Forgiveness

Do y'all know that Matthew West song called Forgiveness?

We play it...so hopefully you've had a chance to hear it on our station, but let me tell you a little something about it.

Last night I worked the Winter Jam concert, and Matthew was one of the artists. He shared the story behind the song, and I had absolute tears in my eyes at the end of his story.

I'd tell it to you...but why don't you just check this out?



What if your story is like that one? One of such huge hurdles that you think you can't go on?

What if you allowed God to propel you forward?

Think on it....

Me Too

I failed to post for a couple of days...y'all, my head was so full. Not of winter illness, thank goodness, but just of thoughts. Ever have those days? When your head is so full that something NEEDS to come out...to make room for something else...but nothing budges? Welcome to my week.

Been thinking, though, about something I heard Mitch Kruse say on Tuesday when he was here to chat with Lynne:

The authenticity of being able to say ME TOO.

He was talking about the verse in the Sermon on the Mount that talks about planks in eyes. And after I scribbled Mitch's words in my journal, I wrote, What if I stopped judging long enough to say me too?

What if we did? What if we stopped looking at other people with such disdain and dared to admit that we, too, have felt that way? That we, too, have known that pain?

What if?

 

That night after work, I stopped by the grocery store to pick up a couple of things for dinner, and I got in line behind a middle aged woman buying an assortment of food and sporting a sour expression. I never heard anything she said to the cashier, but then again, I was pawing through magazines and drooling over candy bars. {This is why it's true that you shouldn't go to the store hungry...}

As the lady reached for her bags, the cashier, a young lady in her early 20's, I'd say, carried some around and deposited them in her cart. I moved to the register and glanced at the cashier as she came back around the side of the lane. She made a face, which I attributed to a wince of hair falling in her eyes...and she flipped her hair out of the way.

Then she looked at me and said ever so quietly, "Can you pretend like you didn't see that?"

Then I knew. She'd made a face at Little Miss Sweetness that had probably said something rude to her.

I smiled and said, "You know what? I've made that face before, too. On my drive home, actually." Not how I really wanted to be remembered in the mind of a very nice grocery store cashier, but in that moment, I needed to say me too.

As she handed my change to me, she said "You were SO much nicer. Thank you."

What if we said me too? To cashiers who are feeling mistreated. To friends whose relationships are dissolving and they feel inadequate? To kids who messed up big time and feel like life is altered unforgivably now? To parents who sit in a mental sea of regret? To an accountability partner who confesses falling? What if we stopped offering pointed advice for one minute and said...me too?

We Need...What He Gives

"We were all created with a lane to run in...we have been given certain gifts and talents and ability and personality so we can fulfill our purpose...I don't need what's in your lane. I don't need your gifts and talents and you don't need mine...You need what God's given you, so figure out that...figure out your gifts, your talents and what He's called you to be...and then your job is to cheer on the runner in the lane next to you...not try to trip her or run in her lane with her. Just be glad she's doing her thing...Focus on who you are and who you are called to be."

 

Powerful words spoken by Holly Wagner on this morning's Mid-Morning, where she talked about a book she co-wrote with Nicole Reyes...Survival Guide for Young Women.

 

The book is written for girls in their 20's and 30's but I think those words work for all of us, age excluded.

 

I went to church yesterday and sat in my pew listening to a handful of beautiful ladies in our church sing alongside Ryan on the praise team. And I sat there thinking...I wish I could sing like that. I wish I could serve along with him in that way. I wish we could be up there together every week. Instead, I closed my eyes and gave our songs my best lip-syncing efforts.

 

Every time I sit behind the Mid-Morning microphone and interview someone, I find myself wishing I had Lynne's finesse and poise in interviewing. I wish I didn't stumble over sentences and halfway through a thought, completely lose sight of basic vocabulary skills. I wish I could run down bunny trails and find my way back. But she's been doing this just a couple years longer than I have and I have much learning to do.

 

And you have them too...those things you wish you had...the talents, the skills...and maybe even if you DO have them, you wish you had them better or that they came more naturally to you.

 

But my story is not to sing. At least while holding a microphone. In our church, that is Ryan's gift. That is Abby's gift. That is Sara's gift. My gift is to pray for the worship team as I sit through their practices. My gift is to smile at them as they sing, knowing they could use a measure of encouragement from the platform. And my gift to the person next to me is to sing as quietly {or um...muted entirely} as possible.

