Petal, soft

Snaps from stem

Drifting down



Floating with ease

It pillows to the ground

Not a sound released

still the moment resounds

To one, appears

as a loss of beauty

To the flower, it is clear

A greater room is made

for new blooms to flame

in a small petal’s place

No words need be spoken

No time need tell

God breathed


in a seed

A call

A pealing bell


He says.

And as

the shifting occurs

from a call to a send,

embrace the beginning


from an end.

“Petal” is a poem I wrote today as my baby girl fell asleep in my arms while I looked up at my uninteresting ceiling. The Lord reveals Himself to us in so many ways at unprecedented times. Place your ear to His chest and listen to His heartbeat, be willing to hear His voice. Be expectant. He loves you and has so much good in store for you.

“To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven: A time to be born, And a time to die; A time to plant, And a time to pluck what is planted; A time to kill, And a time to heal; A time to break down, And a time to build up; A time to weep, And a time to laugh; A time to mourn, And a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, And a time to gather stones; A time to embrace, And a time to refrain from embracing; A time to gain, And a time to lose; A time to keep, And a time to throw away; A time to tear, And a time to sew; A time to keep silence, And a time to speak; A time to love, And a time to hate; A time of war, And a time of peace. What profit has the worker from that in which he labors? I have seen the God-given task with which the sons of men are to be occupied. He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also He has put eternity in their hearts, except that no one can find out the work that God does from beginning to end. I know that nothing is better for them than to rejoice, and to do good in their lives, and also that every man should eat and drink and enjoy the good of all his labor—it is the gift of God. I know that whatever God does, It shall be forever. Nothing can be added to it, And nothing taken from it. God does it, that men should fear before Him.” (‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭3:1-14‬ ‭NKJV‬‬)

Be sure and check out this song by Steffany Gretzinger!

Even Rocks Cry

I have spent a great deal of my life not doing what I desire because of fear. Whether that’s fear of inadequacy or a lack of ingenuity. I remember rejecting the color pink as a young girl because that was what all of the other girls liked. The same went for the movie The Cheetah Girls. I wanted to buy the soundtrack to sing the songs at the top of my lungs and wear wild cat printed clothes to school. But then if I let myself enjoy my desires I would be grouped with the other girls. What if they rejected my attempts to be one of them? I was afraid to have something in common with them because they were prettier, smarter, more popular, and I would simply never measure up to them. That’s how I thought. So I decided to like other things, to place the word “outcast” on my forehead and pretend like I didn’t care. I chopped my own hair off and died it brown, drawing comics and playing video games instead of jamming out to High School Musical or shopping at Hollister.

With rebellion came its own pitfalls. I was lonely. I cut myself off from people because of my fear of rejection. I never really even had the chance to be rejected because I had already rejected myself. I sought out the differents, the outcasts. And we were good matches. I found a family in the weirdos. Soon I liked being different. But then being different became its own form of idolatry. I separated myself from everyone, and a certain thrill came with that. Tattoos, piercings, partying, and everything in between. I stopped caring what others thought, but not in the right way. More in a total disregard for self and fear of being hurt if I let anyone near me kind of way. Cold-hearted is the best way to put it. And it all began with fear of rejection.

Still Jesus whispered to me in those places. He told me that He accepts me, that He loves me. And slowly, I accepted His outstretched arm.

“He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.”” Luke‬ ‭19:40‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Because even the rocks will cry out in praise of the Lord. Even the coldest, toughest places within myself will cry to Jesus & He will respond. Praise in the heaviness.

In this slow dance with the Lord, He has begun to spin me around. Together we dance and watch the ashes gently sift off of me as He twirls me in His arms. Simply typing that out brings on the feeling of overwhelmed. What does the beauty within my hidden heart places look like? That Lacey within me feels so sacred, so vulnerable, so precious and easily shattered. Yet I’ve left her imprisoned for some time, both hungry and parched. Slowly Jesus has come and helped me open up the rusted gate inside my heart. With a grinding groan of metal, I pull it open. There she is, wild eyed and frantic. Jesus steps slowly to her with His hands up as if trying to soothe a spooked animal. She relents and takes His hand. He guides her to me and I hesitantly embrace her-embrace myself.

