Our daughter has polka-dotted sheets and a polka-dotted pillow case.

I never imagined those polka dots would turn into spiders to her when the sun went down.

She awakens screaming in the middle of the night, and I run and find her shrinking back in fear from her pillow, her arms held close to her trembling body.

I turn on the lights and the spiders turn back into polka dots. We drape a blanket over her pillow to hide them, then return the room to night. I snuggle beside her as her sobs gradually still.

“Can I pray for you?” I whisper.

“Say Dear God, Mama,” she whispers back.

This is her way of asking me to avoid the customary Now I lay me down to sleep and instead use words from the heart for this particular situation.

With my arms around her I ask the God who never slumbers nor sleeps to calm her fears so she can. I ask Him to give my three-year-old the understanding that He is with her and helps her face the spiders in the night.

There is no fear in the presence of God. Perfect love casts out all fear.

She stills then and her breathing becomes deep and even.

And I think about my own polka dots that turn into spiders in the middle of the night. Those fears that creep over me and threaten to strangle me in darkness. Fears about stepping out and taking risks and following God in ways I never have before. Fears about the unknown and the response of people and my own overwhelming inability.

But then the Light of the world steps in and floods my night with His glory and all fears vanish.

I have been asked to speak.

I’ve done it before – not often – but have certainly walked through open doors on wobbly knees with a stomach full of butterflies to speak to crowds.

I’ve been stretched, gone beyond my comfort zone, and in fact, have done the very thing I was now being asked to do again, although in another setting.

But this time was different. I was terrified. This time was too much, too far – almost in the realm of impossibility.

I can’t. I repeated it again and again to my husband. I simply can’t. He said I could. He even said I should.  

Too scared that God would say yes, I refused to pray about it. Then it would be a matter of obedience. If I didn’t ask, it wouldn’t be disobedience if I didn’t do it… right?

It was Saturday night and we were driving home, kids asleep in the back and the world draped in darkness. He broached the topic.

“I think you should – you have to. God has opened a door.”

Shaking my head in the darkness and staring up into the starry sky I whispered, “I really don’t think I can.”

Sunday morning dawned and I dared to mumble a quick prayer – a few sentences asking God to confirm His will. Should I step out in faith even though my knees are knocking? Should I take the risk while filled with fear? Should I say yes? I specifically asked if He would confirm His will during church that morning.

(Please say no.)

An hour later I was seated comfortably in church. Lesson learned: Never get too comfortable in church. 

I knew the sermon topic for this particular Sunday. I had seen the outline. I had even prepared a study guide for people to dig deeper into the text. But I wasn’t prepared for how the Holy Spirit would apply it to my situation.

The top of the outline read Confidence From Being With Jesus.

Happily taking notes as the pastor spoke, I still hadn’t connected the dots.

It was then my husband nudged me and smiled. Simultaneously the Holy Spirit nudged my spirit.

I looked down at my notes – pen halted in the middle of the word: confiden…

Confidence to speak the word with boldness comes from spending time with Jesus.

Speak the Word with boldness. I’d been asked to speak… the Word.

Really, the neon sign can’t get mich clearer than that. 

Her words came back to me and I too wanted to head for the back door of the church.

I don’t have theological training for the task and I am basically uneducated, but I do have one qualification for ministry: I have spent time with Jesus.

Now as they observed the confidence of Peter and John and understood that they were uneducated and untrained men, they were amazed, and began to recognize them as having been with Jesus. Acts 4:13 (NASB)

 

 And so I said yes.

I don’t want to let Fear muddy up the clear waters of faith. Emily Freeman, Chatting At The Sky

 

I still don’t know if I can. But I do know that my confidence is found only in Him.

For You are my hope: O Lord God, You are my confidence from my youth. Psalm 71:5 (NASB)

 

And when they had prayed, the place where they had gathered together was shaken, and they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak the word of God with boldness. Acts 4:31

I wake at 4:19 a.m.

The world is dark and sleeping outside my window.

Knowing it’s simply one of those times I won’t be able to fall asleep again, my thoughts turn to Him.

I talk to Him silently while the clock creeps towards morning.

