Out of the Darkness

Our family – all 20 of them – had plans right through the actual Christmas Day, so we celebrated our big family Christmas with them all that first weekend of December. It was a short season of lights, trees, and nativity scenes for us this year! On the Monday after that first weekend, I packed away all the Christmas decorations in tubs and containers, then securely placed all in their 11-month “storage units” on shelves. So by the middle of the first week of December, Ron and I were in the car, “packed to the hilt” with food, swimsuits, summer clothes, and all my writing materials, and headed south to our little Florida home near the warm Gulf waters, for the winter.

I must say it was “odd.” We sped along the highways, passing thousands of homes, brightly decorated  inside and out, knowing our own Michigan home was now dark and cold; the upcoming Christmas Day, too, now seemed dark and cold because our family Christmas was past. Yes, it was “odd.”

The trip, our drive of typically 18-20 hours, was long and tiring. The outdoor temperatures rose as we neared our destination, but our physical strength diminished, weary from it all. Those last hours especially were the darkest of the year. Nearing winter solstice. The atmosphere clouded. No moon in sight. Finally,  after midnight, we turned onto the dark, narrow street in our little quiet neighborhood, leading to our little Florida home. And there it was: a light in the darkness. 

Kathy,  a caring neighbor and friend, had left the outside light on for us. It was a welcomed sight! A light to lead us to the door, to welcome us home.

We entered our home, relieved and thankful.

I quickly but carefully stepped through the darkened rooms,  moving toward the back of the house,  being drawn by yet another light – this one of various colors. 

There, through the glass of the back door, leading to our small back yard, my eyes gazed upon  another light in the midst of this dark night, this one strategically lit by our neighbor, Donna, also intended to welcome us home.

The kindness of our neighbors reminded me of the graciousness of our Savior.  Jesus said, “I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who  believes in me should stay in darkness.” (1)

The Gospel writer says, “In Jesus is life, and that life is the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.” (2)

I understand it.

Jesus said, “I am the Light of the World. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.” (3)

I understand it.  I no longer walk in darkness because I am a follower of Jesus Christ!

When we accept Jesus Christ as Savior, His light exposes the truth that our sins have been completely removed. The Light, which is His presence, give us grace and hope we need in this darkened world.

Yes, I understand it. Do you? 

Come out of the darkness, my friend. Come into the Light!

Click here to understand how to become a Christ follower.

1) John 12:46

2) John 1:4,5

(3) John 8:12

From a whisper to a roar

Today I came across a short journal entry I’d written one morning years ago:

“I slept well last night, which I so needed, as my body has been fighting an illness. I thought I would feel refreshed this morning but instead, I felt discouraged and depressed. Not because of the illness, I’m sure (although one thing does add to another), but because of a different, ongoing situation very close to me that doesn’t seem to be getting better in spite of days, weeks, and months of prayer.”

Although written quite some time ago, this could just as easily be my story – or your story – today. Especially today – in 2020. Ongoing problems, seemingly yet unanswered prayers, weighted and worsened by isolation, COVID fears, lockdowns, and loneliness.

Has anything like this ever happened to you? Is it happening now – at the end of 2020?

In your weakness, a voice speaks to you and it says, “God doesn’t hear your prayers. He isn’t answering your prayers. You might as well give up.”

I’ve heard that voice – often. I’ve come to recognize it, knowing it is not from God because it brings fear – fear of the unknown, fear of the future, fear that God doesn’t care.  God doesn’t give me fear. His Word tells me He gives me a spirit of power and of love and of a sound mind. (2 Timothy 1:7) So when I hear that malevolent voice,  I simply pray,

Thank you Father for the spirit of power and of love and of a sound mind.

But sometimes it’s difficult to pray. Very difficult! I forget the words, the Scripture, or I’m too exhausted. It is then I simply speak to my Abba Father, pouring out my heart:

Lord, I know you love me and you love my family. We need you. 

When I speak, a single tear fills each eye.

Isaiah 43 19

Abba Father speaks to me through His Word:  “See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?” (Isaiah 43:19)

Yes, I perceive it Lord! Thank you!

