Uplifted in a Broken Down World

2024 has been a rough season. Looking at the world, this statement most likely burns deep in many other lives. Broken hearts, broken spirits and broken dreams rain on the lives of many of God’s children. Past couple of weeks, I’ve found myself asking God to stop all the breaking. His response has not been to instantaneously stop the breaking of my heart; but rather, to yield His wisdom through one additional break. God broke my way of thinking. Cutting deep to my core, God sent me a newsflash announcing, “Satan breaks; God reassembles”. Though a struggle, I pulled this apart in hope of putting my life back together. Praise God, His wisdom was revealed and turned into the adhesive bond my heart and soul are seeking.

It is Satan, not God, who shreds our lives, our families and our dreams. Satan’s goal is to break all that is good, and of God, into pieces. The devil desires our fragmented scraps to forever remain in ruin. Breaking is an end goal for Satan. God never breaks. He allows only disassemblement. There is magnanimous difference between break and disassemble. Understanding this polar-opposite reality is the glue that seals a Christian life in faith and hope.

A break destroys. Disassemble takes something apart and allows the splinters to be reconfigured into a better, stronger and even more beautiful entity. Satan breaks to tear down, demolish and end. God allows disassembly so the dismantled pieces can be re-birthed into wisdom and a new beginning. Blame Satan for the broken pieces of our lives. Praise God that He is waiting to guide us toward reassembling our lives into better accord, so we might love mightier and rejoice gratefully in the blessing of His will and way re-cementing our lives.

Once we collapse in broken pieces, what are we to do? Two choices are ours to make. Either, we can solely see the ruin, blame others for the destruction and remain surrounded in shattered hopes and dreams; or we can “soul”y choose to see with God’s insight. We can let go of blame and anger and cling to allowing God’s lead and guidance help reassemble our lives into a better reflection of the image of Christ. Herein, lies God’s miracle of broken pieces being turned into new and greater creations.

We can choose between the blame game or the name game. The blame game is to fault God, or His children, for the wrong that occurred and resulted in the broken pieces of our lives. The name game is to bring our splintered fragments to God; place them in His hands and beg Him to reassemble, in the name of Jesus Christ, our brokenness, so we better reflect God’s will, way, forgiveness and redemption.

Don’t know about you, but my life is drowning right now in the sea of broken pieces. God handed me His life saver 2,024 years ago on Mt, Calvary. It’s more than time for me to, once and for all, sever Satan’s brokenness and tether my life to God’s reassembly line. My hope and prayer are all my family and extended sisters and brothers in Christ join me in this restoration of the broken pieces of our lives.

When a soldier marches into battle, where are his treasures? This is the question God placed in my soul when I asked Him how I might best help His little (and big) children learn it’s not the size of their toy box but the gift of invisible love that is their most valuable treasure. My initial response was “God, isn’t this apples and oranges? God retorted back “Nope, it’s the fruit of all wisdom”.

After deeper thought, I sensed God’s message and meaning. We can line up, display and even flaunt the ownership of all our physical assets, but are they really everlasting, never leaving treasures? Can they uphold us as we climb the mountains in our lives? Will they even sparkle when we are thrust into our darkest moments? Don’t they often become burdensome baggage we can’t carry with us, so we leave them behind?

A soldier, going off to war, must lay down all his nonessential riches and pick up the call of duty. What matters most to him can solely (and “soul”y) be carried in his heart. The strength to march forward comes only from the mighty weapon of looking in. The mightiest of warriors look into their soul to discover the faith and hope in God that is needed to fight all wars. To find inner peace and direction to march into the unknown, the greatest of soldiers look into their hearts to become armored in their treasure trove -the present of loved ones’ forever presence.

Material possessions come and go. The irony of cherishing them as wealth is that, most often, their importance and value becomes a fleeting worth. Frequently, we forget or outgrow tomorrow what we feel we can’t live without today. Shouldn’t we, therefore, guide all God’s children to stop looking through store windows to find their treasures and start looking into their hearts and discover blessings money can’t buy, and the world can’t take away?

God’s message to me was plain and simple. No matter how young or old a child of God may be, teach them to see their hearts as the suitcase that carries their most cherished treasures. Let us not forget children learn what they live. Thus, to better guide our children, maybe we grown-ups need to more deeply reflect on, and be reflective of, a soldier marching into war.