Its a slow dance, but I am accepting me. All of me, just the way Jesus does. No rejection, no fear of man. No longer an outcast, merely set apart, designated for something bigger than myself. Called higher and being sent farther. Jesus and I are peeling back the layers. The beauty beneath is simply breathtaking, and all the glory goes to the Lord.

Have you embraced the inner child lost long ago within your heart, the places turned stone in malnourishment? Jesus has, and He wants a relationship with ALL of you, to bring beauty from the crystallized ashes.

Painting in the Fields

Set down your phone,

push out your chair

and step across the creaky floor

Place your hand on the cold knob

and swing open the back door

Hesitate at the threshold

and squint at the sudden flood of bright

Take a barefoot step into the natural world,

thaw your bones in the sunlight

Release the distractions,

the mock reality

Find your true self in Creation

as you rest from technology

My small-but-fierce family and I just got back from a mini adventure trip in the Oklahoman wilderness. As we drove closer and closer to our destination and further from cement cities, I could practically feel my spirit being freed from my skin to frolic beside our fast-moving car as we wound through the green, gold fields.

My name is Lacey, and it means “frolic”. I always thought that was irrelevant until a few weeks ago, and this adventure really set it in. I was born for this, this freedom in Creation with my Creator. An hour from the small ranch we were heading to and we officially had no cell service. The technology withdrawals took several habitual moments of checking my phone only to find the same “no service” notification at the top left of my screen. Then the freedom took over. Rolling down our windows while driving down the final dirt roads, we were each giddy with excitement and the fresh forest air. Our tires slowly crunched over rock as we pulled up to the crisp green haven. I stretched out my stiff wings for the first time in a while, and planned how I would soak up the solace.

In the mornings we cooked breakfast and played with the kids. We ran around the forest, played ball, swung under a huge pine, swam in the river, hiked, picked pine cones, absorbed all the vitamin D and joy that only nature can provide, enjoyed time with our friends and ate good food.

During my quiet time, I spent a few hours of my afternoons painting. One day in particular I ran with my art supplies in tow down passed the river to an open field I had seen in a vision months ago. The gentle caress of a breeze blowing through the sky high trees was my inhale. The chirping cicadas and songs of birds were my glass of water. The melody of water trickling over the near riverbed was my sound of silence. There was the open field of tall green grass dusted with gold and bordered with the Potato Hills. I sat there in the middle of that field and leaned into Jesus. I began to paint what I saw. Time didn’t exist here, though a distant thought reminded me that I’d have to return to my family soon once the kids woke up from their naps. A small bee buzzed around me in search of a flower. Occasionally little black ants would wander across my folded legs. Still i was encompassed by the beauty of the place i sat and the Creator who created it. Just as sweat began to form on my back, a light drizzle fell from the sky for a few minutes. It was a kiss from Jesus. Every stroke of my brush and mixing of colors was completely refreshing my being. I’ve never felt closer to Jesus and more alive.

My open field painting with Jesus|”Potato Hills”| Summer 2018

I needed that weekend of rest and nature with God and my loved ones. I want to encourage you to set aside time to do the same, even if it’s just putting down your phone and walking out to your backyard. Every moment in nature is significant. Create adventure and journey to rest for your soul with Jesus!

“The Lord is my shepherd;
I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul;
He leads me in the paths of righteousness
For His name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil;
My cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
All the days of my life;
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord
Forever.” (Psalm 23 NKJV)

As I’ve previously mentioned, Finding Spiritual Whitespace by Bonnie Gray is a great book to help walk alongside you as you journey with Jesus to soul rest. I truly can not express just how incredible this book is. You can buy your copy here!

Le Carnival des Animaux

Around and around.

The andante cello carries their gentle, barefoot steps as they skip across the sun-kissed grass. She isn’t sure where the music is coming from, but she sees it in His eyes as He gazes into her own. She can feel the legato piano in the warmth of the high-noon breeze. He is singing to her, and she to Him. Her stomach jumps as if carried by a dozen flitting butterflies. A laugh bounces from her lips, akin to a flute’s spring concerto. This is her element. Here with Him. Her comfort. Her head leans back in the pull of their whirl, and her eyes tilt up with bliss. This moment is all she knows; this dance, all she needs.

This shared breath with Him right now is enough life to fill an eternity.

“Yes, you’re right. I’m here with you”, she hears Him say in response to her thoughts. Or was she so caught up in the moment that she said it out loud? She doesn’t understand, and she doesn’t try to. She just exists in this today with Him. She closes her eyes with divine ecstasy and, in His arms, drifts away.

Around and around, together they sway.

A blur of blue, green and gold outline His face whilst they spin throughout the open field. She smiles at Him as her breath is whisked away. The sweet smell of wildflowers and morning dew wash over them in the electrifying way only nature can. He is captivated by her joy.

“My Beloved.”, He whispers in harmony with a nearby brook gliding over stones. She can hear the smile in His voice as He tenderly speaks her name. This is the purest form of intimacy. Untouched by anything less than true love. Both child and Bride, she finds her authentic identity in His embrace; young and old, she experiences eternity in His presence. Purity and innocence, joy and peace. This is the rawest form of love and she can feel it so tangibly here with Him. He holds her hands and together they spin as the world rapidly swirls around them. He is the barycenter of all creation, and He chooses to dance with her. Humbled in the weight of this truth and confident in the wonder of this love, she remains with Him in the now. And the universe orbits around their dance.

He releases her right hand and she spins out with elation. He pulls her to Him again and together they fall back onto the soft earth. For a moment they lay there surveying the sky in search of animals in the clouds. He laughs, pleased with her creative imagination. She sits up and picks the flowers flaring up around them. He twists them into a crown and rests it atop her head. With knees pulled up to her chest, she closes her eyes in comfortable delight and is radiant. Radiant with the Light of the One sitting cross-legged before her. This is life. This is everything.

She opens her eyes and looks at Him for a moment longer. This time He is gazing at her with a bittersweet, burning truth. He’s trying to relay a message to her. What is He saying? You’re about to go. Go where? She’s unsure what’s happening, but she knows that He wants her to remember this time with Him, this place, this love. He hugs her and in the twinkling of an eye she’s somewhere else. Suddenly she feels stiff, coldness beneath her back where moments before she felt warm ground. The smell of decaying flowers and antiseptic cleaner flood her nostrils. Her eyes are shut and her limbs heavy with fatigue. The whirring of a machine beeps repeatedly to her right, in synch with her thrumming headache. Someone snores softly to her left. Where could she be? Where did He go? She feels the whisper of their dance in the forefront of her mind. She can sense His presence still, even here, though it is all much more cloaked compared to the vibrancy of before. Her brain can’t wrap around the sudden change. What’s going on?

Her heart begins to pound quickly against her chest, and her throat restricts in panic. A door adjacent to her creaks open as heavy steps thud across the floor. The sound of rustling papers and clicking plastic hover beside her. Hesitantly she opens her eyes, and…

[To Be Continued]

It has been on my heart for a while now to begin writing a Christian fiction novel. Literature is a huge part of my life. Growing up, books were my happy place. My escape. Fiction, fantasy, romance, non-fiction, tragedy, historical. You name it, I read it. Cracking open a book has always given me the freedom to learn anything I wanted, to go anywhere I wanted, to be anyone I wanted, and to explore my wildest dreams within crisp pages. Imagination is in my default setting. Now, of course, the series and novels I read growing up did not always point to Christ. In my teenage years, some of the literature I chose to run away in actually led me on a journey further away from Him.