Then I go to His Word to read more about the new thing He is doing. I read that He is making a way in the desert and the wasteland we have been going through. He is providing (Living) water so that we might praise Him. (We do and we will!) He reminds me that He has chosen me, made me, formed me, and will help me. He pours that Living Water and His Spirit out on me and on my children and grandchildren. And they will spring up! (Isaiah 43, 44)

I keep opening and reading His Word because I know that faith comes from hearing the message of Christ. And it is faith I need. (Romans 10:17) And the message adds to my continuing prayer today:

Lord, let me remember who I am, whose I am, and the territory that belongs to me. For the loss I and mine have suffered, take back that ground for us. Release the boldness of the Lion of the Tribe of Judah in my prayers – that my prayers will be fierce – that they will rise from a whisper to a roar.

And as my day progresses, my prayers become more fierce, intensifying from whispers to roars, knowing that He is making the way for me and for my loved ones through the desert and the wasteland.

Further Reading: 

Romans 10:17

Isaiah 43, 44

Click here to arrange for me to speak to your group!

My 2020 Christmas Letter

This is not your typical “Christmas letter.” Instead, I’m opening up, which isn’t always easy for me, sharing  a composition of my thoughts late in this beautiful Christmas season of this dreadful year of 2020.

First, I must clarify – every year is “blessed” – none can truly be “dreadful,” if one is alive to tell about it. But we all know what 2020 has been, and it is not at all pleasant. So, even though as a Christian, I find blessedness in all the Lord has provided and brought us through this year, I also find dreadfulness in the year itself. Why? Because our enemy has twisted and maligned, and – well, Jesus stated it so well in John 10:10, when He told us that our enemy, the thief comes to steal, kill, and destroy. That’s just what the enemy has done this year. Every heartache, trial, illness, death, separation, loneliness, divisiveness, turmoil – all fit in the categories of at least one of those three words: steal, kill, and destroy.

Woe! And whoa! This piece of writing is becoming dreary and seemingly hopeless.

But Jesus . . .

My friend, our Jesus turns this terrible year completely around – totally inside out – from darkness into light – from death to life. It started when He was born, it continued when He saved me, and it’s happening right now. He makes all things new. He is our hope. His promises are true. He is unchanging. He is all faithful. He will never leave us or forsake us. Never. He is with us now – at the end of this dreadful 2020 – in the midst of this beautiful Christmas season.

This is our Jesus.

He came to give us life. LIFE! Not just a sense of “living” but a LIFE abundant! (Also John 10:10) Jesus refers to that life as rich and satisfying (NLT) – as full. NIV).

This is our Jesus.

So at this Christmas time, we can rejoice in singing of Jesus as Immanuel, the Prince of Peace, the Newborn King. We can rejoice in singing of the hope and peace He brings.

Recently, I saw these pictures of the Baby Jesus and as our Savior Jesus, dying for us:

He came for all. He died for all. And He rose from the grave for all. But He is not yours if He is only your Christmas Baby Jesus. He cannot be your peace and hope if you have not trusted Him as your Lord and Savior. This year – this dreadful year – may you realize the fullness of His love for you. May you realize why He truly came.

I’m sure this is a strange Christmas for many. It is different for me, too.

Ron and I were blessed to celebrate Christmas with most of our children and grandchildren in Michigan – early. They all had other plans around the actual “Christmas Day,” so my home was decorated early – and for just a short period of time. It was different. It didn’t seem like Christmas time that early, so I did not deck the house as usual.

Although the nativity was set in a prominent place, the remainder of Nana and Papa’s Michigan home didn’t change much from Thanksgiving to Christmas. Only the lighted church was set up – not the many lighted houses, the tiny ice skating pond the little ones so love, or the snow and mini fences completing the beautiful little village. No wreaths adorned my doors this year; no garlands embellished the fireplace mantles; only one tree was decorated instead of two. I’m not sure why. Was it the mindset of an altered year? Or was it because of an altered mindset?

On a Monday, nearly three weeks before Christmas Day, Ron and I “took down” Christmas and packed it away for another year. We headed south.

Once settled into our southern Florida home, we scouted the local stores in hopes of finding the perfect little Christmas tree and the most meaningful Nativity set. In hopes of establishing a new little tradition of Christmas with just the two of us. Because we must. It is different. Many of you know. More than I. You’ve been alone. Perhaps single. Perhaps divorced. Perhaps widowed. This year, isolated by the evils of a virus. It is different yet. And most often unwelcomed. You try. You bake cookies and place at another’s front door. You send cards and encourage others. You mail packages. Sometimes you cry. You often pray. You find Jesus sufficient. More so than you ever realized. You have found Christmas. 