I am fully, completely and totally aware of one thing that I am not. Just ask my eldest grandchild, as well as my grown children. This Grammy/Mom is not anywhere near perfect. She makes mistakes. The flaws that my five-year-old grandson picks up on and reminds me of are somewhat comical. Ga’s Ga, you turned at the wrong street. GaGa, better let me fetch your racecar cause you are too slow getting up from the floor. GaGa, that’s not how Mommy fixes my yogurt. GaGa, Daddy gives me OOT’s (dessert) for lunch, too. Etc., etc., etc.,. My children’s reminders are not so comical but, none the less, accurate.

The significant issue is not my many mistakes but rather if my grandchildren, children and I, myself, learn from them. A pie-in-the-sky goal is for me to stop making mistakes. I’m human!! My down to earth hope is that my mistakes lead my family not to misstep in the same manner as I. For you see, I’m of the conviction that my mistakes, not my successes, can be my loved ones’ greatest lesson tool.

Somehow the present-day world seems under the delusion that humans are perfect and not that this crown rests on God alone. Society falsely believes our mistakes are to be ignored or, at least, covered up. Our planet teaches that one should never believe, admit or proclaim to be anything but perfect. This is the Twenty-First Century’s mantra for success, but should it be?

How can family be there for each other, when need is greatest, if mistakes are to be hidden? Children of God cannot love unconditionally if the condition under which they love is perfection. Whether we admit it or not, each and every human being is imperfect. Simply spoken, we are all sinners making mistakes.

In my heart, I desire my successes to inspire my family. In my soul, I long for my mistakes to be the perspiration my family sheds to learn from me. May they labor not to fall prey to my downfalls. Additionally, I yearn for them to cling to the truth that God forgives all mistakes, and family is called to love and grow through each and every one.

To the world, successes define us; but to God mistakes grow us, mature us and refine us. May we all take time to ponder if possibly one of the greatest successes we can own is to own up to our mistakes and work on correcting them as an example for those God most calls us to guide — our grandchildren and children.

The saying goes, “the road to hell is paved with good intentions”. To this aphorism I’d like to personally add, “it’s not climbing a mountain if you hire a helicopter to drop you off on its peak”. Though intention might be great, aren’t the truths of these maxims the negative reality our world is drowning in today?

The good intentions of not wanting one’s family young people to struggle or go without as much as they did has led so many to deliver on a silver platter the rewards for which they had to soil and toil. A significant majority have wanted their descendants to escape the challenges they had to fight and overcome. Looking at today’s aftermath, we have to wonder and worry if this was good wisdom or bad folly.

It can be argued that success given, but not earned, is not success at all. It is undeserved merit even if it is in the hands of deserving recipients. A $70,000.00 car, freely handed over to a sixteen-year-old, has to that individual only a fraction of the value a $700.00 old beater truck has to a teenager who, himself, earned every penny necessary to secure his treasured set of wheels.

In present day culture, where the vast majority of parents want their children to escape the hardships under which they were burdened, there are diverse opinions as to whether this is prudent or inadvisable. Man can (and does) argue the pros and cons of both sides of this coin. So how do we decipher the better of the two choices? Maybe we should navigate this dilemma by going back to where God calls all Christians to seek and find His wisdom and answers — the Bible.

Within the pages of God’s Word are both hidden and exposed solutions and “soul”utions for all our knowns and unknowns. What insight might be garnered concerning a relentless climb versus the escape of difficulty per a helicopter drop off? For me, personally, one stares me in the face.

Jesus never escaped. He, instead, relied on God’s power and strength to endure and get through all trials and tribulations. Jesus Father’s continual presence and love enabled His son to get through all both heaven and hell put before Him; but God never removed any negative from Christ’s personal journey on earth. Why??? I believe because God knew the greatest success comes by winning a battle not by escaping it.

Let us remember Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane. “And going a little farther He fell on His face and prayed, saying ‘My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me; nonetheless, not as I will, but as You will’.” Matthew 26: 39 (ESV) “Again for the second time, He went away and prayed, ‘My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, Your will be done’.” Matthew 26:42 (ESV) “So leaving them again, He went away and prayed for a third time, saying the same words again.” Matthew 26: 44 (ESV)

Three times Christ asked His parent, God Almighty, to allow Him to escape the greatest challenge facing Him. So why do we not follow God’s example? Why are we human parents so prone to giving in to our children’s whining, repeated requests? Has God’s show of response to repeated requests totally flown over our heads?

