Christian Author and Speaker
Marion L. Nutt
May 18, 1920 – April 28, 1943
I never knew my Uncle Marion, yet my throat tightens, and tears roll down my face whenever I look at pictures of him, read his letters from war, or place a flower on his grave.
Perhaps it is because he reminds me of my father. They shared such a resemblance. Or perhaps it is because sometimes I try to place myself in my Grandma’s shoes – having five sons in the war at the same time
. . . we prayed and then drove to the court house. I was worried, “keyed up.” My soul was encased with weeks – months – years of prayer. The anxiety caused me to be somewhat “punch drunk.” I wanted to glorify God no matter the outcome of this sentencing. Family and friends filled the courtroom. I felt blessed. Our daughter and son-in-law sat at the front of the courtroom, waiting to be called up before the judge. But we waited a length of time while others stood before him. Some offenders were being arraigned. Others were being sentenced. As we heard those sentences, my physical gut tightened and my mind became frightened. The judge was giving harsh sentences for seemingly minor offences. When these “criminals” went forward to be sentenced, their family members shuffled in and out of the courtroom. Sometimes one or two family members observed. Sometimes none. None of these people, these “criminals” or their family members, had the support our daughter and son-law and Ron and I had. We waited. And watched.
A young woman, crying, sat alone at the side of the courtroom.
I went over, sat beside her, and put my arm around her, hoping to console her. She told me about her sister who would be arraigned on this day.
Her short story was filled with hopelessness – a background of abuse and hate, a story of drugs, a child taken from her mother, no money for bail. I asked if I could pray for her and her sister. She allowed me to.
Although I prayed for her sister by name, my prayer was for all women invaded by the enemies of abuse and neglect, deceived by the demons of a myriad of drugs. My prayer was also for their crying and neglected children, entwined in the lost cycle of it all, people for whom I now had a greater empathy and a sincere concern. “Christ,” I said. “We fight under your banner. Lead us.”
Soon her sister, handcuffed and dressed in orange and white stripes, stood before the judge. The arraignment was stated. The officer led her from the courtroom. The young woman with whom I had spoken smiled a thank you through her tears as she left the courtroom. I returned to my seat and waited our turn.
I thought of the first time, nine months ago, when I had entered this court house. I remembered seeing my daughter and her husband in shackles. I recalled the many court appearances speckled throughout the months between then and now, during which I had seen other women and men shuffling down the halls of the court house, in the faded striped coveralls, shackled hand and foot.
Some hung their heads in shame; some were frightened; some smirked. No matter their demeanor, my heart had ached for each one; my hate for the deceitful enemy who had caused it all was fueled on those days and refueled today.
But on this day, my awareness of the Father’s great love for all and the saving grace of Jesus Christ was foremost in my awareness. Now I looked at my daughter, her beauty and health returning to her once-addicted body, and at my son-in-law, now a true man in every sense of the word, and I thanked God. They sat together, knowing that most likely, they would be separated from this day forward, and separated from their children, as well, for a lengthy time. But they faced the consequences of their sins and crimes, thankful that God had saved them out of their depression and addiction, thankful that they had a bright future in Him.
The judge had stepped out after the young “sister’s” sentencing – then had reentered the courtroom. “All stand,” the court assistant instructed . . . Then called our son-in-law forward …
Continue reading in my book, When Life Roars, Jesus Whispers Click here to order: https://kathiwaligora.com/blog/
I’ll send it out to you asap!
Look up! You’ll see His glory.
The heavens declare the glory of God . . . (Psalm 19:1a)
You’ll see it in the skies – the sun, the stars, the clouds, deep into the huge expanse reaching far beyond our sight.
It’s there. His glory!
You’ll hear these heavenly elements speak. Day and night, they are declaring, speaking. And as they speak, they teach us, revealing knowledge, making God known to us, reviving our souls. His voice is heard and He is made known in every corner of the earth, reaching every land, every tribe, every language. No place is hidden from His voice – from His glory. Whenever and wherever you see the skies, you see God’s glory.
It’s there. His glory!
Father, I look up because I want to see your glory. Open my eyes to every aspect of your creation that I see when I look up. Open my ears to hear your glory. Let me hear your Word speaking to me. Day or night. Light or dark. I join the heavens in praising you.