 

My calling IS to interview...and I never thought it would be. But I'm not Lynne. Never will be. Doesn't mean I won't grow and improve with time...but I'm not who she is and my own journey in interviewing will be mine.

 

My calling is to stay in my lane, run my own race, and not try to trip up those around me or crowd them in their lanes.

Today I'm a Listener Again

I admit coming to you with a well-jumbled heart today.

This morning, Lynne talked to Cindi McMenamin about her book When Women Walk Alone, and I admit that while I'd read the summary of the book and thought I knew the subject of today's program, I had no idea...

I thought they were going to talk about women who walk alone through life circumstances because, for whatever reason, those around them choose not to really walk WITH them.

And they did speak to those people.

But Cindi's message is for all women. Including women who are in good, healthy marriages with loving friends - and who are surrounded by people who are active in their lives.

And yet they walk alone.

And Cindi even dared to say that it is good to walk alone, because it reminds you of your dependence on the Lord.

I will admit to you that as I am writing these very words, I can't even see the screen because I have tears overtaking my eyes. This day has not been an easy one...one in which I've struggled with stupid {unfounded} fears and annoying insecurities that resurface at the most inopportune times. {Is there ever really a good time for an insecurity to surface?}

Today I write to you not as the confident producer bubbling over with great ideas for shows to come. Today I write to you as the producer who feels like she has failed in the simplest parts of the job and in truth probably would have served a greater purpose by staying home today.

Today I write to you not as a giddy newlywed {though I am crazy giddy in love with my ever-patient and loving husband} but as a new wife who feels like she is tearing headlong into married life without a clue as to what she's doing. A wife who wishes she knew the secret to past wounds.

Today I write to you not as a station employee who has great insights to pour into your soul.

Today I write as a listener.

Today I write as a girl who heard Mid-Morning from a literal front row seat behind the engineering board, but I also sat with journal in hand, nodding vigorously at words that seared into my own heart - much like they may have for you.

Today I write as a girl who has the playlist pulled up on another screen because, as many of you say to us so often, the songs that are playing today are just perfect.

Because I heard these words from Kutless: When the path is daunting, And every step exhausting, I'm not alone, I'm not alone, no, no. I feel you draw me closer, all these burdens on my shoulder...I'm not alone, I'm not alone...

...and in my mind, I heard Cindi's words again....it's good to walk alone because it reminds you of your dependence on the Lord.

And then I heard Meredith Andrews' voice... And every step, every breath you are there... Every tear every cry every prayer... In my heart at my worst... When my world falls down... Not for a moment will You forsake me...Even in the dark, even when it's hard...You will never leave me.

I heard again....it's good to walk alone because it reminds you of your dependence on the Lord.

And then there was Plumb....Though I walk, though I walk through the shadows, and I, I am so afraid...Please stay, please stay right beside me...With every single step I take...How many times have you heard me cry out? And how many times have you given me strength? How many times have you heard me cry out, "God please take this"? How many times have you given me strength to just keep breathing? Oh I need you...God, I need you now.

...It is good to walk alone because it reminds you of your dependence on the Lord.

And then I heard this one. This anthem from my relationship with my wonderful Ryan...

What ever may pass and whatever lies before me
Let me be singing when the evening comes
Bless the Lord oh my soul
Oh my soul
Worship his holy name
Sing like never before
Oh my soul
I worship your holy name

Today I'm a listener. A listener with a box of Kleenex and a hurting heart. God is still writing a story with me. Today's chapter just hurts more than yesterday's. But He's writing. Refining. And that means I'm still worth writing. That's a reason to say...Bless the Lord...oh my soul!

And Speaking of Stories...

Our blogs in 2013 have wrapped so heavily around our theme of letting God write your story...and I've loved the lessons we've been learning together from quotes...from our guests...from Scripture...from the Lord.

Today was our BLT show. If you're new to Mid-Morning, you might not know that BLT {which stands for Bekah...Lynne...Thursdays} is our weekly show when we talk about this, that, and the other {most often the other takes over entirely}...and today we talked about stories.

Not our stories this time...but stories we read growing up. What a fun show to hear from all of  you about the books you devoured as kids...and how the stories you read helped you identify...helped you learn...helped you enjoy.

