Author: bonniejeancarr

This is just my current season of life here on earth. Change is brewing, and direction, for me, is uncertain. I’m not fearful. I’m unclear, unsure and unresolved. Thus, my nature has pointed me to God’s compass for both my solution and my “soul”ution.
Not only have I heard God’s voice leading and guiding me, His articulation has also, authoritatively, reminded me that I am IN His hand, NOT ON His hand. Ouch, I both deserved and needed this reprimand.
There I was begging God to direct my life. Now, this was what I correctly grasped and carried out. Trouble was I also executed the mistake of exerting my human leadership direction, instead of the comprehensive soundness of following God’s will and way.
Yep, I was whipping around my pointer finger – sort of showing God the direction of my will and way. Let me assure all that this is not the path to be travelled with expectations of being delivered to where God wants and needs you to be, nor where you can be of any service to God or any of His children.
Loud and clear, God yanked me back on course. Simply stated, if I want God to carry me in His hand and lead me to where I’m called and destined to be, then I need to realize and accept MY pointer finger is not a part of HIS hand. God’s hand comes complete with HIS own Devine pointer finger, and it usurps mine, if I truly want to, and do in fact, rest in His hand.
Maybe we all, not just I, need to remember to tuck our pointer finger inside our own hand when asking God to carry us in His hand.

Amidst the hurry and scurry of this week, a new friend stopped me in my track. Sounding congratulatory she uttered to me, “Wow, you possess blind Faith!”. Totally confusing her, I replied, “Nope, it’s impossible for my Faith to be blind, but often my trust is blind.”. Therein began a soul reflecting conversation.

From the time I was a little child, I’ve known God’s presence – not just His existence but His presence. I grew up talking to God. Often times, this was because God cared and made time to listen when the world felt my little girl, chubby, awkward being was not only a never was but, also, a never would be. God was never a fairy godfather to me. He was, and is, my very own Father God.

I firmly believe in God, and my Faith in God is never blind. For as long as I can remember, I’ve seen God active in my life. My Faith is in whom I know and love and in whom knows and loves me. Thus, in no way is my Faith blind, nor is it capable of being blind.

Trust, however, must be (and is) at times blind. Trust is the limb (anchored offshoot) that branches from the trunk of Faith. In honesty, trust is found in what currently cannot be seen. Trust is not in God, but in what God can, might and will do. If we could see trust, then there would be no need to even have trust. Trust can be built upon what we have seen in the past, but every time trust is needed, it is because we cannot see what is currently needed, prayed for and hoped for. Trust is blind.

Because my Faith is not blind, my trust does not need sight to believe. Maybe, I’m splitting hairs here, but as God’s heir to heaven, my journey back home is navigated by seeing Faith and blind trust. For me, in view of this rests my peace and joy. The eyes of my soul see God enabling my heart to blindly trust my Heavenly Father to guide, guard and deliver me beyond all I cannot see.

Bombarded by a multitude of Satan scenarios in loved friends’ lives, my prayers have revved up in slowing down to deeply ask God to intervene. This morn, a tad worn down from feeling more need than gratitude, I asked God why so many cherished ones’ lives seem so impossible? Needing not even a micro-second to respond, God declared: man sees impossible; I, your God, speak “I’m Possible”.

Immediately, I realized instead of laboring in prayer, I should be praying without labor. The weight of the world should not be drowning my prayers in heaviness. The promises of God should be uplifting my prayers in buoyant faith, hope and love. Not I, you nor anyone else can keep Satan’s handiwork from touching our lives. However, I you and everyone else can choose to replace Satan’s impossible with God’s “I’m Possible”; and, from here, trust God to carry us not only through, but also, beyond all trials and tribulations.

At least for me, it’s beyond time to stop bringing “dead” prayers to God. My prayers need, instead, to be “thread” prayers, woven into the fabric of God’s might. In doing so, I must clearly remember man’s might is maybe. God’s might is absolute strength that overpowers all.

Bringing our loves ones’ needs to God is one of our greatest Christian callings. Whether we do so depressed by Satan’s theatrics or inspired by the reality of God’s unlimited promises is our choice to decide. For me, this is now written in stone by Psalm 34:17-22. “When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears and delivers them out of all their troubles. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all. He keeps all his bones; not one of them is broken. Affliction will slay the wicked, and those who hate the righteous will be condemned. The Lord redeems the life of His servants; none of those who take refuge in Him will be condemned.”