Why do you think God did not remove the challenge facing His Son? Most likely, God didn’t do so because only through this challenge having been met and won could Christ fulfill the purpose of His worldly life. What about the children we call ours? Though on a much lesser scale than Jesus, do we as parents rob our sons and daughters of learning and experiencing fortitude, strength, purpose and conquering tribulations by doing as God did not — removing all struggle from their lives?

Could it be that we need to start following in our Father God’s footsteps and stop removing challenges from our children’s paths? Maybe, instead, we need to begin teaching our young people our presence (not our presents) is always with them and that through overcoming their challenges they can, and will, best become who, and achieve what, God created them to be and do.

Raven Feather, my daughter’s beloved Appaloosa mare, now romps the grounds of Heaven. To say the least, Raven, her entire life on earth and beyond, communicates much wisdom and deep love to her entire human clan. Without question, Raven did (and does) lavish sage insight and, at times, comical relief when most needed by her two footed family. Even the paradise of Heaven’s grasslands hasn’t strayed this mare from caring about her family. Take for instance last night.

It’s been a mountainous season for all my kin. Some mountains produce blessings. Others seem the opposite. Our family bag has been a mixture of both. However, undisputable fact is that all mountains give rise to stress, exhaustion and the need to regenerate. When rapid fire mountainous paths bombard, more often than naught, automatic focus and survival become a nonstop, pigeonhole, climbing skirmish. Thus, it’s no surprise Raven Feather needed to redirect her family’s mountain range battle plans.

The heart of Raven’s tidings was, in her own whinny, “You need to take time to walk in green pastures, not just climb mountains”. Let’s ponder these words.

Satan has submerged 2024 in myriads of worldly mountains, continually blocking our heaven bound trails. One after the other, we embark on ascending each and every mountain believing that, in so doing, we are following God’s course for our journey. But are we??? Does God command us to mountains or call us to green pastures??? What’s more, if God has truly called us to a mountain, is our strength to surmount it fueled by our capability of physical endurance, or by God’s gift of spiritual rest in Him and Him alone??? Physical endurance is beating the opposition. Spiritual rest is retreating into unbeatable power — the arms of God.

Even non-Christians can quote the beginning of Psalm 23. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures.” Christians are called not just to quote but also to personify. Do we??? Are we too attached to climbing on our feet to be able to lie down in God’s strength, detach from our own efforts and fasten our challenges, needing to be surmounted, to the power of God??? Is the rock before us or the green pastures beneath us our fueling (and re-fueling) source??? Is our purpose (and, most importantly, God’s purpose for us) seeded, rooted and blossomed by climbing stone or by reclining in green pastures???

The message of Raven’s neigh was directly communicated for Britt, but drops of Raven’s whinny sagely spray over the needs of all my family herd — most likely yours, too!!!

Not a chorus of paragraphs do I write this week. Instead, I feel led to share but a short page — with hopes it leads you, yourself, to compose and ponder your own thoughts.

How often, we all look into the mirror of the past. We long for what used to be. Desiring a return to normalcy and a safer world, most often, circulate nostalgia throughout our blood and bones. But we can’t go back. We must go forward. However, blessings of yesteryear can (and must) pave the way to the future and purpose God created each of us to fill and fulfill.

Gazing into the window of the future, there are so many hazy images. Minds calculate which are to become fact. Hearts wonder will love overcome hate. Souls understand, no matter what, destiny remains heaven bound.

Our humanity cannot foretell the future. Christian security is rooted in believing God does know all that lies ahead. Our Heavenly Father holds all answers and will solve our questions when He deems the moment is at hand. Till then, beneath our feet is the quest to walk the path and climb the mountains God allows before us. In our hands rests God’s charge of turning, re-turning and returning to, the pages of His Word to seek and find His guiding wisdom for ALL times. Within our hearts and souls are rooted the love and hope to follow faithfully wherever God leads.

Is our future really so uncertain? Or is it fully affirmed to be guided and guarded by the One Power who controls all, conquers all and has (and will) never be defeated?

Let us not fear evil destruction but safely rest in Almighty Power and Resurrection.

Forever, I am a daddy’s girl. No greater gift, position or blessing have I cherished as much as being my Dad’s little girl. This distinction came with many perks, including being Dad’s sidekick. One such special “duo-day’s” treasure came with both a worldly and heavenly lesson.

