Promise of God

To feel the world collapse inside,

Is much for one to bear alone.

A flame goes out when it’s small, but

My hand will shield you like a stone.


Your heavy weight brings you down, and

causes you to stumble. Your hands

Bruise and scrape, but trust in me. As

The twister rages, my presence stands.


The trails down your cheeks aren’t weakness,

You’re not broken when your voice shakes.

Even when the color is gone,

Just sit with me, the sunrise awaits.


Life is not over and the world

Spins on. And though you want to

Scream at me, though you want me

Gone, I tell you this; I love you.


Every Knee

In Romans 14:11, it says every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus is Lord.

And I think there are only two reasons why someone would take a knee.

There will be those that bow out of respect, knowing their God and knowing that He deserves all their praise, their lives, for he saved them from what they couldn’t defeat. They won’t look Him in the eye, for they know their place as his children, but also know that His gift to them, by His Son, Jesus Christ, and received it.

And then there will be those that bow out of fear to the God they never believed in. This omniscient Creator of Heaven and Earth that is now before them, more real than anything on Earth. And they will not be able to look Him in the eye, like a child that realizes what they did, and that it was wrong.

I know who I will kneel as. I am a child of God, a princess of heaven, along with all my sisters in Christ, and as my brothers in Christ are princes.

I respect my Father and anticipate the day I can kneel before him the sin of this world still stuck on the cross for the rest of eternity.

And I hope to see you beside me,

Created to Write

Nudges to Speak

For this post, I am doing something a little different. Last night at Breathe, multiple ideas came to me (no doubt from the Holy Spirit). I know that if I just pick one, I won’t get back to the others. So! I am putting all three into one blog post.

Worship as I Can

The image that comes with worship is standing, hands held high, singing so the next neighborhood over can hear the verses. And I see that at Breathe and during Sunday sermons. But sometimes, when I’m standing in the crowd, singing the words I know by heart, I find myself distracted. Either by someone I know, or from thoughts I can’t get to leave.

In those moments, I feel my lower legs and knees grow sore. And I get either a feeling, or a thought, that tells me, ‘sit down and actually worship me.’ In those moments, God is reminding me that he can see my thoughts and knows that I want to worship him, but don’t know how.

But it isn’t every time. Sometimes, I just don’t feel the gravity of the words. So what helps me get it is by putting my experiences and memories into the words. When singing about how we fall short or we aren’t enough, I remember the times I had my back to the wall in my room, curled up on my bed, crying because there was an obstacle that I just couldn’t get passed. When singing of God’s great love and grace, I remember when I would call out to him and he would envelope me in the peace that surpasses all my understanding. I know those moments happened, they are real. And that reaffirms that the songs I sing are not just Christian karaoke we come together to sing each week. We sing them because they are praises of what God has done in our lives and the lives of people around us.

Opening my mouth and repeating the words doesn’t mean anything if the singer doesn’t have a reason to. So I remind myself of all my reasons for singing that God is my Heavenly Father, who loves me enough to allow me to mess up and willingly picks up all my broken pieces.

Giving up our Crowns: A blurb of a story

The room was filled with people. Every single one is different from all the others. There is not a single similarity, but one.

Everyone, wears a crown.

They could be made of paper, or even the finest gold. But everyone, tall or short, young or old, poor or rich, everyone had a crown.

A man walks into the room, armored with a quiet demeanor. He looks as though he just came from a battle. He walks up to the crowd and stands there. The crowd stares back, adorned in all their crowns.

One person sees the holes on the stranger’s wrists, and two more through his sandaled feet. This person walks forward, slowly, as it leaves the comforts of the crowd and the assurance of the next day.

This person stands a few feet away from the stranger, who looks at them with the gentlest gaze. The person takes off their crown. They hold it in their hands, scared to let go. This crown means everything to them. To give it up is to surrender their choices, their aspirations, their life.

The crowd watches as the person sets the crown at the feet of the stranger. The now crown-less person gets down on their knees. The stranger offers his hand. The person takes it, standing beside him, and the crown on the floor.

A few more people walk forward. They are as hesitant as the other person, but their crowns are on the floor in the end. People walk over to stand next to the new crowd forming, but don’t surrender their crowns. But when they see that those that have are different, in a good way, they surrender theirs to understand just what it is. Some pick their crowns back up. Some keep close to it on the ground, with it in arms reach in case they need to grab it and run.

Some don’t surrender their crowns and join the larger crowd again.

Some in the far back of that crowd never saw the stranger.

The stranger sends those without crowns into the crowd, so those too hidden to hear of him, and what he has brought and done for them.

Some crown-less people go, some bring people back with them.

Some stay at the stranger’s side, not understanding that he is wherever they go. And they are afraid to tell those with crowns the weight their crown carries.

And that they don’t have to carry it.

Fighting my Battles

When I hear God will fight my battles, I’m a little offended. I go on defense for some reason. ‘No God, this is my battle. Let me do it.’