I guess in some ways, this is about our stories too. After all, when you were reading books growing up....didn't you ache to be someone in the pages? Didn't you wish you had her hair or this one's talent?

Maybe it's not all bad. Maybe it pushes you to believe you can be even a measure like the person in the pages. That you can pursue your dreams like they pursue theirs. That the kind of love they have could be yours one day.

I grew up on the Baby-Sitters Club books. I wanted to be in the club. I wanted to belong like they did. I wanted an official kit that declared me a good babysitter {which is what I did for a career until college}. And in fact, I tried to be just like them when I went on my jobs. I tried to have the kind of fun with the kids I watched that all the girls in the book had with their kids! In fact, the book Jessi's Secret Language even inspired me to want to learn sign language, and I ended up taking lessons for over a year.

And then there were the Sweet Valley Twins...the perfect valley girls with their silky blonde hair and perfect eyes and dimple in their un-zit-clogged cheeks...and I was just sure I was Elizabeth. We were both good students and loved to write, and I longed to have a twin. I wanted her name to be Megan. {Somehow I don't think I grasped that it wasn't possible to create a twin many years into life...}

 

And the Mandie Mysteries that made me wish I had a secret Cherokee friend who would hide away with me and teach me all sorts of life wisdom. I read these in elementary school, and when I played school, I always made up quizzes for my students out of the Mandie mysteries.

 

 

Lynne and I both read the Boxcar Children. This one always made me wonder if I would have had the mad survival skills if I had to run away from home...and it caused me to turn my playhouse outside into an "boxcar," complete with mismatched toy dishes that I imagined came from a dump.

This one was one of Lynne's picks for a growing up series of books too...I've never heard of it but I won't lie...I'm intrigued. According to Wikipedia, the books were created to urge young women to pursue nursing careers so they could help with the war efforts.

And the books that seemed to dominate the end of our conversation...all the books by Janette Oke. Oh how I love this woman. It is because of her that I have the love for books, stories, and writing that I have today. I've written her notes to thank her for her investment in my life...an investment she didn't even know she had. I wanted to be so many of the young women she wrote about...and I learned much about the grit and tenacity that makes a strong woman...from these lives she penned.

 

So these are the books that helped shape who we were. These were the pages that gave us people and scenarios to imagine...these are the places we learned life lessons and were pushed forward. Perhaps they are, after all, part of our story.

Obedience of Faith

I love Beth Moore. LOVE HER. She can make me think like no other teacher...and I'm in awe of how she immerses herself in Scripture to learn from its core. So inspiring.

Her daughter, Melissa, has followed deeply in her footsteps with love for Scripture and original language study, and today on Twitter, she commented on the phrase "obedience of faith" found in Romans 1:5.

Obedience of faith.

Faith...that thing unseen. To blindly obey as God directs into...the unknown.

GULP. {Anybody with me on that gulp?}

With that thought rolling around in my mind, I sat down at the board to share today's Mid-Morning with Lynne.

Our first guest up was Teresa Harshbarger, who is the owner of Believe Art from the Heart jewelry. When Lynne asked her to share the story behind the way the shop started, Teresa said these words that sent me scrambling for my journal:

I asked the Lord one day during my prayer time what I could do to glorify His name.

WOW.

What an open-ended question! And Teresa had no idea that His leading would be to start making jewelry. That wasn't even on her radar. But she had prayed the prayer and was faithful to His leading...and now...

And one by one, the guests took their spot on our show.

Jessica Bruno had no idea her life story would one day find her living in a multi-generational home with her husband, son, step-daughters, parents and grandparents...and that her talent for DIY decorating and renovations would capture and inspire blog readers....

Hillary Burns' dad rather disastrously {and repeatedly} ruined wool sweaters in his attempts to help with the laundry, and what seemed a frustrating loss found new life in clothing for kids...which spread to a whole company of darling upcycled wool products, sold under the fun-to-say name of Baabaazuzu.

Tricia Goyer leads a crazy busy life as a popular author and mom of four...but that didn't stop her from running with a new dream placed in her heart...the Not Quite Amish website that allows people a chance to learn how to simplify...and enjoy.

And Melissa Hinnant started making cute boot socks while on bed rest...and before she knew it, she had hundreds of orders for her handmade cuteness...something she never would have even tried, had life not been unexpectedly interrupted.