(Praying from Psalm 19:1-7; 89:5)
“Though you walk in the midst of trouble,” God says:
My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please. . . I summon a bird . . . or a man to fulfill my purpose. What I have said, that will I bring about. What I have planned, that will I do. It is my purpose that prevails. My word goes out and achieves the purpose for which I sent it. Though you walk in the midst of trouble, I will preserve your life; I will save you; I will fulfill my purpose for you. (Is.46)
We all have been walking in this “midst of trouble” since early Spring 2020, and probably well before.
He says He will “fulfill” his “purpose” for us. What is His purpose for me? For you? His Word has gone forth and He is speaking to us through His own creation. Are you listening? I am. And I am strengthened in faith as I contemplate.
Especially throughout the tumult of 2020, in the midst of all the pain and frustration, agony and isolation, more photos were posted on social media than ever before. Photos. Of nature. Of sunrises and sunsets, beautiful birds, spring flowers pushing up through the cold soil, budding bushes, flowering trees. Super moons. The tumultuous year changed seasons. Summer brought photos of green fields, late evening sunsets, and bountiful fruit and vegetable harvests. Autumn’s beauty yet surpassed our expectations with its changing leaves of abundant color and “Frost on the Punkin.” The beautiful Northern Lights. We entered yet another winter. It began with our own “Christmas Star,” followed by ice-covered trees, weighted with heavy wet snow.
All of nature. God’s own creation.
I enjoyed the photos on social media throughout the last year(s) and especially these last months, didn’t you? In the “midst” of divisions over political candidates and policies, wearing or not wearing masks, and taking or not taking the controversial Covid Vaccine, I, nonetheless, have sensed a unity among those of us, the people of His creation, who have discovered or recognized or cherished these elements of nature more than ever before. And that unity – the common love of nature – is brought about because of our God.
What is His purpose we read about in Isaiah 46?
This spring, I sat at my old table by the window, facing the storm-battered Maple beside our Michigan home. I looked up at its small budded leaves, which increased in both size and depth of green each day. I observed both male and female Baltimore and Orchard Orioles. Woodpeckers, Chickadees, Goldfinches, Cardinals, Blue Jays, Robins. Mourning Doves. Rose Breasted Grosbeaks. Varied species, each illustrating our varied circle of human community. Each beautiful in God’s eyes. Each placed here with purpose.
In Michigan, we delighted in the resurgence and arrival of the birds that had months ago left the cold for the warmth of the south. Now they have returned, and we are listening to their song, amazed by their color, enraptured with their beauty.
What is His purpose?
I look further, to the patio and into what we call Matt’s little woods. I have planted a few bulbs, such as the daffodils or tulips, that surround the edge of the growth of small maples, but I didn’t plant the Umbrellas and May Flowers, the Adder’s Tongues and Blood Roots, or the Cowslips that carpet the floor of the spring woods. They were planted by their creator, and they rise to Him.
What is the purpose?
I remember my walk through the woods a few days ago. Morels camouflaged amidst the dried leaves carried over from fall.
What is the purpose?
Yellow forsythia. Crab apple. Flowering bushes and towering trees that appeared dead through the long winter have budded in renaissance.
What is the purpose?
Could it be that the purpose of the great beauty of Spring, the most noticeably striking in years, one which has captured our every physical sense, is poured upon us as a reminder from our God that He has not forsaken us as we walk through the midst of trouble. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. It is He who has created everything good. It is He who has created the beautiful nature we see and enjoy. It is He who has created the depths of the deep waters and the waves in the Great Lakes surrounding our state and in the oceans surrounding our country. No person or entity can control those bodies of water – not a scientist – not a country – not a leader or ruler.
My word goes out and achieves the purpose
for which I sent it.
~ The Lord God
I believe that He sent that Word out all those years ago, in the beginning, speaking into being these elements of nature, knowing that their display in this anomalous Spring of 2021 would bring joy to our lives – at a time we would need it most. I believe that His purpose for us is to be encouraged, to know that He is God, that He is in control, and that we can trust Him. His presence revealed in nature reassures us of His promise – that He will never forsake us.
Did He summon that bird that delights us or that budding element of nature to fulfill His purpose. I think so. Take it personal. Listen to Him speaking. Let your heart be renewed in the knowledge of His faithfulness. Yesterday, today, and forever.
Further Reading:
Isaiah 46:10; Proverbs 19:21; Isaiah 55:11; Psalm 138:8; Hebrews 13:8
Thank you to Wayne Riley for your beautiful photo of the Oriole in flight!