You have probably learned what I am now discovering. The truth about Jesus. The truth of meeting him in the manger. The truth of looking ahead to His suffering and death and resurrection. The truth of peace and joy – that only He can bring. The truth of knowing why – why He came as a baby. The truth that we sometimes can only learn at the end of a dreadful year.

And it is a blessed understanding. One that needs not a lighted tree or even a beautiful Nativity. One that needs only the Word – the Carol – the Worship.

If Jesus is your Savior, as well as your Christmas baby, you understand. If you are uncertain, click here to read how to make certain – to receive Him as your Christmas gift – as your Savior.

Turn from thoughts and anxieties and pain and fear of the killing, stealing, and destroying brought by the thief – turn to the abundant, full life promised by Jesus!

Join me in the true celebration of Jesus’ birth. Together, we’ll sing,

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.”

And His favor rests on us, His children,

because of our Jesus.

It’s My Party and I’ll Cry if I Want to.

I had a party today. Sorry I didn’t invite you, but I was all caught up in myself. This kind of party is much more fun when I’m all alone.

It started this way: “Surely God is good to me . . . but I’ve stumbled and lost my footing. All day long I’m plagued with trials; seems there’s a new punishment every morning.” If only I had said something different – if only I could explain– if only he truly loved me – if only she understood – if only things were different – if onlyif only – [i]

Wow! The party was really

getting going at this point!

(Maybe you should have been there!)

When I tried to understand all that was going on, it suddenly seemed very oppressive to me.[ii] (You know how that oppression works!) By this time, the enemy was knocking loudly at my door. He really wanted to come to my party!

Like I said, I wanted to be alone at my party. But I did recognize that malevolent knock, so when it became oppressive to me, I left the room where he was knocking, and I entered the sanctuary of God.[iii] It’s a quiet place – so very comfortable – such a place of refuge! God took hold of my right hand; He became my strength; and I realized that I desired nothing more than to be with Him. [iv] I realized it was good for me to be near God.

He said, “You can have great peace because you love my law, and nothing can make you stumble.”[v]

And I said, “I wait for your recovery, O LORD, and I follow your commands. I obey your statues, for I love them greatly. I obey your precepts and your statues, for all my ways are known to you.” [vi] (That last part made me I realize that He had known about my party all along!)

Looking back, I see it really wasn’t much of a party at all until I entered His shelter. That’s when the true celebration started.

Next time I’ll try to have a different kind of party

– in the sanctuary – and I will invite you!

Click here to listen to Lesley Gore’s 1964 hit, “It’s My Party, and I’ll Cry If I Want To,” the song that led to the title of this blog!


[i] Psalm 73: 1,2,14,15 NIV paraphrased

[ii] Psalm 73:16 NIV paraphrased

[iii] Psalm 73:17 NIV paraphrased

[iv] Psalm 73:23-25 NIV paraphrased

[v] Psalm 119:165 NIV paraphrased

[vi] Psalm 119:166-168 NIV paraphrased

I’m weary.

I’m weary. You know how it is.

It’s not just one thing. It’s more than one. It’s more than two. It’s one thing upon another. Stacking. Compounding. Until that one more thing, no matter how small, seems just too much.

I’ve been aware of the stacking – the compounding – for quite some time. I’ve dealt with it in the past, and I’ll deal with it again. But for now, I’m weary. It’s like a compounding pile of rocks. Some light. Some heavy.

Today, as I write, my brother in law is in surgery, having a lung transplant. This rock is a heavy one, and it’s been on the compounding pile of rocks for a long time. Its very presence on his stack, and on my sister’s stack, causes it to accumulate in diverse sizes on my own rising pile. It makes me weary.

