Then the Lord answered me and said: “Write the vision and make it plain on tablets, that he may run who reads it. For the vision is yet for an appointed time; but at the end it will speak, and it will not lie. Though it tarries, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry. ‘Behold the proud, his soul is not upright in him; but the just shall live by his faith.’” – Habakkuk 2:2-4 NKJV
I started writing a blog nearly eighteen years ago to pay tribute to my boy, who I like to say has been sent ahead for safe keeping, but God reminded me today that my ultimate purpose is to write the story God wants to tell through my life.
As someone who lives passionately conveying His heart through visual arts – mostly graphic design, drawing, and painting in watercolor and acrylic mediums – I find myself drawn also to the canvas of words on paper. Over the years, people have shared with me that my words helped them connect to realities in their lives they did not have their own words to express. I believe God has given me a deep love for storytelling and words.
In 2007, I sat at home, alone, one fall evening. As I waited for my family to return home from church, I watched a video about recognizing God’s voice. Through that video and the classes offered at church, God unlocked a way of living I’ve fully embraced as a lifeline to identity and purpose. For me, an auditory learner, the first and most important way I’ve learned to hear God is through the scriptures. But, through the years, I began to realize there were thoughts, dreams and visions, along with feelings, impressions or a sense of knowing that I carried. Often dismissing them as last night’s pizza, vain imaginations or wishful thinking, the reality they spoke to became undeniable. I woke up that evening to the countless times when God met me in a moment offering me a word that spoke directly to my life’s season.
In the waning months of 2006, I lived very real struggles. My life had unraveled around me after the death of my oldest child, and sitting in that chair that night an old thought surfaced – the understanding that God has given me a writer’s voice. A heart brimming over to tell stories and to teach others from the experiences I have had with Him as I have journeyed through His Word and the path that has led me to that moment. In that exact moment in time and history, I sensed God’s invitation to step beyond fear and live in the freedom of His truth about me by faith!
I spent an hour and a half watching and rewinding that video, cozied up in my recliner with a blanket and note pad. At the end of the video lesson, the speaker instructed us to pray this simple prayer, “God, what do you want to say?”
SILENCE.
I paused the video and released a shaky breath. In my mind, I begged the anxious thoughts in my mind to be quiet as they rambled nervously about what would happen if it didn’t work for me. I took one more slow, deep breath and then another, waiting for some revelation. Eyes closed. Ears poised to hear. I meditated on something the teacher read from John’s Gospel, something Jesus said to His disciples, His sheep know His voice and will not listen to another. (John 10:11-18, 27-28)
Faith met me in my thoughts, belief welled up in me convicting me that Jesus’s words were not just true, but they were true for me. He is my shepherd. I am His sheep. Not only do I recognize Him as my shepherd, but I know He is good, that His promises is to speak to me, and that when He does – You will know His voice.
Another deep breath. Another long exhale.
My mind settled down on that truth. And then IT happened. In that quiet, sweet moment where I paused and pondered this truth in my heart. SELAH. Something miraculous happened, it would become an everyday miracle in my life as I learned to tune the frequency of my heart to His voice, but in that moment – God supernaturally began to speak to me in a way I understood.
Now, I should clarify. It wasn’t an audible voice or burning bush. It was hearing, but in a graphic and visceral way. I heard the rustling of pages turning in a book, a pen scribbling curiously across the expanse of pages opening like a scroll. I heard the future as well as my past tapped out on a keyboard and felt these words forming on my tongue – I translated them to my notebook resting in my lap – my pen slicing the white paper with acute black markings: “WRITE IT DOWN! DON’T STOP WRITING TELL THEM MY STORY. Don’t give up – though it lingers wait for it – don’t give up – make sure the story is told.” (Habakkuk Chapters 2 & 3)
Immediately, doubt crept in – dismissing the exhilaration in the revelation. Who would ever read it? The voice of doubt asked. What do you really have to say?
Then, recognition. That voice did not carry my thoughts. It wasn’t God’s voice. Those were the words of the enemy sowing doubt like the serpent in the Garden of Eden. Seeking to paralyze me and distract me from God’s purpose and truth. Did God really say…
I refused to comply. My voice broke the tension in the room as I cried out to God, asking Him to silence the voice of the enemy and his cursing questions. I confessed my fear away embracing the favor of love, self-discipline and a sound mind. (2 Timothy 1:7) I rebuked the whisperings of the enemy who lies. He’d been taunting me about my newly acquired prayer language, and the dreams I’d carried for decades of being published as foolish pursuits, stupid and unattainable. Those things that kept the fear of failure and missing out firmly rooted in my heart. I declared it loud, “In the name of Jesus I will live in truth and freedom.”