Five ladies. Five twists in life stories that none saw coming. But each one embraced it and as a result, life has never been the same. They have businesses, blogs, a chance to share faith and healthy life habits...

...so what about me? What about you? What about the unexpected twists? The disasters-turned-victories? The side trips that lead to fantastic destinations?

What if you said yes to obedience of faith?

No More Excuses. For Real. No, Seriously!

I'll admit it.

I'm addicted to The Biggest Loser.

 

Unfortunately I usually watch it while I eat my dinner...which is rarely a salad or a Subway sandwich. In fact, quite often it's pizza. I feel a little guilty about that.

But as you may know, a new season just started, and I hunkered down under the Colts blanket last night, remote in hand, to watch the recorded show from Sunday. The contestants burst into the gym, eager to have their first workout...eager to change their lives...eager to take the opportunity given them, symbolized by a key on a chain around their necks...

...and fifteen minutes later, they were tripping off of treadmills, throwing up on the floor, and sobbing in corners.

And the trainers stood back in first-day-fashion and shook their heads.

Transformation takes a lot of work. A lot of grit, a lot of discomfort...sometimes flat-out pain, sometimes public humiliation...and most of all...

...a good, hard, honest look at who they are. Those people who show up on the ranch for the first day of workouts are not usually soaking in self-esteem. And in no time flat, they are flat...on their faces...painfully reminded of who they are and who they are not.

Last night, one of the guys (haven't learned all their names yet. And by that, I mean I haven't learned any of their names. I'm terrible with names.) was crying in his room and one of the girls stopped by to encourage him. She told him that he may have been the first to fall off the treadmill, but if he makes it to the finals, he can stand up there and say "I fell down, but I got back up."

Whether your life change is a weight issue or a heart issue or any other issue...please know that the same things that are true on The Biggest Loser ranch are true for you.

If there's something about your story that isn't going right...and it's something you have the power to change...change the thing.

It's not going to be easy. It's going to require grit, discomfort, pain, humiliation, you name it. Bottom line: unlikely to be fun.

But. It. Is. So. Worth. It.

Get back up. Seriously STOP making excuses as to why you can't change this about yourself. Philippians 4:13 says I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. He will give you the courage...the strength...and the determination. But your job is to take what He gives and apply it.

What do you say? I can't answer that one for you.

Are you ready? Stop making excuses. For real. No, SERIOUSLY.

YOUR Story

Last week on our first live Mid-Morning of 2013, we started exploring the idea that God is writing a powerful story with each of our lives...and we're spending this year diving into looking at ways to best live that story and bring honor to Him.

I've felt prompted to use this blogging space this year more as a place to stop and ponder...with the occasional peek into life behind the scenes in Mid-Morning land. So last week I wrote some blogs about writing your story. Scroll down and take a peek if you'd like to see!

This morning I ran into this quote on Twitter:

"Too many people are missing their story because they're watching the story of others."

Dan Allender

 

I'm intrigued. And convicted.

 

Is that me? Am I so concerned with what others have...what others can do...the lives others can reach...that I'm completely dissatisfied with my own story?

 

It used to be.

 

Like in junior high when my friend Lori could sing beautiful melodies that made the choir teacher smile.

 

 

I was over on the side singing my heart out...in the safety of my heart where no one could hear squeaks and missed pitches.

 

Like in high school when my friend Amber sketched a gorgeous portrait that was purchased by a county judge.

 

And I was huddled at my own art table, trying to make Mrs. Potts look something like she did in the Disney movie. {My version wasn't even refrigerator worthy.}

 

But that was then. That was the turbulent teen years. This is now. Now that I'm an adult. With a job. And a husband. I'm not focused on others' stories now.

 

Well.

 

Except when I posted this on Facebook last night:

 

I have to admit I feel a little bit like a loser and mostly sub-par because I am not on the bandwagon of having a "word for the year." I thought about picking one just so I could fit in and feel better about myself but it would take me to March to figure out what it would be, so I'm cutting my losses on this one.

Maybe you've seen it...these bloggers that are focusing on a word for the year. As you might have noticed, I'm not much of a one-word sort of girl. I'd need that whole cloud up there. {Doubled.}

 

But there I go again. Feeling left out and like my story is less important because I'm not part of the in-crowd. This time it's not for lack of melody or artistry...but because I'm too much. Too wordy. Not drawing others in with my focus on a word.