Facebook and Instagram photos look lovely, but we all know, there’s quite often pain behind the smiles. My family is no different.  I’ve encountered those heaping rocks many times, repeatedly, and have pushed them off, one by one, turning them over to the Lord, trusting those issues to Him. Oftentimes, when I do,  I figuratively wipe my hands and smugly say, Take that, you cursed enemy. By the power of the name of Jesus. But today, those same stones – or rocks, as they’ve become, aren’t moving as easily.  Because I’m weary. Sometimes it’s a recurring pebble that pops up – with my spouse’s name on it. Sometimes an entire little bag of pebbles – you know, like the bag of marbles we had when we were kids.  Sometimes it’s huge – the loss of a child – or of a parent. It’s the grief that permeates and changes your life forever. It’s your child’s middle-of-the-night fever or her wicked diagnosis. It’s a learning disability or a mental illness. It’s a daughter’s addiction or a son’s waywardness. It’s the pain on your grandchild’s face and the tears in his eyes when his daddy yells and leaves the house. It’s the pain of your daughter’s singleness when she yearns for marriage. The problem burdens not just one in the family; it burdens all. You hurt not only for the burdened one but for each one who suffers – physically, mentally, emotionally. The rocks seem heavier than they once were. And they’re all stuck together. Sometimes they seem cemented. I’m weary from it. And I know you’re weary. I can see it behind your smile.

The enemy throws a lot of political rocks onto my stack, more as the last few years have progressed. My “friends” and community members have called me names – well, not me personally, but in general, along with anyone who has my political view. And I create my own stones on my stack, as well, having zero understanding of  those who view the political issues from a different perspective. It’s all so heavy. And I become weary.

This COVID thing is just  plain weighty in this pile of rocks. The COVID rocks keep appearing in various sizes and weights upon the stack:  Isolation. Sickness. Death. Fear. Hate. Divisiveness. Anger. Exhaustion. Loneliness. Separation. Anxiety. Suicide. Grief. Poverty. Judgment. Depression. This is not a bag of rocks. It’s a truck full of boulders that have become ever present month after month, enveloping our birthdays, anniversaries, celebrations, travel plans, elections, and now our holidays. We boldly and bravely  knock one COVID rock off our pile; another related rock appears. We’ve all become weary from it.

Here’s the thing: 

On the other side of my weariness is Jesus. He’s waiting just like always. He whispers,

Kathi, I will refresh your weary soul and replenish you when you are weak. I will give you pleasant sleep. My Word sustains you. Keep it fresh in your mind. Come to me. I will give you rest.

So today, in my weariness, I go to Jesus, the one who came to give me abundant life. I turn my burdens over to Him. We know He doesn’t bring any of the burdens that are making me weary. But He gladly takes them and brings the victory – some that I see today – some that is yet unseen but promised.  Either way, I have the promised rest,

What about you?  For all of these things we have Jesus. If you’re a Christ follower, go to Him. Place each burden, big or small, light or heavy, on Him. Until your weariness is gone. If you’re yet uncertain if you have Jesus, turn to Him. We needn’t remain weary!

Click here to learn more about following Christ.

Further reading:

Jeremiah 31:25, 26

Isaiah 50:4

Matthew 11:28

John 10:10

It’s your heritage!

The gift has been offered.

It’s your heritage!

Have you received it yet?

Some of you have read about 1946 AZ June 23my heritage – the amazing heritage left by my parents, a godly man and a godly woman, who, together,  honored the Lord and prayed for their family – their children, grandchildren, great grandchildren . . .

Perhaps you didn’t have godly parents. You might feel left out.

Well, don’t!

Consider the extent of your “family tree”:

Gr and Gr. LockeYou had two parents, four grandparents, eight great grandparents, sixteen great-great grandparents . . .

Most of us only really know (or knew) our parents. Some of us know (or knew) our grandparents. Very few of us know anything about our great-grandparents or our great-great-grandparents or . . . you get the picture.

How do you know which of them were down on their knees, day after day, praying for YOU – their child – or grandchild – great or great-great! You are one of those grandchildren! Your godly heritage, if not from your own parents or grandparents, might have come from your great (or great-great) grandparents! Take it and receive it! Then pass it on to your children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. It’s not coincidental that you are reading about your heritage right now. God planned it that way!


Your grandparent might have prayed God’s Word for YOU. Can’t you just picture him (Grandpa) or her (Grandma, sitting at the old kitchen table, Bible opened – or kneeling on that hard wooden floor, pleading for YOU in a prayer, something like this:


I  ask you, God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, to give my family the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that they may know you better. I pray also that the eyes of their hearts may be enlightened in order that they may know the hope to which you have called each of them, the riches of your glorious inheritance in the saints, and your incomparably great power for us who believe. (Ephesians 1:17-19a) Jesus, please save my family.

Farmhouse 2Very likely the heritage began with him – or her. With Dad or Mom. With Grandpa or Grandma. But if not, it needs to begin with you. God has planned it. He has chosen you! (1) He has adopted you! You simply need to accept Him. The Bible tells us about your heritage:

God wants you and your sons and daughters to be taught by the Lord.