Blessed and grateful, I’m in the midst of visiting my year-old twin granddaughters. As I flew towards them, my thoughts wondered how much they had grown and learned since last I held them. What I came to discover is how deeply the Lord uses a baby to remind us grown-ups of many a lesson. Truly, this last week has added new insight to the truth, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”. Matthew 18:3 (ESV)

For instance, may I share Becklynne and her “uppa blub blub” – her passey hanging from her tiny stuffed giraffe. Her treasured “uppa blub blub” is her port in all storms. Passeys may be a dime a dozen, but only “uppa blub blub” dries her tears, brings her security and comforts her when the world brings scarey moments. She clings to “uppa blub blub” as God created all, regardless of age, to cleave to Him.

There is profound wisdom in recognizing a baby, before the world can train her to have a stiff upper lip, possesses a soft, instinctive need to hold onto a chosen source for security and love. Is not this a beautiful picture of how we all should cling to God all the years of life? Why in our grown-up moments of trials and tribulations do we forget God, as our mainstay, is all we need to survive downfalls, defeats and destruction.

Good thing I have two pointer fingers. Both sisters reached for one when strutting in their faux fur trimmed cowgirl boots. The little misses are fascinated by their boots and want them on 24/7. However, the clumsy weight on their baby feet makes walking quite an off-balance task. It takes their baby hand wrapped around Grammy’s pointer finger to balance enough to walk without tumbling over. Are we not all created to hold God’s hand as we walk through all that throws us off balance too? A baby instinctively reaches for a finger before they take a step. This is a first action, not last effort. A wise lesson can be garnered from this.

Ellanora’s and Becklynne’s tiny bottoms have only to touch their highchairs, and their sweet little arms stretch out to hold those next to them. They pray before they eat. Would that we grown-ups would take as much delight in praying as they do.

To say the least, my visit with two one-year olds has been a blessing beyond measure. The hugs and snugs will forever warm my heart. The insight into their baby beings sharing Godly lessons will always burn brightly in my soul. And yes, this proud Grammy knows for sure these little ladies are God’s wisest of baby angels.

Goodness gracious, from a corner of an American mega airport, I’m thoroughly entertained by the parade of mankind passing by me. My initial reaction was are these people from planet earth? Getting overwhelmed with the flow of folks going against the stream of conventional attire, my mind wandered back to the olden days when clothes were a symbol of respect, not a statement of disregard. Nostalgically, I smiled as I remembered my Mother teaching me white gloves were a necessity for all little girls (big girls too) to don for Sunday church. God deserved worshippers to dress up before we knelt down in His glory. Honestly, I miss those days.

My mind next meandered to the realization that many, currently, are devoted more to proving they are free thinkers in what they wear and what they believe in than they are to claim the cloth of Christ as their robe of identity. The lengths to which humanity goes to establish their personal identity and purpose by looking outlandishly different from others is mind boggling.

Being overloaded with gazing at the preposterous, I retreated to grazing in the pasture of my soul. I asked God to weigh in on why society thinks being different leads to achieving supreme purpose in life. Yes, the world is in dire need of changing, but why does humanity think that to choose to outrageously stand out in a crowd is the path to contentment, harmony, self-assurance, soul assurance, or any significant leadership and accomplishment?

Delivering my query to the Lord, I fell back into His wisdom and listened to His enlightenment. Softly, my soul heard God’s rejoinder: My daughter, My creations (your fellow inhabitants of earth) are correct in realizing the world needs to change and in wanting to change the world. However, their means of doing so is totally wayward. For you see, to change the world, My children do not have to be something they are not. They just have to be the someone I created each to be.

God’s words spoke volumes. Our society has lost its grasp on holding our Heavenly Father’s hand, being beautifully dressed in His righteousness and fashioning our world back into mirroring the reflections of His image.

In my eyes, the sight of the crowd of “out of this world” travelers pacing the concourses of an airport suddenly changed from comical to pitiful. In my heart, the change went from a comedy to a tragedy. In my soul, I now pray the runways of life become a parade of God’s children clothed in the cloth of Christ and leading the wayward prodigal back on track to the greatest destination of all – eternity with God.