 

And then later last night, I sighed my way heavily onto the bed as Ryan rushed through the room, armload of hangers in tow.

 

What's wrong? he asked.

 

You can work circles around me. We've been working all weekend and I love the way the house looks and I so appreciate all your hard work, but I can't keep up with you.

 

As we settled into bed later, he brushed hair out of my face {and I love it when he does that} and looked me deep in the eye and said, I don't like it when you feel like you're less-than because our strengths are different. I get focused on a list of things that need done and I don't want to stop until they are...but you...you've written all the thank you notes for the wedding and you make scrapbooks to keep all our memories...and I could never do those things. But they're not less important than what I can do.

 

Gulp.

 

There I go again...looking at his story and thinking it matters more because his work is visible. It's the coat rack on the wall, the freshly steamed carpet, and the organized file cabinet drawer.

Mine is hidden here:

 

Creativity buried in code I can't even understand...but it comes out as beauty.

 

And isn't that life? Each of us living our own story...written in code we can't understand...but it's beauty that needs to be lived. And we're in danger of missing it...all of us...because we're looking out there. Out there to someone who can sing. Or draw. Or condense a year into a word's focus. Or clean and organize.

 

Look IN. Know that your story is not less-than because it's not the same as the person sharing your home...or behind the blog...or holding the brush.

 

It's everything. Because it's YOURS.

Write His Words

Do you wonder...as you think about God writing your story...when you'll understand it?

 

When these pages He's scripting with each day you breathe...will make sense?

 

When you'll see something? Anything?

 

Does life feel a bit like this?

 

 

Lynne talked to David W. Pierce this morning...the husband of Chonda Pierce..whose life story has seen as many dark pages as laugh-filled fodder for his wife's ministry.

 

As he shared his story, and Lynne asked him what prompted him to write his memoir...he said these words which sent me scrambling for my journal so I could scribble them down in not-my-best-handwriting:



 

 

 Writing is so much about discovery.

 

I'm a writer. I get it. I journal quotes and verses and heart thoughts, and in so doing, I learn. I learn about God. I learn about life. I learn about MYSELF. I learn about what God is doing in my life because suddenly...I can see it. It's not just white space staring back at me but words covering that space that bring His work into something comprehensible for my soul.

 

You're rolling your eyes at me, aren't you?

 

You hate to write. You don't even own a journal. And you aren't sure you could find a pen on command.

 

But what if you tried? What if you tried writing - even awful-penmanship scrawlings of things your hear and feel? And what if you began to learn about yourself?

 

Even when words fail...you have a marker that God was there and wildly at work:

 

 

 

You begin to see the deeper truths behind the obvious.

 

You learn from others' quotes (yes, even tweets) and sometimes they drive you to prayer. Even simple, two word pleas.

 

 

 

When you find truths that you might not need in that moment but you stash them away for the future, because you know God is always teaching - even if the lesson isn't needed right away.

 

 

And you are encouraged on your way as you recognize something that was true in your past...and you are affirmed that what God did in you was good. And necessary. And loving.

 

 

He is always writing. And we would do well to write His whispers to our heart. Not because He needs to know He's being heard. But because our minds forget...our hearts falter...and we fail to see the pen held firmly in His grip.

 

Yet He writes...

In the Waiting

This morning, at the end of our BLT show, we had a caller whose words cut through my heart, because I recognized them.

They were my words not so long ago.

She said she'd been praying for answers in many different areas of her life for a long season and answers weren't coming. And she's tired of people saying just wait for God's timing...because she'd just like to see an answer to something somewhere.

Hearing the advice to wait for God's comfort isn't comforting.

My mind went back to my own desert season 2 1/2 years ago when the man who said he wanted to marry me then came back and said he needed time...he needed space...he needed to go into a wilderness and I couldn't come with him.

And for months, I waited. I waited while pounds fell off my body because I'd take two bites of a meal and feel so full that I couldn't finish eating. I waited while I wore out flip flops, walking miles and miles around the campus of the school where I worked. I waited while I pumped more gas into my car so I could drive around the countryside because going home to my house seemed too suffocating. I waited while I scribbled entire journals full of prayers - hopeless, longing, agonizing prayers that begged God to heal the heart of the man I loved so he would come back to me and we could be married and start the life God penned for us.