What came next birthed an adventure that has grown trees of life in my life. Proverbs reminds us that when our hope is delayed or put on hold, it makes our heart sick. But when our hope – the scripture call it “DREAMS” – is fulfilled it becomes a tree of life. (Proverbs 13:12)
Write the Vision and Make it Plain! Over and over again my mind turned on that phrase, “Write the story.” I’d been working at the story, for four years I’d tried to tell it. A love story about divorce, redemption, reconciliation and restoration. I had 90 pages of rough first draft completed, some of it re-written – but still very raw. A story taking shape each time I re-read the printed pages in a generic notebook with my title and name pasted on the front. A make-believe story about love, loss and redemption. But, God didn’t want me to tell that story…
His Story, the one He birthed in me, lived nestled deeply in my heart and soul that night begging to be given life and flight at the tips of my fingers. It would be more than a decade later before the clarity met the reality of calling. In the time since, I’ve blogged about my life as the internet world grew full of voices and chatter about life, faith, world news, and contention. Then on to social media that, if I am honest, doesn’t always feel very social most of the time. I wrote. And wrote. And people read. They even responded in comments. And, as I wrote, I found something else, my voice as not only that of a teacher, but as a prophet and apostolic leader as well.
A few years ago, I read something I had written to a friend who offered me encouragement. I asked her what she thought about the page and a half of paragraphs we would introduce as training for our prayer team at church. She said, “Your words are beautiful. They should be written in a book beautiful.”
But, in 2007, I sat in my chair, the birthing of a God-sized dream taking place in my heart, and tears streamed down my face at the awareness that God spoke to me. I wrote these words:
“Last night, I tapped out the cadence of a storyteller’s heartbeat in keystrokes on a laptop. I sought to express the reality that came when my worst confessed fear interrupted my life. The death of my son ripped me in two. It birthed a story in me. A story that tragically turned, and fulfilled its threat to unravel the neatly constructed life I had been trying to cultivate for years. Something unexpected emerged – awash in pain, conflicting thoughts about the senselessness of loss began to flow from my mind and heart. Before I knew it – all the pain mingled with hope about how life had turned upside down and my aching heart relived the tragedy in a new way. Life would never feel normal again. But God…”
The tears of gratitude turned to tears of grief as I processed the loss my family had experienced two years before.
That night, I lay in my bed tossing and turning, the people of my life played like characters in a movie bringing me to wake up before turning over again to sleep. My mind refused to settle in that story I wanted to write – What had just happened?
I asked God why I had to write. Why tell the painful threads of tragedy and regret that had been woven into my life. Why couldn’t I just write sweet, syrupy love stories with no pain and suffering to mar the picture perfect scenes. I told him I didn’t want to write it.
The next morning, His voice met me in tender, yet vivid detail. Because telling the story of my life and including its painful details made room for the testimony of His glory to shine through. WRITE THE VISION AND MAKE IT PLAIN… I knew He heard my prayers in the night. He answered my spirit, speaking directly to my heart, giving me a scripture wrap my mind around. The same scripture my heart heard months before when I recognized writing was my calling and my specific purpose to teach and impart truth through life’s stories into others.
A gentle nudge in a familiar direction. Do it well, child.
In that season, I asked aloud, “Can this really be my destiny?” Could that which I run from, that which I fear and tinker with as a hobby… Could God turn my feeble mind into a port of imagination and my hands into an instrument of His revelation?
Back then, I walked by faith and not by what I could see, taste, touch, or smell. Praying that somehow God’s words would become truth in my life. I wrote using poor grammar and word choices. I wrote. And wrote. And wrote. I wrote eighteen page sermon dissertations on the names of God, and I wrote the testimony of my heart being crushed in marital strife. I wrote.
In 2021, I began publishing verse-by-verse Bible study workbooks for a hometown group of ladies who meet with me weekly to open God’s word and discover what we would believe if only the scriptures and Holy Spirit informed our faith. I began a business and moved the printing operations from my office to Kindle Direct Publishing in 2023 – I haven’t looked back.
Today, I create – write, speak, teach, and paint – as a passionate leader in God’s Kingdom, seeking to connect others to God’s heart through creative expression. Eighteen years and counting… And this is just the beginning!