(May 7, 2020 Flower Moon Photo from CNN.com)
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I had looked at photos and articles in the brochures, pamphlets, and travel guides of the park, considering which sites Ron and I might want to see. Much to my distress, one article had a photo of a bat, which I immediately covered up by folding the corner of the paper over it.
I usually rode the school bus home, but when I needed to stay for 7th grade cheerleading practice, Mom picked me up after she got out of work at 3:30. The inside of the car was toasty from having been in the sun on the warm fall day. Mom greeted me with a hug and a smile, but she was tired from working in the shop, so we did little talking. Instead, the car became a cozy setting for reading. I pulled out Little Women and read all the way home – and continued reading after she pulled in the drive and went into the house to start supper.
I read – and I dreamed – about Jo. When Mom called me in for supper, my mind was still spinning, trying to concoct a plan for a writing area for myself – like the attic in which Jo wrote – the one on the cover of my book.
During those days, I began to clear out a small loft in our “woodshed,” packed with broken fishing poles and worn window screens and coated with 60 years of grime. But cold weather soon arrived, and my plans were thwarted.
Dreams of writing and publishing were pushed to the back of my mind, and replaced with high school years and marriage and children and summer vacations and golden retrievers and music and home décor and . . . many beautiful and wonderful experiences, until one day, the laptop making it so much easier to get those ideas in print, the dream materialized. And now it’s a reality! Instead of an attic, my private writing space is a Michigan porch or a Florida Lanai. It’s a “Kathi” space instead of a “Jo” space!
So, I invite you – to read my writing – to browse my website and social media pages – to step into the shelter of my scripts and to discover commonalities between us. I invite you to purchase my published books and look for upcoming publications this year!
May God bless and speak to our hearts!
When Kathi Waligora faced the worst day of her life, she didn’t know that many more days would crash down on her in the weeks that followed. She cried out to God as her life roared; in reply, the gentle whisper of Jesus gave her peace, comfort, and hope to continue forward.
You’ll connect to Kathi within each chapter of When Life Roars Jesus Whispers, finding God’s Whispers of Truth, Grace, Faith, Mercy, Comfort, Hope, and Promise. Then you’ll apply these whispers to your own life through personal introspection at the end of each chapter.
When Life Roars, Jesus Whispers
Revised Edition
5.5″ x 8.5″ 258 pp.
Email me to inquire about quantity discounts of 10+ books: kathiwaligora@gmail.com
PayPal or other major credit card accepted
$15.99 plus shipping cost $3.75
We stepped through the steel doors of the jail. I couldn’t imagine my daughter in this place . . . No façade remained of the candy-coated lives we had lived for so many years, and I doubted that any façade would ever cover us again. We, too, were a ‘rough group of broken people’ ~ just the kind of people Jesus loves . . . and through the toughest times, we discovered favor of God as if we had always fully recognized it.
(An excerpt from: When Life Roars, Jesus Whispers)
“A powerful story that encourages our confidence in Christ when our own stories go off the rails.”
Bill Crowder, Bible Teacher and Author
“This book was hard to put down. It is a book of loss, despair, HOPE and whispers. It gave me strength. It gave me chills and even tears. In the end, it left me with HOPE.”
“I read the book in one day! When Life Roars, Jesus Whispers is a wonderfully written book filled with heart-wrenching events, heart-warming love and heart-lifting promises of hope!”
” . . . powerful, poignant . . .”
“This is an amazing book that I could not put down! Kathi, thank you for your courage and candor as you shared your heartbreak, struggles, and victory in the light of God’s Word!”
“Very touching story! I cried and I rejoiced! This is a story that can encourage and give hope!”
“I have to say that When Life Roars Jesus Whispers by Kathi Waligora is the best I have read . . . easy to read and love the devotions at the end of each chapter. Each chapter brought [me] back to the promises of God . . . very helpful , encouraging, and God centered. Thank you Kathi for opening your heart to the world and pointing us back to what matters – that Jesus understands and is with us throughout everything.”
When Life Roars, Jesus Whispers
Revised Edition
5.5″ x 8.5″ 258 pp.
Click here to inquire about quantity discounts of 10+ books
PayPal or other major credit card accepted
$15.99 plus shipping cost $3.75
Shh! Listen to His Whispers!