I wonder…

Does the God of the universe – Maker of heaven and earth – listen to the thought-prayers of one tiny person in one tiny house in one tiny town on one tiny planet in the midst of one of millions of known galaxies in the middle of the night?

You understand my thoughts from afar… Even before there is a word on my tongue, Behold, O Lord, You know it all.  Psalm 139:1c,4 (NASB)

 

Then the wonder of it all nearly overwhelms me. He IS listening.

My thoughts are silenced in awe.

He reminds me then of where it says in Scripture that His Spirit within me knows the thoughts of God.

For who among men knows the thoughts of a man except the man’s spirit within him? In the same way no one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God. We have not received the spirit of the world but the Spirit who is from God, that we may understand what God has freely given us. 1 Corinthians 2:11-12 (NIV)

 

The wonder that He knows my thoughts is almost more than I can fathom!

But that I can know His? Unbelievable!

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. Psalm 139:6 (NIV)

 

The clock reads 4:47 a.m. and I wonder what exactly His thoughts are towards me.

How precious are your thoughts about me, O God! They are innumerable! I can’t even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand! And when I wake up in the morning, you are still with me! Psalm 139:17-18 (NLT)

 

I lay there in awe of the truth of the Word and how it teaches me even through the night.

I will bless the LORD who guides me; even at night my heart instructs me. Psalm 16:7 (NLT)

 

Well before the alarm sounds I get up, anxious to see these words in print as I meet with Him. Anxious to ask Him what His thoughts are towards me.

Photo credit: Louie Giglio, Indescribable

For one whole year I’ve been tapping keys and stringing together words in this space.

356 days and 279 posts later I wonder what I’ve accomplished. How has blogging changed me? How has it impacted you? How has God been glorified?

Writing – to me – is sitting at the feet of Jesus.

This has always been a space of re-living my experiences through the written word. Writing is a way for me to see God in the midst of my ordinary life. By sorting it all out, writing it down, and then seeing it in print, I understand the lessons He is teaching me more clearly, and am better able to respond.

Words are a part of who I am. They are my art. They are my worship.

I’m so grateful for you and your willingness to read these humble words and for your grace to keep coming back. I sit in awe of how God sometimes uses these words to speak to you. I see it from time to time in your comments – just the right words at just the right moment. Ultimately, my desire is that these words would inspire you to take your own place at the feet of Jesus. His words are really all that matters.

And I pray that through all this God would be glorified.

Words contain power:

He spoke the universe into existence with a word (Genesis 1:3).

His Word is alive and powerful,cutting between soul and spirit, exposing our innermost thoughts and desires (Hebrews 4:12).

He is the Word made flesh (John 1:14).

And we will give an account on the day of judgment for every careless word we have spoken… and written (Matthew 12:36).

In the beginning I struggled to find my voice … I’m still not sure I’ve found it. I struggled to find my focus, which changed multiple times, and will probably continue to evolve.

So often I come to the keyboard empty. Not knowing what words to use or how to put them together.

But it’s when we come empty that He is able to fill us up.

He has always provided the words, whether they came easily or required greater effort to find.

When I started blogging, I had no idea how long I would continue and where this journey would take me. I still don’t know.

But God has etched these words deep on my heart and so I keep going… number 280… all for His glory.

Publish his glorious deeds among the nations. Tell everyone about the amazing things he does. Psalm 96:3 (NLT)

I miss the farm.

I grew up on a mere 127 acres of land – not a huge farm, but ample space for my young legs to run free.

My sisters and I climbed trees, rode bikes, explored the swamp, and built forts in the hay mow. We went for walks in the cool summer evenings, made snow forts in the winter, and did cartwheels on the back lawn.

Each night I pulled on my rubber boots and followed my dad to the barn. There we fed cows, played with kittens, cuddled bunnies and talked life.

I’ve had fourteen years of sidewalks and fenced-in backyards and neighbours so close I can reach out and touch them, but I still feel that familiar dull ache for the country air.

Is home always where we began?

On Sundays we often go to the farm, my sisters and I, bringing our families in tow. The memories start flowing as freely as my children run. No fences. No boundaries. Only wide open spaces. 

I love my small town life, but I’ll always be a country girl at heart.