As I have been adventuring with Jesus deeper within myself and farther into His kingdom, He has shown me the truest and purest form of desires within myself that over time have grown to be corrupted by words, circumstances and plots of the enemy. The pure, child-like essence of these desires were placed by God inside me with the intent to bring Him glory. Creative imagination is one of them. So here I am, trying something new and writing a novel out of obedience. Here is a little teaser, and as this is my first book, have a little mercy on me! I don’t have a title yet, but I will share snippets of more periodically every month as the story grows. Stay tuned for more and be blessed in Christ!

This scene is inspired by a vision the Lord gave me last year of myself as a young girl spinning around with Jesus in the open fields. It all began blossoming yesterday afternoon upon hearing one of my favorite classical masterpieces. Close your eyes and see yourself dancing with Jesus as you take a listen to this movements of the classical piece, Les Carnival de Animaux– Saint-Saëns:


Faith Fight

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”    (Hebrews 11:1 NKJV)

Tired and embarrassed, I sat wringing my hands at a grimy school desk damp with Texas humidity in my new community college lecture room. It reeked of teenage angst. I was tired because I had just gotten back from a mission trip, and was not yet accustomed to the time change. And at 19 years old having lived on my own two years prior, I definitely was not used to the nonexistent sleeping schedule of my toddler sibling that I was now sharing a room with. Yes, I was tired.

I was embarrassed. I really messed up my academics the prior semester at the university I was attending and as a result my GPA dropped too low. Because of my own bad choices, academic probation forced me to attend this community college. I didn’t want to be there, but deep down I didn’t want to be in school at all. I wanted to be back in the mission field, doing what I could to further the kingdom of God. Yet I could hear the voices of influential figures from my adolescence commanding me to push my passions into the “elective” section of my life and seek a future that will gain me the most financial success and highest status. I listened to the wrong voices.

So there I sat, unhappy and unsure. I was taking a philosophy class because a close friend that I roomed with during my mission trip was majoring in philosophy and I thought it might be interesting to learn more. I remember the first day of class the professor attacked Christianity. He was an atheist and wanted to shame any of us who didn’t believe what he did. Ironic, isn’t it? My attention was grasped and my heart racing. I didn’t have an opportunity to speak up yet, but over the next few weeks God rolled out a red carpet for me to speak. One day the professor asked those of us who believed in Jesus to raise our hands. My hand shot up as I quickly looked around to see my other classmates uniting with me and Jesus. Except to my shock, only one other person hesitantly raise their hand. Immediately the professor argued that Christianity couldn’t be true because faith isn’t real and there is no evidence that God could be real via the five sense humans have. I remember so clearly his shrill voice, “Can you see God? No! Can you smell God? Can you hear Him? Can you feel Him? Can you taste God?” At his last question, scattered, immature laughter and comments washed over the room. Blood pounded in my ears. The professor smugly crossed his arms in self-absorbed triumph as he leaned against his desk and quickly inhaled in preparation of moving on to another topic. That was my cue.

“I can”, I said a little quietly but firm amidst the chatter.

“Excuse me?”, the professor asked looking at me incredulously. I’ll never forget his facial expression as it dropped in mock confusion, but the truthful fear that only I could see hidden behind pride in his beady eyes. “You can taste God?”, he asked with a creepy smile as the classroom laughed on with him.

“I can. Jesus is the bread of life, I can taste Him and never hunger again. You could too” The professor was not expecting that and I could see his mind reeling for some intelligent response. “I can see Him, He’s here right now.”, I went on while never breaking eye contact with him. “I can smell His sweet aroma on the wind. I can feel Him holding me in the night. I can hear Him speaking to me, we talk every day.”

You. talk to God?”, the professor’s emphasis on “you” and “God” was full of condescending doubt as he asked this final question with less humor and more hateful accusation. As if to say, “You of all people talk to the God of the universe?” His view of the Lord was so pitifully warped, and his lack of self-worth so deeply wounded. I looked at him with sorrow and responded gently, “Yes. I have faith in Jesus. And faith is enough evidence that God is real.” He looked at me a moment longer as though I was a math problem he couldn’t solve, and then he made some joke about my sanity and moved on.

He moved on, but something changed. Not just in me, but in him and in the classroom. As if I had broken through some small crack in his false truth facade. I saw several students regaining some of the confidence they had in their beliefs in Christ, though they didn’t express it outwardly. I could see the fire in their eyes for the same truth I proclaimed. I won’t lie to you, I did walk out of the class feeling like I was crazy.

I talk to God. Am I crazy? Did I really just tell fifty or more strangers, all staring at me, that I could taste God?! I am crazy. I’m weird and this is why I haven’t made friends yet. I’m out of my mind. Couldn’t You have caused an earthquake or something in the class room to prove my case, God?!

There was no glamorous ending to that semester in philosophy class. I actually ended up dropping the class because I found out I was pregnant a few weeks later and was totally wrecked in my first trimester sickness and fatigue. I never saw any fruition from the words I spoke boldly. But here’s what did happen. My faith grew! Though that professor did everything he could to destroy my faith in Christ, sharing my testimony actually increased my faith. And that’s enough.

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”    (Hebrews 11:1 NKJV)

Faith is real, tangible substance for all that we hope for. Faith is the evidence that science demands. Sure, that sounds like nonsense to the logical mind, but the logical mind is nonsense.

“Let no one deceive himself. If anyone among you seems to be wise in this age, let him become a fool that he may become wise. For the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God. For it is written, “He catches the wise in their own craftiness”;”                                        (1 Corin. 3:18-19 NKJV)

God reminded me of that encounter with a philosophy professor this morning because I’m currently experiencing God increasing my faith. Which I would even go so far to say that we always have an opportunity to let God increase our faith, however my eyes are more open to Him working right now than they ever have been. Not just within myself, but also in my life. My family has recently embarked on a journey to follow a dream that was sown in our hearts long ago, and it’s absolutely nerve-wracking. Or it was, until this morning when I remembered what all God has already done. That memory of His faithfulness, His love for us, was enough to cast out all fear.

“He has made His wonderful works to be remembered; The Lord is gracious and full of compassion.”                                                                                                                                      (Psalm 111:4 NKJV)

This was the word God led me to this morning. God has given us the power to remember. We live our lives in first person, we see memories from our eyes. But what if God wants us to start looking at our lives from His eyes? To remember our memories with the story He wrote down in His journal about us? Our memories become new. Our lives become new. It’s time to remember the Lord’s wonderful works, He made them to be remembered because there is power in remembering. But don’t let the power stop within your own heart change, share your testimony of God’s love and faithfulness with the world.

“And they overcame him by the Blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, and they did not love their lives to death.” (Revelation 12:11 NKJV)

I’ll leave you with that and a few thoughts to jot down…

Creative writing with in cracks of time [pull out your journal & pen]

Have you been washed with the Blood of the Lamb, Yeshua Jesus the Messiah?

If you haven’t received Jesus and want to, shoot me a reply at the bottom of this page and I can share with you how He has changed my life.

If you have received the Blood of Jesus then know that you have overcome the enemy, and write down times in your life where God showed up like a super hero to save the day.

Have you shared your testimony? Write down a few times where you did share your faith, and if you never have, write down moments where you felt like you could have. Ask God to show you how you can next time.

There are so many opportunities to share God’s wonderful works in your life. Social media, blogging, vlogging, checking out at the grocery store, etc. Pray for God to open moments for you to share your story, the one Jesus wrote for you, and step out in faith. God will do the rest! Not only do you depend on sharing your testimony for your own walk with God, but others need to hear your testimony to encourage them that they too can overcome the enemy!

Finally, re-read that last part of Revelation 12:11, “and they did not love their lives to death”.

What is God saying to you right now? Write it all down, God is speaking. Write. Remember.


Journey to the Center of Me

Where to begin? I have no elaborate words or visions to share. Though I have indeed had plenty of visions and revelation from the Lord, it’s all so overwhelmingly personal and recent that I’d rather keep them in the treasure chest of my own heart a little longer before I share.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I started reading “Finding Spiritual Whitespace: Awakening Your Soul to Rest” by Bonnie Gray last week. This journey truly has been an awakening of the soul and the first few days back into myself were not pretty. Memories resurfaced and past trauma was relived.