But as I think about it, a battle is one in a war. And I’ve heard of wars. No one truly wants to be in a war. After a battle, there are soldiers, torn flags, blood and grime, and misery.

I can barely stand the sight of one major injury, if all my ‘battles’ were real battlefields, how could I fight in such a setting?

I couldn’t. I know this. (Add in how I’m sorta a pacifist, and…)

My battles may be mental, emotional, and spiritual, but God can be on all those planes. And I know they are as traumatizing as a physical battle, though some may not see it that way.

So I am thankful that God faces my battles. I’m glad he goes before and comes back, calling it my victory.

Because he knows I could never succeed in the fight.

God Bless,
Created to Write

Paint to Canvas

The past weeks (or months) I have had an outlook on my life, mostly to do with my novel.

I have had the privilege to bring what’s on my heart to God yesterday. And earlier today I talked to a close friend of mine about it as well.

I’ve told myself that God helping me as a partner. We are working on the novel together. But the past weeks, the progress is at a standstill. I realize that I’ve only worked on it when I felt God telling me about a part of the story. I don’t sit down and start writing, I wait until he tells me to.

Which… isn’t often. Or I’m just not hearing him because of all the other things around me.

I had the mindset that God created Atniuq, the novel setting, and I am simply discovering the world.

But I got it all wrong.

God didn’t create Atniuq, I am. That doesn’t mean I can do it without God, though. I need Him. But…

Here’s an analogy:

There’s a student that walks up to a blank canvas and paints. All the tools are there. The student picks up the brush and dips it into a paint. The student puts the paint to the canvas, a beautiful landscape in their head.

But slowly, they see that they have no idea what they are doing.

But the teacher walks over. They put the brush down and go to a new canvas. The teacher shows the student different strokes they can us. They explain and demonstrate how to blend two colors, and how to shade. The student listens, practicing themselves on other canvases. When they have a better understanding of the techniques, they take out a new canvas and start.

They go through the steps they’ve learned. The teacher watches, sometimes asking why they chose a color, or what the student is creating. The teacher isn’t judging the art, but making sure the student understands what they are doing. The teacher shows the student how they can use a mistake to add to the picture, instead of tossing it away. The teacher doesn’t hold the students hand, or give the student a picture to recreate. The student makes their own picture.

But the student couldn’t create the picture without the guidance of the teacher.

That’s how this is. I’m not saying that I can write my novel without God. I’m saying that God did not give me my creativity and imagination for Him to hold my hand through the revision process.

He gave me the tools. He allowed me to gain knowledge of spelling, grammar, story structure, etc. I don’t even think about those things consciously anymore. They are like knowing the basic colors and brush sizes. It’s second nature.

God gave me my creativity to think of the idea. He also gave me references, the world and people around me, as insight, not to copy, but to inspire.

I’ve been scared that what I write won’t be perfect. But I should know that it won’t. It used to line up, but now that needs to change. So I’m just… I need to know that God will help me, not do it for me.

I shouldn’t be afraid of mistakes. Because you never know what they can lead to.

God put a verse on my heart:
“Walk by faith, not by sight” ~2 Corinthians 5:7

I feel like I’m at a standstill right now. I have a canvas with some paint on it, but I’m not sure what to do with it.
But I just need to sit down, pick up the brush, even for a little each week, and get something added. It could be crap, it could end up in the final draft.
Either way, it’s progress. And God will be there every step of the way.
…Just not the way I thought before.

God Bless,

Created to Write

Hero of my Story

When people think of their story, they think of the protagonist. They think of a hero who saves the day, overcoming all the obstacles. The hero has enemies, but in the end, the hero prevails.

But, people assume the identity of this hero. They place themselves in that position, and put themselves in the center of the story.

What if I told you that is not true?

Maybe I’m wrong. Let’s look at some things people look for in a hero…

1. Good. In order to face great evil, one must have great good.

2. Selfless. Putting the needs of others above their own to save them.

3. Courageous. Not backing down from what they need to do.

4. Humble. A hero never asks for anything in return.

5. Caring. Because a hero who does not care for the people he helps is no hero.

6. Perfect. …Wait.

All heroes have flaws that they must encounter, right? But when there is a hero, people don’t think of their flaws, because a hero is different. A hero is the standard people hold themselves to, and who wants to strive to have faults?

We could go through this list and try to rationalize it.

I’m good.

I… can be selfless. Sometimes.

I’m not afraid of… everything.

I’m humble. (Really?)

I care about people.


…I’m, not perfect.

Not even close.

We are not the heroes of the world’s story. We aren’t even the heroes of our story.

We are the civilians that cheer on the hero when he passes.

We are the hostages that are relieved when the gun is taken away from our head.

We are those that look on in horror during the worst stretch of the story, right before the hero arrives in a blaze of glory.

We strive to be like the hero. We want to meet him, see him, and talk for hours on end after he saves us.

And we are also the ones that boo him when we find damages or faults in his methods, even when there are none.

We are not the hero.

Jesus is.

Jesus is good. He is the definition of good.

Jesus is selfless. He died on the cross for everyone, even those that nailed him there.

