Let me introduce you to my first book, God’s Big Ask.

Walls crumble. Disappointments repeat. Pain becomes too close a friend. In our weariness, we struggle to embrace God’s direction because we feel as though He asks too much, given our current circumstances.

Clouded.
Head and heart weighty,
Burdened by the murky.
Trouble descends.
Tears take residence.

Currently, I have no words.

In this void, every syllable seems trivial. The formation of letters to words takes too much effort. The capturing of language is too difficult because I do not know what to say. I am not even sure how I completely feel.

Remember when you would ask something of your dad when you were young? Sometimes the answer would be, “Go ask your mom.” You would saunter off to find mom and upon asking the same question, you would hear the response, “Go ask your dad.” 

Confusion and frustration would set in as you thought, “Why can’t someone just answer my question?”

Words do not always seem enough, but often It is how we try to make sense of what is. Consonants and vowels blended together To form expressions for what we have to weather. 

I am re-learning how to anticipate. That may sound weird but after the last two years where I marinated in disappointment, anticipation has not come easy to me. To anticipate means to look forward, to expect, to respond to something beforehand.

    I laughed because gray hair was now a possibility for me; it was no longer this foreign concept that alluded me. I like the fact that God is essentially declaring that He isn’t absent in our old age; however, I couldn’t help but wonder, “Why doesn’t God rescue us from growing old?”

All adults ask the question and all adults have the question asked of them, “What do you do?”    Initially, this question seems trivial, passive, and non-threatening. Under greater analysis though, we can see how this curiosity may create angst in the responder.

If we are not purposeful, the powerful story of Easter can wither into a whisper. Maybe we have heard it on repeat since childhood and we struggle to find anything new to anchor to. Maybe the story has become basic because we have had to scale it down for little eyes and ears.

As a born-again Christian, I have always known of God’s grace and goodness, but I didn’t slow down and take time to be with Him when I was healthy and strong. I took God for granted. Even after my husband had survived three heart attacks with God’s mercy and healing hand over him, I found that I shelved the mercy of His miracles.