As my flight began to board, I put my pencil down and took up a new appreciation for the white gloves my Mom taught my fingers to fill and for my knees, which my Mom showed me how to bend in awe of God, in whose cloth I long to be covered.

“…Clothe yourself with the new self, created according to the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.” Ephesians 4:24 (NRSV)

Struggling to re-establish a normal inner peace in my life, I started by taking time with the Lord. Actually, my relationship with God never took a beating as life spun out of the norm last year. However, being a firm believer all starts with the Lord, I went first to soul time to jump start my settling back into my normal existence. O.K., I realize those who know me best are laughing cause my norm can only be defined as abnormal. Still, I needed to retreat from my total chaotic 2024 and seek 2025 to be what even heaven might declare as my abnormal over what hell declares abysmal.

I was seeking God’s peace and direction. Logically, at least to me, my route was to find God in new ways. My Bible in a year, daily devotionals, small groups and weekly Church service were already my life’s staples. My hunger desired to witness God being the thread running through universal Christian lives. My decision was to take the second day of weekend services and visit different churches and reap the blessing of peace as other congregations praised our universal, one and only God. In doing so, I sought the gift of seeing (and understanding) though surroundings vary, God is the norm from whence peace reigns (and rains) for all Christians. He is who adds routine stability to our crazy (at times even out of control) lives and world. Simply stated, God, alone, is the center of all that is normal. He is the common fiber that sustains us in both peace and balance of mind and soul.

Regardless of the open Church doors through which I walked, every Christian denomination I partook of was uplifting, Scripture enlightening and brought unity amongst all worshippers. The tragedies of the current world were prayed for; and while earthly chaos was not instantaneously quenched by the congregations’ intercessions, all worshiping experienced release from the fires of worldly turmoil in praising God’s power to forgive all trespasses and deliver all from evil. Universally in every Church, spending time with God stopped the onslaught of worldly pandemonium and replaced the atmosphere with harmony, peace and blessings.

Denominations might have outward differences, but inwardly all praise of God results in our Heavenly Father being honored and mankind being immersed in the normalcy of God’s peace and protection. Time with God is the sole way for our souls to switch the normal chaos of the world into blissful normalcy. Maybe we can’t escape the world, but we can escape its chaos by falling at our God’s feet and praising Him whose power dispels all evil and brings unto all the regular presence of calm amidst all storms. Herein is the finding of the norm all children of God seek and savor.

Driving away from my last visited House of Worship, a chuckle and a sigh escaped my being. I had been seeking a normal, peaceful routine to embrace my life. My chuckle was grounded in my realization that in this world the norm is tumultuous chaos. My sigh was rooted in the absolute truth that only in both God’s presence and hands can the touchstone of normalcy be founded and grounded in the orderliness of peace and harmony. Looking up to the calm skies of heaven, I quipped to God, “There’s a double purpose of the Sabbath, isn’t there? First and foremost, You created it as a normal time of praise given You. However, You engineered it, also, as a fueling station for Your children. For in praising You, the normalcy of Your peace and harmony are interjected into the lives of Your wearied children. The tranquility resulting from praising You becomes the petrol we need to remain in normalcy of faith, hope, love and trust as we routinely maneuver through the normalcy of chaos in our fallen world and lives.

Not only the clock is ticking away, but also days and weeks. Foremost on my mind is why is God taking so long? With deep and sincere intercession, my prayer was offered. A tad frustrated from waiting, I asked God, why the delay? What’s taking so long? God’s answer was discovered in His question – Why, my child, don’t you think about timing in Christ’s life? Therein, lies the patience you lack and the understanding you need.

The following comprises the enlightenment God shared with me as I pondered where His question led me.

Christ came down to earth from the throne of Heaven for one purpose, to redeem mankind. Christ is God. God can accomplish all immediately. Is there a missed message in it taking thirty-three years for Christ’s redemption intercession to be answered? Never once, in all of Scripture do we hear Jesus complain His route for the accomplishment our redemption was taking too long. In both obedience and patience, Jesus waited over three decades to have His intercession for our redemption to be granted.

Ouch, I am convicted! It’s pretty pompous of me to expect (and even, at times, demand) my desired prayer outcomes happen immediately.