Jesus is courageous. He knew what he had to do, and he sweat blood because of it. But he still went through with it.

Jesus is humble, because while he was on Earth, he did not show all his power. He instead walked the path of a man.

Jesus cares. He cared so much that he would rather die for people that will never know him, so that they can have a chance at living in Heaven one day, instead of eternally condemned to Hell.

Jesus, the Son of God, is the only one who has walked the Earth unblemished. He is the perfect hero we all need.

Though we don’t deserve him.

He finished the victory against sin and death. That is the heroic story we should tell. Not our own.

His Holy Spirit guides us, and breaks the barriers before us, making him the hero even to this day. Not us.

Never us.

We can work our butts off to change that. We could do everything in our power to claim that title for our own.

But no matter what you do.

It is the True Hero that allows you to do it.

And though we can never compare to his Great Name…

We can rest in his grace and know that he will always be there to save us. Both from the enemy, and from ourselves.

God Bless,

Created to Write

Country Lass Basic Timeline and Explanation

Hey everyone!

I’ve got something on my mind, so I’d like to share it with all a y’all! (…anyway)

I have recently watched Black Panther (AWESOME! WAKANDA FOREVER!) and I’ve been thinking about my Country Lass story that takes place in the MCU.
Specifically, the different parts of her story.

There is her origin, which takes place right after Winter Soldier (She’s 15.5-16).

Then there is Adventures, which is the summer after Origin (Still 16).

Return is the autumn after (Almost 17, but not quite).

Promise, which I am still writing, is from December to… I’m not quite sure yet. Definitely into August that year (17-17.5). Age of Ultron takes place in the story, but Heather is not there to see it or participate.

Probably a small time skip to when Civil War takes place. Heather is pulled into it and chooses Steve’s side. At the end, she has a paralyzed leg (due to past events as well as the airport scene) and she is in Wakanda (18, maybe).

The next movie (if I have my timeline correct), is Black Panther.

Here are the facts:
Heather is in Wakanda, Bucky is in Wakanda.
Heather is working on getting a new leg, courtesy of Princess Shuri.
Heather cannot leave Wakanda (I have my reasons).
And the important one: Heather will NOT be set into the Black Panther storyline.

When I put Heather into something, she has a role in it. It matters that she is there, and, since she’s my protagonist, she gets some of the spotlight.

What else is Heather? A white woman. So, no, I am not putting her in a storyline she doesn’t belong in. What would she contribute? Plus, she can’t even walk right now. The only thing she could possibly do is (SPOILERS!!) be in the lab whenever something is going on, like bringing in Ross, or T’Challa getting his new suit. There’s no point to rewriting the movie into the CL universe if Heather’s only in one scene. (The movie’s events still happen, just like all other movies that Heather is not apart of.)
Also, how would she fare against Killmonger? Here’s a hint: SHE WOULDN’T! She’s not as skilled as he is, super soldier or not. And, if you’ve seen the movie, I’m sure his hatred for white people hasn’t gone over your head.

So yeah, Heather may be in Wakanda at the time, but I will not be writing her into the storyline of Black Panther. I may reference it in her own story, but there is nothing I see fit to change that Heather could improve on (a rare occurrence that I don’t want to change a movie, but hey! It’s that great!).

Heather will probably be, I don’t know, stashed away or something. In a village to get used to her new leg, or until she can get her new leg? It is probably months before Bucky is out of cryo, and Heather will be back to the States by then.
I still am confused by the timeline, but I’ll sort through that another day.

Wakanda forever!

~Created to Write

The Greatest Showman: With New Ears Part 9

Here it is, the final post for ‘The Greatest Showman: With New Ears’!!

Spoilers, but if you are reading this one, you either A. Watched the movie, or B. Don’t care.

The song is *drum roll* From Now On!!

This song, in it’s basics, is Barnum lamenting on his choices in the past, knowing how he’s hurt those close to him, and deciding that he’s going to change.

This is a lot like what it feels like to come back to God. After the valley mentioned before, God takes us out and reassures us that we are loved. And at this point, we can hear him clearer.

We may have done many things that got us glory in the world, but that makes us less of who God wants us to be. We’ll never be satisfied.

We promise that we want to follow God with our whole hearts. That the world can’t deter us from this.

We feel invincible, because God is invincible and he’s on our side!

This is a song of victory!

The chorus, “We’ll come back home” is to God’s arms. And some day, we’ll go home, to Heaven.

Christ is creating the home for us. Somewhere I saw a quote that said, “It took God seven days to create Earth, and he’s been working on Heaven for 2,000 years.” That’s just how much better it will be. He’s making it PERFECT! And we shouldn’t expect anything less.

And they don’t just say they will come back home once. No, that phrase is sung over and over, because we know that we will have to keep coming back. We aren’t perfect, and we will stray. But we will always come back, and someday, we won’t have to ever leave, and that time will be eternity.

And I think that is the perfect note to end on for this series.

Play these songs, singing them loud, and remember to listen with new ears.

~Created to Write