Shh! Listen to His Whispers! is the new Bible Study that complements When Life Roars, Jesus Whispers but stands alone as an individual or group six-week study. In this Bible Study, you’ll learn how Kathi began to listen to the whispers in God’s Word, and how you can hear those whispers, as well. Learn where the storms of life come from and where you can seek shelter. In your individual study – or together with others – you’ll learn to recognize storm warnings and discover how to speak life for yourself, your friends, your families who stand in the paths of these storms.
You’ll love this sturdy, beautifully-covered book with heavy pages – perfect to write upon.
Shh! Listen to His Whispers!
8.5″ X 11″
71 pages
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Recent Reviews:
“This Bible Study enriched my life!”
~ Mary Jo
~~ ~~
“Kathi, You have an amazing gift . . . helping people to listen for God’s whispers.”
~ Evelyn
~~ ~~
“This study made me realize my hope in all circumstances.”
~ Eileen
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
Email me to inquire about quantity discounts of 10+ books: kathiwaligora@gmail.com
PayPal or other major credit cards accepted
$10.99 plus shipping cost $3.00
“. . . even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.”
Psalm 139: 10
Privacy – It’s a “big deal” today and it always has been in this country – America.
Give me my privacy.
I have a constitutional right to privacy.
It’s a private matter.
None of your business.
privacyisawesome.com puts it this way: “Privacy means you can be yourself. You can express ideas without fear of being discriminated against or unjustly punished. It’s your life without pausing to think who’s watching: party hard, open up to a friend, organize a revolution, hang out with whoever you want–privacy keeps you safe. It’s a core principle in any free society.”
I think we all like our privacy.
But nothing is hidden from my God. He knows it all. I read about it in Psalm 139. How He knit me in my mother’s womb–how He has searched me and knows me–how He knows when I sit and when I rise. He knows my thoughts. He even knows what I’m going to say before I say it! And I must say, I agree with the Psalmist that “Such knowledge is too wonderful me, too lofty for me to attain.” It’s difficult to understand how and why a God would care so much.
No matter where I go, He is there. Up to the heavens–down into the depths–to the far side of the sea. The darkness doesn’t hide me from Him.Do I feel threatened? Do I feel invaded?
Not by my God.
Because in His ever presence, He does something amazing. He hems me in. He is behind me and He is before me. And while He’s ever present, He lays His hand upon me. His hand guides me and holds me. I feel so safe in His ever presence.
I observed in awe as my mother delicately washed each tiny glass cup and placed it to dry on the clean towel beside the kitchen sink. In my little eyes, the washing of the communion glasses seemed as sacred as the partaking. I could hardly wait until I was old enough to partake – “old enough to understand,” my mother and daddy said. So in reverence, I watched the washing of the tiny glass cups and the silver servers in which they were later placed. I observed her carefully pour the grape juice into each cup, break the unsalted crackers to a smaller silver plate, and place spotless white starched linen cloths over each. It was the first Sunday of the month: Communion Sunday at our small country church.
“This do in remembrance of me” the Pastor said, quoting from the King James Version.
In my early years, I learned more about this sacrament, in which I partook, and later, I became more discerning of His body, realizing more about honoring and recognizing His body, as well as His blood.
“For whenever you eat this break and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes,” He said.
Proclaiming means “openly declaring.”
I partake not to be forgiven but to “declare” that I am forgiven!
I partake, not to be healed but to “declare” that I am healed!
There is power in declaration! I am proclaiming to the powers of darkness that the Lord’s death has shaken loose everything they are trying to put on me. Jesus died for me (the past); I am proclaiming His death (the present) “until he comes” (the future). We learn in 1 Samuel 7:9 that the burnt offering of the lamb was like a sweet aroma to God. I suspect that communion, too, is a sweet aroma to God, as we remember the burnt offering of the Lamb of God, the Lord Jesus.
My husband Ron and I often take communion at home, sometimes sitting in the midst of God’s peaceful natural creation of trees and birds and breeze on our back porch or sometimes facing the powerful surroundings of God’s creation at the beach. I select special small vintage glasses for our tiny portions of wine, and I place matza unleavened flatbread on a small plate or platter, one that is memorable or has special significance to us. The matza bread, like the crackers used in the church of my childhood, are pierced and striped as Jesus’ body was. The burn marks on the bread (or crackers) represent the full fire of God’s wrath which fell upon Jesus and are a reminder of the burnt offering – the Lamb, the Lord Jesus. Of course, the wine, which He tells us to drink in remembrance of Him, is the new covenant in His blood. This reminds us that without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness. Ron and I always read from Isaiah 53, from the Psalms, from Luke 22, or from 1 Corinthians 11. We praise the Father and we thank Him. We partake.
The Holy Communion (the Lord’s Supper)
is not about you or me;
it is about Jesus.
Although it is blessed to partake in Communion with the body of believers, you can partake outside the church, as well – with your spouse, with your friend, or by yourself. It is your time of remembrance – of Him.
May God bless you as you partake in Holy Communion. You don’t need to wait until Sunday!
Further Reading: 1 Cor. 11:23-29; Samuel 7:9; Isaiah 53:4-6; Hebrews 9:22
During this season of Lent, some of us are trying to get more time alone with God – or to make more time with God. As I’ve shared before, I don’t find it easy to do so. My excuse is probably a lifetime of multitasking. Reading and watching TV at the same time. Using my bluetooth to talk on the phone while doing dishes or completing household tasks. Writing while watching the children play. Always something – rather two or three somethings going on. Not sure how or why it came about – how I got this way. I observe others quietly reading for hours at time, napping on the back porch in the summertime, leisurely humming while fixing dinner. I covet that contentedness.
So today, I’ve made the effort to be alone with my Father, to read His Word, and to listen as He speaks to me. The lesson I learned today was a bit about family love, a lot about compassion, and a reminder about the importance of occasional solitude. Here’s what His Holy Spirit taught me today:
I call him John the Baptist. I’m sure Jesus just called him John – His cousin, John. A cousin like none other, I assume, for while both babies were yet in their mother’s wombs, cousin John leaped noticeably when he heard the voice of Mary, his mother’s cousin, whom John’s mother Elizabeth referred to as “the mother of my Lord.” Mary responded to this honor by singing and glorifying the Lord God. Both baby boys heard their mothers’ voices magnifying God. Both baby boys were sent from God for specific purposes. John’s father was Zechariah. But Jesus’ father was Almighty God. A beautiful familial bond was set. The baby boys were born just months apart.
John the Baptist “prepared the way for the Lord,” baptizing people in the name of the Lord, whose “sandals I am not worthy to untie,” John said. Unlike those people John called to baptism, Jesus went to John for baptism.
Shortly after Jesus was baptized, John was imprisoned for his message. Scholars believe it was about 15 months later that John was then beheaded. When the Lord Jesus heard this news, He was undoubtedly grief-stricken: “When Jesus heard what had happened, he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place.”
Have you ever done this? In grief or in sorrow or in exhaustion, you’ve withdrawn to a place of solitude. Jesus did. But the Bible tells us that when he had arrived at the place of solitude, he discovered that He wasn’t really alone at all. A large crowd of people had followed him, along the shore. They were desperate for Him. I understand. Do you? I’ve been desperate for Him in the past. And I am desperate for Him now, as I write. a desperation I’ve had for over five years now. I do understand. And so does Jesus. I know this because of His response to the people who interrupted His desired solitude.
The Bible tells us that when Jesus saw this large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick. Then he fed them by multiplying five loaves of bread and two fish. That’s my Jesus,!. That’s your Jesus, beloved! Compassionate. Loving. Healer. Bread of Life.
After He met the needs of the people, He again sought solitude, this time succeeding. He went up on a mountainside. To pray, the Bible says.
To pray. I let those two words “sink in” to my desperate, multitasking mind today.
I don’t know how long He was alone in prayer, but I assume it was through the evening and most of the night. We read that along toward morning, He went out, on the lake, walking on the water during a storm, to meet, comfort, and teach His disciples who were in a water-drenched boat, tossing to and fro, thinking they were going to die. That’s my Jesus! That’s your Jesus. Teacher. Comforter. Savior. The Great I Am! The Son of God!
And it didn’t end. His ministry didn’t end when He was crucified. He’s still compassionate. He still comforts me. He’s still loving and healing. My teacher. My Savior. The Great I Am! The Son of God. The Bread of Life. That’s my Jesus. That’s your Jesus.
He’s the one who becomes family.
He’s the one who is compassionate.
And He’s the one who teaches me that occasionally I need to get to a place of solitude ~ to pray.
Click here to contact me to speak to your group – or at your event. I would be honored!