Long story short, high school was not a local event for me. This window of my education was over an hour’s drive from my home’s front door. However, it was never a negative. Quite the opposite, it was minute by minute, year in and year out, positively the best part of my life. I got to ride with my Dad as he daily maneuvered the way to his cross-city office – via a nearby, drop off, pit stop at my high school.

Many a day on the way to or fro, we’d detour into Chicago’s downtown for Dad to check on a problem or progress at a landmark building the company he led was erecting. Dad was an electrical contracting genius, who gave rise to many of Chicago’s tallest structures. However, it was not the height of a building but the depth of its integrity that founded and grounded my Dad’s contribution to the city’s skyline.

The first time we’d stop by a site, floors weren’t stacking. Only dirt was piling up from huge holes being excavated. My Dad explained to me that the most important fundamental for rising high is to dig deep and cement your foundation in the soil (and soul) of the core of your life’s blueprint. When a skyscraper was near finished, and I stood by my Dad’s side high above the ground, he would instruct me that the greatest of life’s feared free falls is when one places themself high above others, looks down and sees all others as tiny mini people unable to be distinguished as the unique and gifted individuals needed to bring occupancy and fruition to human plans and divine resurrection.

One cold winter night, we were late starting back home and needed to make a downtown stop at a nearly completed superstructure high rise. I had a lot of homework to do and wanted to stay in the car and get it underway. My Dad must have known the wisdom I most needed to discover was not bound in a book but found with a look. He nixed my stay-in-car idea. Though a tad bit reluctant, I knew better than to second guess my Dad.

As Dad was going over a blueprint with the foreman, there I was gazing over the city’s lights from a penthouse window. Wow, it was a breathtaking sight. Blazing glitter everywhere, I felt I was suspended amidst the stars. Walking over to me, Dad announced time to head home. Engulfed in awe, I told him this must be just like the view from heaven. Without a moment of hesitation, my Dad uprooted my worldly misconception and seeded soul deep reflection.

Dad’s wisdom informed me that the view from heaven is not a penthouse field of vision. Much the opposite, the view from heaven is atop a very steep and treacherous mountain. One gets to heaven not by riding a fast elevator but by climbing over life’s challenges, step by step. It’s not a smooth ascent but only achieved by overcoming the stumbling rocks of occasional rough descents Satan strews across one’s path to heaven.

Dad concluded by commencing profound wisdom in my mind, heart and soul. He shared it was up to me if I set my life on a course to end up with a penthouse view or set my heart and soul on a path to reach heaven’s mountain top view.

My Dad has reached heaven’s mountaintop view. I pray that from heaven, he’s looking down and seeing his daddy’s girl following in the footsteps he left behind to guide me.

It was condo move out day, but not before an afternoon of appointments at the cancer center. My brother’s bone marrow transplant, for the second time in a month, was halted. His blood was not within the parameters needed to move forward. Intervention chemo must first be done. Thus, he was leaving the rented, local condo needed for a transplant and going to commute from his home for weekly appointments. The mood that morning was not even bittersweet. It was bitter and sour.

As my sister-in-love and I were packing up last minute odds and ends, my brother let out a holler. From his tone, there wasn’t a doubt that all was not well. Charging into the bedroom, we encountered both my brother’s weak body and his nondisabled dismay. Truth be told, my brother looked comical. My sister-in-love and I knew better than to laugh. There stood my brother, out of PJs for the first time in a week, gripping his humongous shorts with one hand and shaking his other fist at me. Seeing me, he yelled “You stole my belt. How am I to keep my shorts up? I want my belt back.”.

Let me offer some clarification. One week prior, my brother, his back throbbing in pain from a bone marrow biopsy, attempted to garner enough strength to stand for a lumbar spine X-ray. My having lost the pre-appointment battle to get him to wear athletic shorts, there he was garbed in cargo shorts with metal buttons and zipper, not one but two wallets and a half pound phone case stowed away in his pockets. Completing his ensemble was a heavy weight, extra wide leather belt with a buckle that would make a WWE wrestler proud. Need I remind you; his back was in unbearable pain?

The X-ray tech looked at my brother and, ever so kindly, informed him he had two choices – privately change into a hospital gown or publicly drop his britches. Choosing the later in an attempt to do the least painful maneuver, the tech and I eased my sibling from the wheelchair. Let me just say, before the X-ray was completed, my brother’s feet got tangled in his cargo shorts; and he and the arm of the X-ray machine slid down to the floor.

As the tech pulled my brother up, I liberated his feet from his shorts. During the process, I stowed the wallets, phone and case and belt in a hospital bag. I announced that not until he returned to health would the phone case and belt return to him. The wallets and phone were negotiable.

Back to the appointment at hand and my brother correctly reminding me that I did, indeed, steal his belt. Honestly, the belt was long gone. I couldn’t have returned it even if I had wanted to; and, yes, I knew fully well that the term “thief” was applicable to me. However, instinctively, instead of apologizing to my brother, I sought bartering with God. It was a “Thou shalt not steal; but, uh, God, can’t we negotiate just this once” moment. Long story short, God’s reaction was to table this discussion and bring a more pertinent ruling to my awareness.

My brother’s continuing to accuse me of helping myself to his possessions, brought my attention back to the issue at hand – his needing to be decently clothed for his afternoon at the cancer center. My rectification for my thievery was simple. There was a strip mall about a mile from the rented condo. I, also, had time to run out and solve the problem. My brother shouted, “Good, get a 36-inch belt”. I squawked back “Nope, I’m getting smaller shorts”. Under my breath, I mumbled “with a draw string”.

On my drive to the store, I rejoined God in conversation. I told Him there was only one franchise store in that strip mall carrying men’s clothing. I needed His “can do any and every thing” power. My request was simply: “Please, please, please, help me find shorts my brother will like that are fashionable, light weight, draw string waist and zipper front, numerous cargo pockets with one designed with a hidden zipper for a cell phone, and in a size 36. Oh, and could they also come in three different colors, so this will be a one trip mission to adequately update my brother’s wardrobe.”.

Confident in God’s power, I entered the store thinking my pursuit would be a two-minute stroll. It was a twenty-minute, obstacle course marathon. Literally, I scoured every nook and cranny as well as rack and stack within the shop. Only after rummaging the store from top to bottom did my mitts latch on to the absolute “all requirements present” pair of shorts. God came through as my soul knew he would. My brother would be happy, and he would be comfortably hassle free in his attire. I was elated. However, in complete disclosure, God didn’t share my elation.

Driving back to the condo, I resumed my convo with God. Gratitude filled my words as I rambled on how perfect a garment He had materialized. Prone not to know when to shut my mouth, I did go on to admit a little regret that God sent only one pair and not the three colors I had specifically requested. This cracked a slight opening for God to fully unfold a lesson far beyond finding a pair of shorts. God jumped on my disappointment with His patient “Let Me open your eyes to what you seem blind to see” enlightenment.

I wanted three colors. God labeled this as whip cream and a cherry. He gave the necessity of what was needed. A life and death battle is going on. Step by step, faithfully, God is dealing with and providing the necessities. Why then do I bemoan there is no whip cream and a cherry? Why had I lost focus on being blessed with receiving from God, bit by bit, what is necessary to faithfully keep fighting this worldly battle? God is not throwing a party topped off with whip cream and a cherry. He is in the trenches, right next to my brother, giving what is needed moment to moment and sustaining his life against all worldly attacks.

What’s more, God is doing the same for you as you confront and fight your battle. Most likely, you too aren’t getting whip cream and a cherry; but just like my brother, God is with you and sustaining you with the step-by-step necessities to fight your battle and, one way or the other, to defeat Satan, the true enemy attacking all God’s children. No longer do I ask God for wants. Instead, I thank Him for giving what is needed, exactly when it is needed.

In my present season, life doesn’t seem separated into days, weeks and months. It’s one nonstop time of both good and bad challenges. Challenges need discernment and decisions, of which neither, currently, seems innately obvious. In honesty, about the only fact to which I’m moored is, ironically, being adrift in the coming and going of quagmire after quagmire. My guess is you, probably, understand this. Wouldn’t be surprised if, in this regard, our lives are running parallel. It seems as if being lost in unsureness is today’s prevailing definition of life on planet earth.

Well, maybe this is man’s universal description, but God sure let me know His is otherwise. His correction and enlightenment are what I desire to share.

Worn and questioning the best way forward, I’ve found myself telling God how directionally lost I feel right now. In answer, God sent the “right on” direction that it’s easy to feel lost when I choose to go round and round in circles. I need to go back to God’s “B”asic “I”nstruction “B”efore “L”eaving “E”arth (BIBLE) to get out of the traffic circle and onto the straightaway navigated by the only true compass — my Heavenly Father.