He wants your children’s peace to be great.

He wants you to be established in righteousness.

Farmhouse 3This is your heritage! (2)  

The gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ. (3) But those parents, grandparents, or great-grandparents can’t claim the gift of your heritage for you. You have to accept that gift yourself (4)

194- B Grandma Locke Dad, MomHonor the prayers of your grandparents: Read about the Word that is near you:

It is in your mouth and in your heart. Confess with your mouth ‘Jesus is Lord,”‘ and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, and you will be saved . . . ” (5)

Claim your prize – your gift – your heritage!

If you’ve been uncertain of your heritage in Jesus Christ, say a prayer, something like this:

 Lord, thank you for revealing my heritage to me! I know I’m a sinner, but you’ve given me the gift of God  – eternal life in Christ Jesus. I believe in my heart that Jesus is Lord and that God raised him from the dead. Thank you for saving me!

1) Ephesians 1:4,5,11

2) Isaiah 54: 13-18

3) Romans 6:23b

4) Romans 10:9,10

(5) Romans 10:8-13

Further Reading: : Romans 3:23; Romans 6:23; Romans 10:9-13; Isaiah 54: 13-18; Ephesians 1:4,5, 17-19

I won’t be receiving a Tony Award this year.

The date was set.

The courtroom was reserved.

The orchestration had already been assigned, and guess what? I hadn’t been chosen for the job.

I had wanted to do it; I had wanted to be able to arrange everything. To set the “stage” for the sentencing.  Just the right people there. Exactly the right things to be said. I had it all planned. I thought. But the orchestrator position belonged to someone else – Almighty God.

So I sat back and trusted God–something I’ve been learning to do for quite some time. To trust Him to orchestrate the events.

He had begun the orchestration quite some time ago, before the creation of the world (1). He created her inmost being, her special talents, her tender soul. Then He knit her beautifully together–her delicate face, her porcelain complexion, her thin fingers– in my womb (2).

And while she was in my womb, I loved her. I planned how I would care for her, protect her, guide her, keep her. He had the same plans for her and more! Plans to prosper her and protect her, plans to give her hope and a future (3).

Time passed. I failed. She failed. We all failed Him (4).

I kept trying to orchestrate the events in her life. I applied, repeatedly, but over and over, I was never hired for the position.

I began to trust Him more. I learned to depend upon one thing — His Word. I trusted Him in it.

I prayed that Word with her, to her, for her.

I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, would give her the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that she would know him better. I prayed that the eyes of her heart would be enlightened in order that she might know the hope to which he has called her, the riches of his glorious inheritance, and his incomparably great power for us who believe . . . (5). 

And I prayed the same for myself!

It seemed chaotic at first, like total discord, dissonance, cacophany! But then it happened!  The Great Orchestrator–the one who had written the composition, had arranged all the parts, and had adapted that beautiful composition to our broken lives–that Great Orchestrator, in His great mercy, brought all the parts of the production together in perfect harmony.

She was redeemed. She became a new creation!

And so each time I think the production is in shambles and needs orchestrated, I remind myself to quit applying for the Orchestrator position. There’s someone more qualified, and He does such a perfect job.

No I won’t be receiving a Tony Award this year.

If you’d like to read my story about facing our daughter’s addiction and her subsequent arrest, you can order When Life Roars, Jesus Whispers by clicking here. 

Click here to “subscribe” to my blogs while you’re on this site.

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End Notes:

1) Eph. 1:4

2) Psalm 139: 13

3) Jer. 29:11

4) Rom. 3:23

5) Eph. 1:17,18

Who is Touching You?

Today, I was reading about Jesus. It’s the story of Jesus at a dinner. All four gospel writers record it. Perhaps you’ve heard it – or read it.

A woman comes in to the house where the dinner is held, obviously uninvited, and she opens a very expensive bottle of perfume and anoints Jesus with it. Most likely she is chastised. The Pharisees even chastise Jesus  for allowing this to happen. The “righteous” guests have various reasons to criticize the action. They are self-righteous and think they know best – know more than Jesus. Jesus uses the situation to teach them about the forgiveness of sins. Paraphrased, it’s something like this: He who has been forgiven much loves Him much. He who has been forgiven little loves little. Then He tells the woman her sins are forgiven, her faith has saved her, and she is to go in peace.