Christ’s entire life on earth is a blueprint for us to follow, but often details are overlooked. Before now, never have I questioned why redemption wasn’t an overnight accomplishment. Nor have I realized Christ’s example found, and inspiration garnered, from contemplating how long Jesus waited for fulfillment of His intercession for my redemption.

Yes, my human nature still prefers spontaneous granting of answers to my prayers; but my child of God’s soul now holds peace as I trust God’s timing to deliver fulfillment of my intercessions. Of even greater hope, until at least thirty-three years pass, I’ll never stop believing God’s answer is on its way!

I make no bones about it. I comprehend my being out of the ordinary in how I think, feel, act and react. In no way am I inferring I am good, bad, right or wrong. I am just different. Since my childhood days, I simply (and probably weirdly) perceive God leading me to unique views. A common theme of revelation for me comes from God prodding me that nothing is random or per chance. God thought of everything, and my mortal journey’s delight is to uncover His intricate and symbolic detail. A prime example was last night. It started out a restless endeavor to settle into a peaceful slumber. While I was focused on the answer for getting to sleep, God woke me up with a compound question.

Why do the children of God have fingernails and toenails, and what is God’s message regarding them? Believe me, that inquiry woke me up! Where in Heaven’s name was this leading – certainly not to dozing rest? My room’s nightlight switched over to God’s spotlight. Sunrise was hours away, but the SON’s ray rose to illuminate my understanding.

Finger “NAILS” and toe “NAILS” are not compound words but the compound of living out and sharing our Christian Faith.

Universally, in Christian Faith, the word “NAILS” holds one immediate essence – the Crucifixion. “NAILS” driven through Christ’s hands and feet delivered to us God’s love, forgiveness and redemption. As followers of Christ, we are commissioned to “Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”. (Matthew 28: 19-20) Not by coincidence but by God incidence, Christ spoke these words AFTER the “NAILS” were driven through His hands and feet. With new understanding, a smile crossed my lips as I nodded my head and proclaimed, “Got it God!”.

Our fingertips have to reach out and touch others to share God’s love. Our toes have to walk unknown paths to carry God’s Word to those whose souls are lost. What inspiration does God give us for strength and courage to carry out His commission? Could it be that the “NAILS” at the tips of our fingers and toes were created to be the reminder that the “NAILS” that Christ endured became our source of power to lead others into membership in God’s eternal family. Fearing our ability to represent Christ to others or trying to ignore our calling to serve God by serving others is impossible to hide behind, if we recognize our finger “NAILS” and Toe “NAILS” as a remembrance of the Crucifixion “NAILS”.

The proximity of our “NAILS” to the paths (reaching out and travelling to) leading to our fulfillment of God’s commission can bring us needed confidence and security to crack open the window of salvation for souls in need of knowing the reality of Crucifixion “NAILS”.

I challenge you to now ponder for yourself if our finger “NAILS” and toe “NAILS” are accidental outgrowth or God’s inner, intentional reminder that the only way for our hands and feet to reach out and walk others into God’s fold is through sharing Crucifixion “NAILS”?

Seeking quiet serenity, I wandered through the open doors of a church of which I was not on the congregation member roll. I was in search of God and belonging to Him. Familiarity and fitting into a niche of attendees was not my focus. Seeing God in our world, not just in my small known corner of it, was my yearning. Sometimes Hope is most deeply renewed when new vision is received, instead of reviewing reflections we repeatedly perceive. Thus, my human hands and spiritual soul cracked open a new door.

Deliberately, I arrived early. I longed to experience more than a Sunday service. God had planted in me the seed of discovering His love, by taking a glimpse of His children who are strangers to me. What brighter way could there be to see God’s glowing reflection defying, and defeating, the dark despair etched across our wayward world? God had led me here. There was not a doubt in my being that God would reveal a mighty warrior who would affirm His reigning leadership, power and love are alive on earth and standing in our midst.

Not my eyes, but my heart, began to search for the sign, I knew, God would show me. Many crossed my gaze but were not God’s designated confirmation. However, before long, God’s proof that His leadership, power and love still reign hobbled into my sight.

He was an old man, probably mid 80’s – same age as Moses when called to lead God’s people. His skeleton was bent over in age, yet I unconditionally sensed the backbone of his character was wholly (and Holy) straight. He did not enter the House of his Lord empty handed. Protected within his palms was the priceless treasure God had entrusted to his care – his better half. It was obvious this sweet, life-long partner was but a fraction of the lady that he married; but this groom’s vows were as fervent as when they both first glided down the aisle to become husband and wife.

Long ago, in God’s name, he avowed to protect, lead, guide and be a powerful source of love in his spouse’s for better or for worse. Instinctively, I understood he was a man who humbly made his promise and proudly kept it.

Dementia erases memory, but this man of God was not going to let it blot out the here and now present of God’s presence. He led the love of his life front and center to the throne of God and sat her a stone’s throw from the altar of the rock upon whom their love was rooted.

This bewildered child of God needed constant aid to function. Some might judge her helpless. Instead, I witnessed leadership guiding the lost, power capable of overcoming earthly defeat and love born of God and, regardless of the war against worldly devastation, still flowering on earth.

Suddenly, my mind wondered. Are we looking the wrong places for faith and encouragement that God (and the love of God) still reigns (and rains) on our land, our lives and our loved ones? Quite possibly, the answer is, unfortunately, yes.

This week marks many moments when we will be challenged to decipher between the who’s of man’s controlling power and the WHOSE of God’s calling, power and purpose. They are not one and the same. Victors of a campaign are no substitute for God’s shepherd leading God’s sheep. Shepherds, like the elderly man leading the love of his life, must keep rising up to lead the loves of God’s life.

Walking out of that unfamiliar church, I heard God whisper: I have shown you the core from which, and through which, my leadership, power and love flow. My children are not to sit back and assume worldly, elected officials are bringing heaven to earth. Solely, it is my meager, humble, everyday flock of children whom I’ve commissioned to shepherd the way to bring My souls on earth to heaven.

Driving out of the church parking lot, with a chuckle, I whispered back to God: Since miracles are your forte, could you please change this old gray mare into an apprentice of Your Shepherd?!?!

It was an extremely rare, cold, Fall day in Florida. Shivering from head to toe, I was standing outside the Cancer Center, waiting for my brother’s car to be brought down from the garage. A Grandma-Grandpa couple, leaning on each other, braved the cold and stood beside me. Immediately, they captivated my heart.

The Grandma brought flashbacks of my own Grandma. Her calico farm dress and hand knit sweater could have come out of my Grandma’s armoire. I’m not a betting woman, but I’d wager her nylons were rolled over a garter. There was a pure, of this earth, grace about her. Her husband was bundled in an over-size farm jacket. However, there was not a doubt in my mind that his country britches were suspender adorned. Standing side by side, they were a refreshing breath of life, rooted in sowing and reaping crops of seed-sprouted, soul food nourishment – as opposed to present day manufactured take-out for sole convenience.

Noticing their chilled to the bone bodies, the volunteer doorman walked to their side and suggested they might want to wander about thirty feet and stand under the outdoor heater, while waiting for their vehicle. The Grandma’s eyes popped wide open, and in amazement she declared that while she had once seen this rare invention on TV, she had never seen one in person. She was thrilled and up to the short jaunt to examine the phenomenon in person. Her husband, too frail to walk even one step beyond necessity, released his grip on her arm and told her to go see it for herself. The steel bollard, on which the handicap door switch rested, filled in as his lean on crutch.

My eyes and heart followed Grandma as she ventured into exploring the marvel of this big city, luxury innovation. She was like a youngster visiting a candy store. Awe, amazement and appreciation burst forth from the core of her being. What I take for granted became God granting her the blessing of experiencing the miracle of finding warmth in a very cold world. A tear trickled down my cheek as I realized the true miracle was this Grandma and not the outdoor heater.

Grandma didn’t dally under the heater. That would have been selfish, and she was rooted in selfless. Eager to share her exploration and committed to resume supporting her husband, Grandma quick stepped back to her better half. As she recommenced her support position for her loved one, she exuberantly exclaimed “that contraption makes you downright warm.”. Grimacing in pain, near collapsing in weakness but grateful in heart and soul, the cancer-stricken Grandpa avowed, “everything and everyone at Moffitt makes you warm.”.

No longer do I find myself making weekly trips to Moffitt Cancer Center; but forever, a part of my life’s journey will be warmed by the many children of God who crossed my path during my visits there with my brother. They, each and every one, melted the cold of our world, too often, frozen in ice.