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:


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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.


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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.

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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!

http://www.starlingbox.org