And nothing.

And then finally...an answer.

He said no.

My Isaac walked away, leaving behind a girl who fell flat on her face before her Abba, crying from a pit so deep she didn't even know tears dwelled there. She declared she would never love again because he had been the one God intended for her and she didn't anything or anyone but what God intended.

And I glared at people who said to wait for God's timing. To wait for Him to move and act. That there were "other fish in the sea."

Slowly...almost imperceptibly, God began to move in my heart. He began to heal the brokenness that was there. And the first time I trusted again...the first time I dared to allow someone near me, he did the same thing. Well, he didn't promise to marry me, but he gave me hope of a future...and then he walked away. And I recoiled into my shell and shook my finger at myself for even daring to try.

And I glared at people who said to wait for God's timing. To wait for Him to move and act.

Our caller is right - there is little comfort in those words when your heart despairs.

But then one day God stirred another heart. The heart of a man named Ryan. And as I sat in the darkness of my living room, expecting to hear him say he was in love with....fill in the blank with any one of a number of people who would have loved a chance with him...I heard the words, "I have feelings for you."

Feelings that tumbled into love faster than I even knew possible. And all those things that were broken when Isaac walked away were suddenly whole again. All the broken promises were made again...and this time kept. As I dared to extend love to him, he accepted it and poured twice as much back to me.

I remember in the desert, on a particularly painful and hopeless night, I gripped my heavy Bible with both hands and for hours, I paced my living and dining rooms, reading these words I did not believe...hoping somehow the repetition of them in the suffocating stillness would heal my heart.

 

"But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. 'The Lord is my portion,' says my soul, 'therefore I will hope in him.' The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him."

I didn't believe them that day, but I said them anyway. Over and over. Through gritted, hopeless teeth, with tears soaking my shirt.

The waiting was long. It was hard. But in that season, God grew me. He transformed my heart - completely without my knowledge. And when the day came that Ryan dared to approach a broken, distrusting heart, I was ready. I was ready for the redemption because I'd been willing to suffer the waiting.

Take heart, waiting friend. The words of Lamentations 3 are true. The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases. Great is His faithfulness.

He has not forgotten you. He is writing your story, even in the waiting. And He's a Magnificent Author.

Your Story: Written, Directed by and Starring God

Every life is a continuous, unfolding story. A series of experiences and actions.

Even before you were born, God made plans for every second of every day of your life.

Your eyes, God, saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. ~ Psalm 139:16 ~

And while your life may, at times....

...perhaps most of the time...

...feel terribly ordinary...God can and WILL do extraordinary things in you and through you...

If. You. Let. Him.

What is it that makes you feel ordinary today? Unending laundry? Dishes overflowing in the sink? Deadlines stacking up on your desk? Kids that won't cooperate no matter how much you push? That suffocating invisibility that seems to surround you?

Here's the good news. None of that is ordinary to God. Those are the things to which He has called you on this day. Those are the tasks before you and He asks you to do each one as an act of worship to Him.

And you just never know who might be watching. Who is eavesdropping on your life and seeing how you act and react with each thing that comes your way. Who is peeking silently into your world and being moved by your words and actions.

You matter.

Today on Mid-Morning, we talked about the lives of four extraordinary Christians.

Oswald Chambers...whose devotional book My Utmost for His Highest is deemed a classic but wasn't even published until after his death. But through his seemingly ordinary days, God shaped a faith that when scribbled on paper, produced treasures that inspire Christians around the world today.

George Mueller...who began his life as a lying, stealing, gambling young man that no one would ever imagine God could use. But when he gave the Lord his life, he was called to open orphanages that cared for thousands of children over time. His journals chronicled the ways God provided (at the very last minute, often) food for the next meal and for all the other needs of the orphans.

Eric Liddell...was a runner whose bold decision to honor God and the Sabbath by NOT running the race he was favored to win (because it was being run on Sunday) pointed to God when he did win a race on Thursday that no one imagined he could win.

Corrie ten Boom...who, along with her family, was imprisoned in a Nazi concentration camp for harboring Jews during WW2 and spent the rest of her life sharing her story of God's grace and forgiveness.

You know what you have in common with these four people?

God.

The same God who wrote their stories...is writing yours.

Let Him.

This year, throw down the pen and allow HIM to write.

Shout His glory as you live your days...whatever they hold.