Merriam Webster’s definition of trauma:

“A very difficult or unpleasant experience that causes someone to have mental or emotional problems usually for a long time. medical : a serious injury to a person’s body.”

Trauma is so much more than merely an injury to the body, it can also be a lasting wound on the soul inflicted by words, abuse, experiences, people, self, and so on. Through many different traumatic experiences from childhood up, over the course of life my soul was slowly chipped away into a million little pieces. So many, that after surrendering my life to Jesus in 2014, I just shoved all my broken pieces to the side. I put my “new identity in Christ” label on the pile of rubbish that was my past, walked away, and over time almost went total amnesiac. Not realizing the rotting stems and flowering perverted truths that were springing up from my buried past. Let me just add this, we do become new creations in Christ, and I do not argue that truth. I am a new creation and have a new identity in Christ, but that offers me freedom from my past not stuffing it into a forgotten drawer. Being a new creation in Christ means every part of my mind, every cell in body, every broken piece of myself is intended to be touched by Christ and therefore made new. Needless to say over the course of reading this book, I have explored the depths of my pile of rubbish. Picking through the vast dirty, gut wrenching pieces of myself and every. single. time. Jesus looks at the same dusty, broken piece of me that I keep at arms length and yet He holds my broken piece like an infant, rocks me back and forth, and tells me He loves me..even there. Especially there.

As for the traumatic memories, the ones cutting so deep that I couldn’t even remember them, those the Lord gently brings to the surface of my mind. As I watch, feel, and completely experience these memories in the present time again, the anxiety weighs on me like an elephant sitting on my chest. Heart pounding. Throat constricting. Mind screaming for me to stop. I cry. I curl up in a ball. I feel it all deeply. And then something odd happens. The memory ends, and suddenly I see it replay again only this time Jesus is in my shoes. Jesus takes the words thrown at me, Jesus experiences the pain with me, Jesus receives all the trauma that I did. It feels wrong to watch Him, my perfect Jesus, be in these terrible places. But still He stays no matter how wrong it might feel or how much I wish He didn’t have to see this. He stays put, shows me the holes in His hands, and tells me,

“This is why. I died for this moment. I died to take this from you. I rose again and I want you raise up with me.”

And then the overwhelming reality of the true depths of Christ’s love for me totally shakes me to the core in every single one of those memories…Until finally I can feel warmth spreading. Beginning in my fast beating heart and radiating outward, towards my loosening chest like a knot being untied, releasing the breath I had been holding. Warming down my legs and arms, up my neck and anointing my mind like oil. I am being healed. Thank you, Jesus. I am really, genuinely being healed to the core of my soul. More than just loving me at my darkest, Jesus loves me. All of me, and all of the sudden that feels more real than it ever has before. As Gray puts it,

We are free to remember”

Through Jesus and the words of knowledge from Gray in this book, I finally feel the freedom to remember my past and not shut down or suppress. Freedom to look through my own memories and not fall into depression, bad coping mechanisms, isolation and shame. I can be all of me with Jesus, every broken part restored through His healing touch. And I believe this is the rest for my soul that I’ve needed all along.


I can not recommend this book I referenced “Finding Spiritual Whitespace” by Bonnie Gray enough. It’s worth the trek into finding the real you. Buy it here and begin your own journey to spiritual rest!

Now I would like to take a second and tell you all about an amazing organization that is playing a role in healing people world wide, Starling Box.

“a quarterly nonprofit box of ethical products made by human trafficking survivors and at-risk individuals”

Based in Los Angeles, this organization supports companies that hire human trafficking survivors to create ethical products which you would receive quarterly in your Starling Box, then they donate all of the proceeds to organizations that fight human trafficking. Finally, Starling Box raises awareness on the hard reality of human trafficking and encourage people to buy more ethically. Starling Box will launch their first subscriptions very soon, and you won’t want to miss this opportunity to make an impact! So go check them out via their blog, Instagram and their website!