It’s a marvelous story about forgiveness. About repentance. About redemption. You’re probably familiar with it. Perhaps like me, you’ve read it or heard it many times throughout your life. But today, as I read it – distraught by the sin openly flaunted around us, by the self-glorification and haughtiness displayed in this country and this world in which we live – one line stood out to me more than the others. One line I never really contemplated before. It is only found in Luke’s account (7:39). The sanctimonious, hypocritical man who had invited Jesus said it:  

 If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is – that she is a sinner.

He knew. Oh yes, Jesus knew.

It made me question: Who is touching me? And I ask you, Who is touching you?

Every day, we are approached, surrounded by, or we simply encounter a sinner – at work, at the grocery store, even on social media – one whose sins are not yet forgiven, one who is not yet saved, one who does not yet have the peace our Jesus offers. That person is touching you. And you know.

We must tell them about Jesus, the one who forgives sins, saves souls, and offers peace.  We must tell them about the Jesus we have touched. The Jesus who saved us. The time is short.

We know. Oh yes, we know.

So I must be aware of who is touching me. And I ask you, Who is touching you?

Further Reading: Matthew 26:6-13; Mark 14:3-9; Luke 7:36-50; John 12:1-8

It’s a “toss up”

Most people think 2020 has been the worst year ever. It’s a “toss up” between 2020 and 2012 for me. I write about much of 2012 in my first book, When Life Roars, Jesus Whispers, but not all.  I’d like you to read it. Why? Because you’ll relate. I know you’ve been through similar trials, and I know you’ll find encouragement through each chapter of Hope, Comfort, Faith, Promise  .  .  . 

I’m hoping you’ll order a copy for yourself – and for a friend. Also order my Bible Study, Shh! Listen to His Whispers, in which you’ll learn how to hear Jesus speak to you through His Word, the Bible. This study has changed lives, and it’ll change yours – along with mine – to draw us closer to the Lord Jesus.

Click here to order both.




Papa, can I lie in your bed?

He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart:

I put her to bed, as usual. Well, really, with a bit more tenderness, a bit more time–reading, laying, singing, snuggling. But she is still quite unsettled when I leave her bedside, and shortly after, I hear her behind me in the living room.


“Nana, can I lie in your bed?”

“Sure, honey.”

I follow her down the hall. She steps up onto the little white stepping stool and up up up on to the big, soft mattress. And then I see the tears.

“I miss my mommy.”

I wipe her tears.

I lie beside her, cherishing her soft hair rubbing my cheek, breathing in its sweet, innocent scent.

Later, after she is sound asleep, Papa carries Kaylee back to her own bed.

I awaken in the night. My heart aches. I miss her mommy too. And I know a bit of the pain my precious daughter is going through. She shared it with me months ago, shortly after the arrest. Now I know that tonight, she lies on her cot, in her cell,  cold and lonely. My throat makes a foreign noise. I try to hold back the sob, knowing that when it starts, it doesn’t stop for a long time. I pray for her in a whisper – a whisper I know my Papa hears.

Months ago, after the arrest, on the 9th day, we brought her home–from that cell, from that cot–for one night before recovery began. She wanted her own bed– her old bed. The comfort of home.

Now I want the comfort of my Papa’s bed. I want that comfort for my daughter, and for her daughter, Kaylee. I want that comfort for all of us and for all others who are hurting.

I find it. I find it in the Word that is near me!

He gently tends me like a shepherd tends his flock. He gathers me in his arms and carries me close to his heart.

I might be unsettled for awhile, but I know that as I rest in his arms, close to His heart, I’ll find that comfort.

Further Reading: Isaiah 40:11; Psalm 91:1; Matthew 11:28; Romans 10:8

As you read the above post, you might connect. Some of you have or are presently raising your grandchildren. Some of you have or have had a son or daughter incarcerated. Some of you agonize, watching your own little ones unsettled and distressed, often unable to sleep. Take a verse or two and personalize it for yourself. Speak it over and over and over .  . . His Word is powerful. And it’s near you.

If you’d like to read my story about facing our daughter’s addiction and her subsequent arrest, you can order When Life Roars, Jesus Whispers by clicking here. 

Click here to “subscribe” to my blogs while you’re on this site.

And please follow me on my Facebook Writer’s Page: