed and brushed her hands on her apron.

“Why don’t you sit down and take a break.” I said offering her the seat in front of me.

“I’d like to, but it’s around 8o’clock. The nightly crowds usually just start coming in.”

“That’s a shame…I could use the conversation.” I mumbled without thinking.

Her eyes widened.

“That came out wrong,” I stammered, “what I meant was you seem flustered and I could use someone to talk to. I’m feeling the way you look.”

“Well thanks for noticing my looks.” She quipped, before giving me a warm smile and sitting down. “I’m all ears.”

I feared I was too bold with her. My stupidity would only become more apparent if I spilled my guts out to her. A woman I had just met. 

“Water?” I offered motioning toward my untouched cup.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Trisha said sipping some of the water out a straw.

After she was done she rested her elbows on the table and asked, “Ok pretty boy, what seems to be the problem?”

I arched an eyebrow at her words.

“I can be just as forward as you.” She said with a teasing smile before leaning back.

I chortled at her joke. She had a spicy personality.

She sat pretty comfortably and seemed eager if not prepared to listen to me. Apart of me wanted to dash out the door but her eyes seemed so trustworthy and even if she wasn’t I could always just avoid this coffee shop for life. My eyes peered over at the beautiful woman adjacent to me. I slightly lifted my chin and nudged it in her direction, “Do you know her name?” I asked.

Trisha turned around in the direction of my gaze and immediately knew whom I was talking about.

“Purple scarf?” she asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

A small laugh escaped my lips “Is it that obvious?”

She slowly nodded her head, her countenance jocular.

“I guess it’s hard to hide.”

“You look smitten.”

“Yeah but I shouldn’t be… she’s married.”

Trisha fell painfully silent before she spoke

“Her name’s Rose.”

“Rose.” I breathed, repeating her name. She is just as beautiful as one.

“She’s a poet who collects paintings and wine. She wants to live on a vineyard and her favorite color, in no surprise, is purple.”

I smiled as Trisha described Rose before asking, “How do you know so much about her?”

“She comes here often…for therapy, goodies, or just to say hello. It’s her quiet hangout spot.”

“Therapy?”

“Mhmm…just like you. I’m her listening ear. I don’t know why it is but…almost daily someone talks to me about their problems.”

I spooned my unsweetened hot coco. “Yeah, funny I guess. Maybe it’s your presence? You seem trustworthy.”

“Thank you.”

I sipped my hot chocolate before wrinkling my face at the taste. I forgot it was all natural and needed sugar. Trisha, knowing full well reached into the jam case and pulled out a few packets of sugar before handing them to me.

“So anyway, do you know if she’s married?” I asked hoping the ring she wore was anything but a wedding one.

“I think the ring pretty much speaks for itself.”

“Yeah.” I said underneath my breath.

Trisha reached out and briefly rubbed my arm. “It’ll be ok, God has someone special for you.”

I ignored her mention of God and sighed. “But I want her.”

“It’s not good to covet another man’s wife.” she said both gently and firmly.

“It’s not good, but it’s hard not to. I mean look at her.”  

Trisha nodded in agreement “She is lovely.”

“Gorgeous.” I corrected my tone like syrup.

Trisha breathed in deeply before gazing out the window at the falling snow that sprinkled down like white gold.  The flickering light of the pink candles that graced our table and every other table danced on her skin, illuminating her rich eyes.

“You know what’s gorgeous?” she asked mostly to herself. “This weather, your blue eyes, this world, and…God.”

I followed her gaze out the window. It was beautiful. Yellow lanterns glowing bellow the starry night sky. The hills and mountains covered with blankets of snow made waves along the horizon.

“Sometimes we get so caught up in what we don’t have that we fail to see what we do have. We have a way of becoming calloused to our blessings and we lose the simple joy in everyday life.”

I turned to her, drinking in her healing words. “You put that so well.”

She smiled at my words and for a moment my pain was forgotten.

“But I’m a man who knows what he wants. I guess that’s why my mom used to call me ‘picky’”

“There’s nothing wrong with hoping or dreaming, but you shouldn’t let your goals become a source of torment on your today.”

I fell silent.

“Besides,” she said continuing on “contentment makes time seem to go by faster. If God has given Rose to another man then she is not the one for you. He knows what you need and want out of life, and your wife. And don’t worry I’m sure he’ll meet all your requirements…and His. God’s not going to give you someone you’re not attracted to.”

“How do you know?”

“Because He hears and values your prayers…and you don’t look like the kind of man who could stay single for long.”

Her reassuring words were like honey to my heart. She folded her arms and sat back confident with faith.

“I guess I don’t look like the kind of man who could stay single.” I jested, posing as if I were in a photo shoot.

Trisha laughed heartily at my cocky pose and overly animated sultry smile. She had nice teeth and a bellowing laugh that seemed to start from her stomach and dive from her heart. I couldn’t help but join in. She laughed loudly before covering her mouth with a hand to stifle her cheer. It was one of the truest laughs I had ever heard. Usually girls would laugh quietly on dates, or around people they had just meet, something I call “fake laughs,” but Trisha seemed almost as happy as a countryman who just won a new pig.

“All jokes aside,” I began as we quieted down “you’re faith is admirable. Have you always felt that way?”

“It’s much less a feeling as it is a belief. And it didn’t get that way over night trust me. I’ve been waiting…patiently on God for sometime now. But in this season of waiting I’ve learned and experienced things I never would have. My faith is growing.”

“Like what?”

“Hm?”

“You said you learned some things. Care to give an example?”

“Well, He’s taught me that patience isn’t the ability to wait, but the ability to have a good attitude while you wait. Not only that, but to wait faithfully, and full of hope while you expect the Lord. I…believe the verse is Psalm 27:13, and it say’s: What, what would have become of me had I not believed that I would see the Lord’s goodness in the land of the living! Wait and hope for and expect the Lord. Be brave and of good courage and let your heart be stout and enduring. Yes, wait for and hope for and expect the Lord.”

Her words struck my heart. I loved the definition she gave of patience.

“I like that.” I smiled. She lifted her shoulders as if shied by my looking at her.

“What are you waiting on?” I asked. Her eyes widened and her shoulders fell, she seemed hesitant.

“What? If you can be my listening ear then I can be yours.”

“You asked me to listen.” She countered

“And now I’m asking you to talk.”

“Many things…and a who.”

“That’s not specific enough.”

“No pressure.” She said a hint of jest and defensiveness in her voice.

“Of course not,” I said inching forward “take your time.”

 She was quiet for a while before clearing her throat.

“Well I want to be a masseuse and…have a family of my own.”

“Was that so hard?” I asked giving her a sideways smile as she released a heavy breath.

“No.”

“I’m sure you’ll be a good masseuse and an even better wife and mother,” I glanced down before looking back up at her “you should consider being a counselor as well.”

“I would, except I don’t want to get paid for helping people.”

A gusty wind blew in and a crowd of young adults with snowflakes on their clothes and boots walked in engaged in conversations, the smell of hot, spiked apple cider hung on their breaths. Trisha watched as the group of friends neared the counter.

“It’s about time for me to leave.” She told me.

“Wait one moment more?” I asked her.

She thought about my request silently before answering “Just one moment.”

I was grateful to have her company for a little while longer. We sat quietly speaking to one another with our eyes and glancing down at our cups when our gazes felt awkward. I lifted my cup to my lips for another taste before Trisha asked me “Are you saved?” Suddenly fascinated with my hands I gave them full eye contact instead of her. Knowing I was being rude I set my cup down and responded, “As saved as I know how to be.” Old memories of my once love life with Christ striking pain in my heart.

“What does that mean?” she asked softly, careful of her words as she guessed this was a tender subject to me.

“It means for the most part…I’ve let go. I just kind of walked away from that life…now I’m sort of wandering back and forth.”

“I see.” She said slowly. Her steady gaze unnerved me, but to my surprise there was no condemnation in her eyes.

“He wants you back.” She said leaning towards me.

This was getting a little too personal and I felt myself becoming uncomfortable. But what did I really have to lose? Nothing, but my stupid pride. I wanted to be vulnerable with her; I wanted to share my dead faith with this seemingly caring stranger. The gains outweighed the loss. I secretly hoped what she said was true. That God hadn’t forgotten about me although I had turned my back on him to pursue un-honest gains and satisfy my flesh in selfishness and sinful pleasures.

“How and why would God want someone like me back?” I meet her eyes knowing my heart showed through them. If this went bad I knew I didn’t have to see her again.

She smiled “Someone like who?” The way she asked the question I knew nothing I could have confessed could alter her view of me. The grace in her voice, and mercy in her eyes almost brought tears to mine. Nobody had ever looked at me like that! Before I had even confessed I was met with an ocean of forgiveness.

“God’s not interested in your sin or what you’ve done.  He’s interested in you… He delights in you and He loves you because that’s who He is. He can’t help but love.”

I fought the grief that threatened to rise from my soul, and my flesh sought to retreat. There is no way He could love me after what I’ve done.

“I’ve done too many b-“

“This isn’t about what you’ve done but what’s been done for you and it’s not about who you are but who lives inside of you.”

Stop! I wanted to tell her to…stop. I couldn’t bear to be humiliated and cry in front of her, the people in the café…and especially Rose! I clenched my jaw and looked sternly at her to hide the pain her words were awakening. I had shoved God so far into the corner of my mind and heart that to hear His name so bluntly spoken made me realize He was always there gently knocking. And to admit and face that I had ignored and cursed at Him for so long threatened to rip my heart open. I felt the weight of my evil, despite the grace I saw in Trisha’s eyes.

“It’s ok to cry.” She whispered as if seeing me past my fake facade.

“Not for this man it isn’t.” I said as firmly as possible.

She hesitated “Tears of regret are…beautiful to Him.”

“Regret for what?” I said through clenched teeth. Despite my efforts anger burned in those words.

Trisha pressed her lips together before apologizing. “I’m sorry for over stepping my bounds.”

I sighed quietly “I know you only meant well.”

A few tedious seconds passed by before either of us spoke. “Before I leave can I trouble you with one more thing?”

I nodded my head.

“Will you pray with me?”

Her request was surprisingly irresistible. And becoming that little boy again I slowly put my hands on the table and opened my palms. My flesh wanted to run but something inside of me implored me to stay. I could tell she was surprised when I gestured for her to hold my hands. I set them on the table for a reason. Trisha slid her soft hands atop mines and instinctively I cased her hands in mine. She gently squeezed my hands back, closed her eyes and bowed her head. I stole a moment to look at her in awe of what was happening.

How did it come down to this? I simply wanted to pursue Rose before finding out her marital status. Then all I wanted was a listening ear. That’s what I get for seeking one in a café instead of a bar! At least there I could have spilled my guts to a drunkard…he’d forget me and everything I said by morning. Instead some stranger is praying over me?

Trisha began praying and that took me away from my wandering thoughts. I closed my eyes as she began.

“Dear Jesus, I know that you have orchestrated this moment from the beginning of time to reach your son Noble, because you love him. I pray Lord that he would know with all his heart, mind, soul, and strength the height, depth, width, and length of the love You have for him. May it be to him a revelation within. I pray You’d tenderize and surround him always in Your presence. Saturate and dissolve him in Your wondrous, fierce, and terrific love.”

Hot tears swelled in my eyes as I felt a peaceful presence, more real than the clothes on my back knock at my heart. Trisha paused… as if listening to someone.

“Nobel, will you repeat after me?”  She asked gently.

“Yes” I answered, voice rough with emotion.

“Dear Jesus.” She began

“Dear Jesus.”  I echoed.

“I ask you to come into my heart and be my Lord and Savior.”

I repeated her word for word through the whole prayer.

“I realize I’ve turned from You Savior and with all my heart I repent and ask You to stay and dwell within me forever. Make my heart Your own; shine Your holy light on the inside of me. Purify me and replace the lies in my mind with Your truth. Heal me everywhere I hurt and have Your way with me. May I walk the path God has set for me, and may His will be done. I ask also that You would fill me to the overflowing with Yourself. And may I have a deep, personal, and intimate relationship with You and Jesus. Also may I not grieve or vex Your Holy Spirit but may I come to appreciate and treasure His loving corrections that lift me up out of self -destructive habits.  Reveal Yourself to me Father…in Jesus precious and holy name I pray amen. So be it.” 

We opened our eyes at the same time. Streams of tears lined my cheeks and Trisha’s eyes were like glass pools brimming with tears. An unexplainable joy and peace filled me. I felt as if God’s love had tangible arms that embraced me.

“Thank you.” I told her tears coloring my voice. She gave me a beautiful smile as a way of saying “your welcome”.

“Oh my goodness.” She said wiping her eyes with her sleeves and sniffing “I’m all emotional.”

We laughed with tears of joy. She offered me a napkin and I swiped at my eyes and cheeks.

Trisha pulled a silky yellow scrounge from her wrist and wound her dark hair up in a ponytail. I watched her for a moment and wondered if she was an angel. She noticed me staring and joked “Do I have something on my face?”

“Beauty.” I said without thinking. I felt like smacking myself on the forehead.

Trisha’s peaceful eyes widened before she touched her cheeks, which warmed from my forward compliment and she thanked me sheepishly.

“My, my my aren’t you a bold one.” She laughed

“I’m usually not,” I said spooning my hot coco in embarrassment “but…the way you pray is…moving. Honestly I was looking at you because I thought you might be an angel.”

Even though her skin was dark I saw her blush. It was different but beautiful, like a faint raspberry cloud underneath chocolate milk.

“Oh no… I’m far from that. I just try to obey the Lord and love Him as best I can.” She said humbly. Her words like praise to God.

“That’s all He can ask. All the same you touched me.”

“Well I’m glad God used me to bless you.”

Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of a group of people sit down in the circle of soft hazel love couches under a chandler of fake electric candles.

A loud crash in the kitchen caught our attention and we both swung our heads in the direction of the noise. Trisha turned to me and I knew she was preparing to say goodbye.

“I encourage you to get connected in a great church that will feed, and encourage you. Never stop seeking God’s heart.”

“Oh I have one in mind. I’m sure my old friends will be happy to see me.”

“That’s good,” she said with a smile “I better get going.” She rose and downed the water I had given her. “Have a good night.” She said and turned to leave.

“Wait!” I called and caught her hand. My actions once again surprised me and startled her.

“I’m not sure you were completely honest with me when you said you aren’t usually bold.” She said wiggling her fingers free.

“You’ve got the best of me tonight.” I quipped, unregretful of my actions.

“I’d hate to see the worst of you.” She laughed.

I chortled at her witty comeback. “Do you work here tomorrow?” I asked

“Yes.”

“What time is your break?”

“11:30am-12pm.”

“Can I buy you lunch?”

She arched an eyebrow at me.

“So we can talk more?” I added trying to explain myself.

“I’ve never been one to turn down food.” She said patting her flat belly.

“It doesn’t look like it.” I said scanning her petite figure.

“Thank you but looks can be deceiving.”

I smirked before asking “So I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“It’s a date. And I mean that figuratively.”

“Of course.” I said and then winked at her.

“Try to act noble Noble.” She teased.

“I’ve never been one to really live up to my name. And I’m just kidding with you Trish.”

“I know.” She smiled before taking a step back.

“Have a good night.”

“You too.” She said before turning around and disappearing into the kitchen.

I sighed and stared at my hot chocolate. Suddenly I didn’t have the appetite for it. After a few minutes of thinking I got up and proceeded to throw my hot coco away. Not paying attention on my way to the trash I bumped into someone. Honey hair tickled my hand and I looked up to find Rose looking at me with her beautiful eyes. Her cup dropped so I bent down and picked it up.

“I’m sorry.” She said her voice was like oil on a smooth surface.

“No, it’s my fault.” I said throwing her cup away and straightening up.

I glanced down at her almost breathless from her beauty. She smiled and her lavender lips made my heart skip a beat.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Are you from here?” she asked pulling her purse strap up her shoulder.

“Yes and no…I’m kind of returning.”

“Oh. You look unfamiliar is all. This is a small town and tourists usually don’t come in the winter. Noble right?”

How does she know my name?

“Yes.” I said with lifted eyebrows.

“I overheard you with Trish. I’m kinda jealous you stole her away for the night.” She laughed but I knew she was serious.

“My apologizes.”

“No need, I’ll catch her tomorrow over lunch.”

“Uh,” I rubbed the back of my head “actually we have lunch plans.”

Her eyes twinkled “Oh ok.” She said slowly.

“It’s not what you think.” I laughed

“Mhmm.”

“It’s not. She’s…a pretty cool person.”

“I know that well.” She said softly. Her eyes deepening as if thinking fondly of all the wonderful things Trisha had done for her. “I’m Rose.” She said holding out her silky hand.

“Well you know my name.” I said shaking hands with her.

“Yes I do.” She giggled before drawing her cookbook to her side. “Take care.” She said reaching for the door.

“God bless.”

I said holding it out for her.

“You’ve definitely been talking to Trish.” There was radiance in her voice.

I gazed at her glowing dazzling face before shutting my eyes and telling myself she was another man’s wife.

“Night.” She said and walked out the door.

“Good night.” I said to her back.

I watched her leave. Gentle snowflakes rested on her glossy hair. Indeed I still was attracted to her beauty but that desire, now, didn’t bring me pain.

She belonged to someone else and God had another for me.


“Ashley has a very talented gift to weave words together that display tenderness, compassion and purity. Each story reveals the heart of Jesus towards His children. As you read each one you can see past the characters and feel the depth of Jesus’ heart, as well as the longing for a deeper relationship with Jesus inside yours.” – Everesta Hannon

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The Caregiver’s Guide

~By: Linda Kloth

“It is a delicate dance when that time comes. Whether the aging loved one is a parent, grandparent, spouse, aunt, uncle, close family friend, or long-time neighbor—it can be anyone we know and care about—the level of involvement differs for everyone.

Having caregivers can be the difference between getting regular meals, paying bills on time, keeping utilities on, safety around the house, and more. By being available, our family helped my grandparents avoid scams, remember what the doctor said, and take medications properly.

The stories and anecdotes included in this book center around my experience with my grandparents, with the hope that, though your situation is unique, our story will reflect situations you may face.

Your loved one may be experiencing challenges on any part of the spectrum, from needing occasional help, to needing regular assistance, to help with daily living. It’s good to watch for clues that signal greater involvement is needed. The longer we live, and the faster the world changes, the more likely that time will come for the elders in our lives. I saw all this happening first-hand over time with my grandparents, as an insider living in their home.” <3

~This short excerpt was taken from Linda’s book: Caregiver’s Guide: Getting Started, Making It Work, and Finishing Well

P.S: For years, I watched Linda graciously navigate the frail balance between her individualism and her new role as a caregiver, with the poise of a performing ballerina. Although some seasons were stressful for her, she still managed to meet me for coffees, volunteer with Cru4Jesus, work-part time, edit my book, take care of herself and manage an assortment of other things. Her iridescent laughter chimed throughout her 8 years as a full-time caregiver and the sparkle in her azure eyes never diminished. I was astounded by her ability to lean on God so fully in the difficult times. Linda served her grandparents at home with deep affection, love and excellence. Because of her sacrifice, she was able to give them security in their last years from the comfort of their own home. Watching Linda love deeply was a radiant sight to behold. I hope all who read this book will be greatly encouraged and tremendously blessed with the grace, wisdom and strength of God, as they attend their aging loved ones.