Love Ballad

“You are not a ‘thing’  to be put aside,

not even just for a night.

No, You are always here.

You are my air;

I breathe You in.

Your goodness, I will proclaim

and I won’t be ashamed

I am my Beloved’s

and He is mine.

Whatever comes against,

My God is for me.

Yes, You adorn me

with Your finest jewels

I surrender all to You.

I live my life for You.

It is the Greatest Love Story;

My God delights in me.

He is my Beloved

and I am His bride.”

– Lacey Sherrard 5/23/18

That ballad is the most recent song of deliverance that God has been continuously singing over me.

You are my hiding place;
You shall preserve me from trouble;
You shall surround me with songs of deliverance. Selah”
 (Psalm 32:7 NKJV)

The truth of who I am in the Kingdom of God doesn’t always reign in my heart, though it should. However in the midst of chaotic thinking, truth does come to the forefront of my mind much quicker than it once did. These words of love have been slowly penetrating my atmosphere over the course of the last few months. As I have began walking out onto deep waters, I have quickly discovered that my identity in Christ is my anchor amidst the rising and falling of the waves. I must know and believe that I am who God says I am every second of every day. Otherwise the lies of the enemy will counter that truth and suddenly I will find myself overwhelmed with toxic thoughts of fear, doubt, and hopelessness. That’s the kind of overwhelmed that keeps me stagnant.

On the contrary, have you ever been overwhelmed by the presence of the Lord? In the midst of worship during Pink Impact 2018 (Christian women’s conference), the Holy Spirit reminded me that I wanted to take my worship to the next level of surrender. He encouraged me to lay myself out onto the floor. Now I’m all about dancing and lifting my hands in worship, but that’s a whole new side of surrender that I had never done. Still I  figured why not do it anyway (Thanks, Lisa Harper )? So I dove head first (my friend’s words, not mine) to the ground in front of all these women. There I laid out with my face in the carpet, and I totally broke. I didn’t even know there was more of myself that could be broken off, but something broke and I lost it forever. Thank you Jesus! In that moment the amount of reverence I experience for the Most High God was overwhelming. His love versus my filth had never been more real. I saw a new depth of the price Jesus paid for my salvation. I saw a little clearer just how much love He has, though still not even close to the heights and depths of it all. My physical body was struggling even to breathe as I looked upon the Holy Lord. It was like diving off of a cliff into the ocean, and suddenly learning how to breathe the water instead of air. Intense.

I say that not to boast in me, but to boast in Christ! He is way more amazing, way more loving, way more EVERYTHING than we can even fathom. That’s the kind of overwhelmed I want to be. Not overwhelmed by the meaningless minute daily tasks, or the mental flood of lies, but completely consumed by JESUS! So hold every though captive that goes against Jesus. Obey every uncomfortable calling you hear God speak for you. Love unhindered. Set the world on fire with your Jesus flame.

That ballad of truth is keeping me burning with the Holy Spirit fire. The gospel truth tells us that we are the Bride of Christ, He loves us and He delivers us because He delights in us. Once you know who you really are, the game is over because the truth sets you FREE!

” Then Jesus said to those Jews who believed Him, “If you abide in My word, you are My disciples indeed.  And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” They answered Him, “We are Abraham’s descendants, and have never been in bondage to anyone. How can You say, ‘You will be made free’?” Jesus answered them, “Most assuredly, I say to you, whoever commits sin is a slave of sin. And a slave does not abide in the house forever, but a son abides forever. Therefore if the Son makes you free, you shall be free indeed.” (John 8:31-36 NKJV)


Don’t forget to check out my new worship YouTube channel: laceingrace (click for the link) and SUBSCRIBE! The channel is all about my love for God and His love for me. If I get 50 subscribers by THIS FRIDAY (5/25/18) I will post a video singing with my two little kiddies and you won’t want to miss that!