This understood, I next requested a road map leading me out of feeling lost in worldly uncertainty. God’s answer was a question. Why was I travelling the pothole, manmade roads of destruction instead of letting God carry me over the construction of His New Covenant bridge of Redemption and, therefore, released from worldly woes?

God saved His deepest message for me (and you) till later that night. As I was unpacking from a disaster of a leg of a current journey, I was trying to stuff a pile of my earthly belongings into a little cubby. Something in the nook space was preventing me from sliding in my stack of material possessions. Tired and impatient, I pulled out what I wanted to push in, and my hand shopped around for the, so thought, “obstacle” preventing me from accomplishing the task.

I fished out what only God could have baited this lesson with. I had never before seen the object, nor had I any recollection, whatsoever, of it ever belonging to me or anyone else. With a tear trickling down my cheek, I knew it was a gift from God — given to, and received by, me. What was this newly discovered treasure now resting in my hands, heart and soul? It was a cardboard square, highlighted with the word FOUND and adorned with a lamb and heart hanging from a silver chain.

I am not lost in the world. I AM FOUND BY, AND IN, GOD. So are you. “The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want.” Psalm 23:1 (ESV)

My head hit the pillow last night with one “soul”itary plea. “Lord, take the steering wheel; chart the course, and lead the way. With peace, I slept while God rested and renewed me.

Waking early, one more imploration headed to God’s ear. “I need a sign. Yours must be today’s voice– the message, please.”

First, came my walk. Inspirational music blasting from my earbuds refueled my body, heart and soul; but the day’s roadmap still eluded me. I repeated, “Lord, I need Your sign”.

Next on the agenda was walking my brother’s and sister-in-love’s four-legged family. Soon as I took leashes in hand, the two pups fled to their owner’s sides. They didn’t need to bark up a storm to let me know I was not their choice to lead the way. I quipped to God, “See, even the dogs know I’m lacking ‘leader of the pack’ skills. I really need a sign”.

After my arms getting an aerobic workout pulling and tugging Gibbs and Buttercup outside, I compromised the goal of a walk for the necessity of a pit stop. Just beyond the condo door was a large patch of deep dark mulch. Any port in a storm, so I concluded getting them there was all I (and they) could manage.

To Gibbs and Buttercup, loyalty and love were their greatest gifts to offer. So, why was I separating them from their master and mistress who, at the moment, direly needed their loyalty and love. I envisioned a parallel. When our greatest setbacks or defeats strike, one of Satan’s most luring deceptions is to influence our feeling of separation from God, our greatest and most needed source of loyalty and love. At that moment, I questioned if I unknowingly might be mirroring the devil a tidbit. Here I was, in a time of setback, pulling Gibbs and Buttercup away from Nick and Suzanne. I decided my intentions were good. My timing was awful. Instantly, I did an about face. No more tugging in the wrong direction. We headed back to secure all in loyalty and love; BUT NOT BEFORE GOD SENT HIS SIGN.

At my feet rested a lone, pure, white rock. How had I not seen it before? I sensed a heavenly whisper, “Maybe, it just now was placed!?!?”. The pad of mulch I had dragged the pups to was deep, dark and dense — much like the current moment. Yet, there in its midst was an unblemished rock the size of my palm.

Picking the rock up, I noticed though a shiny bright white on top, its underneath was mired with the black mess it was sitting in — so seemed life right now. However, soon as I picked it up, the dirt fell off its surface. I was amazed and wondered how anything could remain such a pure white while surrounded in a wet, filthy mound of debris? Again, I heard a whisper. “My child, the world beneath your feet so often rests in nightmares, but I am always above you and protecting you from its bleak blackness. My promise is to snatch you out of all worldly dirt. No matter how dark the place in which you are standing, crawling or kneeling in prayer, My presence is there with you, waiting to be your rock.

The world we live in may be mud and slime, but regardless of the mess, we are created to, none the less, shine forth the contrast of God’s pure, white, redemptive loyalty and love. No matter the darkness beneath our feet and defeats, God’s loyalty and love never disappears. God gets down in the mulch with us. No mess is too dirty, or deep, for Him not to show up and stay. We only need to cling to Him. You better believe, I squeezed that lone, white rock in my hand and carried it inside both the condo and my soul.