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The Cost

~By: Candy Thomas

Proclaiming God’s truth in love

May add two enemies for each friend

But immeasurable grace from above

Multiplies blessings in the end

So carefully count the cost

Appreciating the salvation of men

Because the Gospel preached to the lost

Delivers life and frees from sin

Saints who willingly pay the price

Appreciate God’s kingdom above all

They gladly make any sacrifice

Highly valuing the Spirit’s call

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Sharon’s Love

~A short story about forgiveness, written from the perspective of an unfaithful, ambitious husband

“Sharon,” I mumbled as I slipped in and out of consciousness.

“Rose,” I heard a sweet voice reply. My eyes slurred beneath my eyelids. Rose of Sharon, I thought wistfully, remembering Song of Solomon. It was her intimate name…the name I had called her when we consummated our marriage. The smell of vaporous pear butter soothed my senses. My body was sweaty and achy. Pain licked up my back as I tried to shift.

“Shhh, rest now,” the soft voice said. My eyes were crusted close.

“I want to see,” I groaned, pleading inside for sight. I heard shuffling in the room and a shaft of light moved—curtains were being drawn back.

“I know,” Sharon replied, tears coating her voice, “I’ve prayed for you to see for years now.” Her uttered words were like a palpable force leaving me wondering how deeply I had hurt her.

 A tea kettle whistled and for a moment I could sense her peaceful presence no more. Water was being poured. Moaning weakly, I felt for her with my hands, craving the comfort of her touch. She drew by my side and took hold of my hand. Her supple fingers were smooth like running cream. She lightly caressed my fingertips before she intertwined her hand in mine. She sat beside me and plush lips moist with tears met my perspiring forehead.

“You’ve been in the dark too long,” she whispered.

She released my hand, dipped hers in a bowl of oiled water and gently rubbed her thumbs across my eyes. I breathed deeply as the scent of frankincense and myrrh created an aromatic fog around my face.

“It’s anointing oil,” Sharon soothed.

My eyes fluttered open and the golden sunlight pouring in from the window almost blinded me. Translucent curtains waved as a fresh breeze seeped in from the cracked windowsill.

My eyes squinted as Sharon dipped a floral towel in the steaming water. It was the same towel she had worked on for weeks. I had called it a “rag” in the past—considering it drab and ugly. Only now could I see the delicate detail she had put in it. Bright red apples danced like rubies across the cloth.

Sharon smiled tenderly at me as she carefully wiped the sweat from my brow and dabbed my neck and chest with the towel. I relaxed as she worked, feeling a healing presence gently warm my body through her fingertips. For a moment, the sunlight formed a halo behind her silhouette.

Why was she doing this?

I had walked out on her and fully intended to take all of our marital assets, given time. If it hadn’t been for that potentially fatal car accident last week, that temporarily had me bedridden, I would have done so by now. I knew how to swindle the system well—banking, no greed, had taught me that. Greed for wealth had made me a cunning swindler…a breaker of her heart.

The words she had oft spoken to me came back, “Love is patient…it keeps no record of wrongs…God’s love in us does not fail.”

I peered at her. Her eyes were like the richest cinnamon glinting with flecks of amber. Her glossy raspberry lips and cheeks were awash with tears. I could see the trail of them on her chin and neck. She moved to massage my scalp when I caught her wrist. A small gasp escaped her lips and she stared at me.

I’m sorry. The words burned to escape my throat.

I only looked back at her. My jaw clenched and my eyes twitched.

Why couldn’t I say it?

What held me back?

Her beatific eyes rained rivers of love on me and something in my heart broke free like water crashing against a dam.

“Why?!” I wept brokenly, surprised to find myself crying.

“Because God’s love never fails.”

My eyes widened as the empyrean light behind her became a Man. Like a balmy song, a cherubic voice spoke in the air, “I’ve prayed for you to see for years now.”

~This short story was taken from my book Visions of Celestial Love

“Ashley presents us with a true cornucopia of modern psalms, personal testimonies, and short stories. She has set out to reveal and unravel some of the most complex heart issues mankind faces in our quest of understanding what true intimacy with God really looks like. Prepare to have your soul massaged and worked on as you read Visions of Celestial Love.” — Jeremy Minard, Founder of Servant King Apparel, Active U.S Navy