Sacred Space Secrets

I don’t feel like I’m in alignment with anyone and I feel uneasy even writing truths in journals anymore. Pages get lost, that woman goes through my room and stuff, I have no true privacy and there’s nowhere to vent my thoughts without feeling like there will be consequences in some way.

To be honest, the book of Skyla scares me a bit. I wonder if it’s a blessing I never published it. It was scenes of something that gave me much joy in telling the story of a woman who lost everything and found another chapter in love and purpose. But now it seems like I’m telling on myself that I had a seed of this desire in me to write such a thing.

If I could write my story from the place I’m at now – alone and feeling out of place and with no one that I resognate with and no one who truly sees me, hears me or loves me, I’d walk out into the world tomorrow in this dark cloud I’ve been living in and be touched by an angel unexpectedly – the kind that wears a warm smile, strong arms and a curious depth in his eyes. He would say something to my soul without saying anything at all but with kind words and an invitation he’d ask for my number, invite me to do something fun and adventurous and the love would rapidly turn into my dream come true that leads me out of this captivity mentally, emotionally, physically and spiritually.

I would have a true heart to share in my burdens with me and help me to be a good mom and leader for my chidren. He’d gladly step into the role of a father of the fatherless and he’d never place blame or shame on my shoulders. He would love me as Jesus loves the church with compassion, empathy and true care as if my heart was his heart and vice versa. He’s welcome me into his life, his home and his dreams that we would share in as one accord to do something great on this planet. He would ask me questions, want to unravel every single piece of me that I’ve kept hidden away and he’d never get tired of hearing me speak or simply staring into my eyes. He’d hold my hand, hug me tightly and make me feel safe at all times. With him I’d feel at peace and know I’m home and I’d never have to wear a mask or monitor my words around him. He’d see my flaws as beautiful scars that are as valuable as my strengths. He’d honor me, protect me, place me on the pedestal of his heart and never allow me to question my worth in his life.

He would be as the man who brings living water to the woman drinking from empty wells and he’d make sure I never thirst for anything again or feel the need to seek validation out in this world. Yes, if I could write my story, I’d be rescued by this man tomorrow and I’d never cry another tear again. I’d call Dennis and Alice and say, “Oh my gosh you were right! As soon as I closed the door on David I was struck by Heaven and love entered my life. I found my life partner and my twin soul.”

This time next month I’d be trying on wedding dresses and looking at rings. I’d have a forever family in him and we’d bring Drako home to be with us. I wouldn’t care about Dave’s behavior as I’d see he was just a catalyst to get me out of Texas where I’d walk into this magical moment where love found me here. And I’d wish nothing but the best for everyone who played a role in my journey, knowing that each person I met was part of the broken road that led me to love – real love.

We would join together in our purpose and I’d understand why nothing seemed to click before we found eachother. I’d know that my foundation was right and set in God’s souvreign hand.

I’ve been waiting for this day for so long and I’d look back and know that every tear was worth it. My suffering won’t even be worth comparing to the Glory of God.

I speak what I want a lot. I pray all the time and even write letters to God. He answers when I pray for my kids. That’s the love connection. When I pray about David I never get my prayer answered. So tonight… I pray for the one I feel I’m missing but don’t know who it is.

I ask God to bring him and to let me hear from him. I ask for guidance and to be shown the way to our divine meeting. I ask for the voices of doubt to be silenced and the criticism of all who have come against me. I ask for the reminder from the Lord that I don’t have to heal myself, fix myself or try to change who I am to receive the free gifts that God has for me. This man will find me as I am and not judge me or require me to alter anything. His love will bring me back to life as the story is written and he’ll never put a job, friends, desires for this world or himself over me. He will see ma as the jewel he’s been searching his entire life to find – as the answer to all of his prayers and the soulmate he has forever longed for.

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Sandbox of Surrender

Back in 2018, I found myself at a place of rock bottom that had saturated into my soul. The weights of this world had become so heavy, I didn’t see a way to carry them anymore. I woke one day with a voice inside of me saying, “Make a sandbox.” It seemed like a silly idea and I dismissed it, only to find it would return over and over again in the following days. Out of annoyance more than anything, I decided to go to the hardware store and buy the wood and tools needed to make a little box. As I created, more insight came along. And before I knew it, I had an entire idea come to fruition of a box filled with sand, hosting a little slit suitable for letters to be inserted.

My “Sandbox of Surrender” gifted me a place to write letters to God in prayer for help in the things I didn’t know how to fix or keep worrying over. I no longer felt alone in my troubles because I had an outlet. I imagined this space as a sacred keeping of my deepest inner thoughts and to my surprise, I began to see change in my circumstances.

I later learned about a story in the Bible about a woman caught in adultery who was surrounded by a pack of wolves (people following the rules that declared her guilty of adultery and sentenced to death). Jesus, who is called the author and finisher of our faith and our stories, bent down and wrote in the sand. They tested him again to see if he would “break the law” of their bibles and defend this woman or sentence her to death. He stood and faced the crowd, then spoke, “If anyone is without sin, let him cast the first stone at her,” Then he bent down again and wrote in the sand a second time. One by one they let down their weapons as they were convicted in their own hearts and walked away to leave her in peace.

As many come against me (and all of us) through our walks here on earth, I am reminded of these sandboxes where I found a place to lay down my burdens and speak from my heart, “I need help.” Tonight, I feel that way about this project as it follows the original book I had published and sent off in hopes it might become a movie. It’s a true story and I know it could help someone out there who is facing great tragedy and trial in a hospital room, surrounded by doctors who speak problems, not hope.

“You have to take God out of it,” they all say. I even received an email from my roomate with a script submission request for a faith based film that has no divine encounters involved. She suggested I rewrite mine but if i did it wouldn’t be true. I don’t want to hold onto foolish pride or miss any opportunities because I wish to be right or prove a point. But on the other hand I don’t want to walk in lies just to please the masses.

With this project, my original idea was to call it “Sparks from Heaven.” She strongly advised me to change it because she said I make the show religious and that will turn many people away. I honestly don’t care what it’s called and I certainly don’t want to exclude anyone from being drawn to or impacted by the powerful and inspiring stories of those called here. I just want it to be truth – a chord of hope for others and for myself too. I need good news. I need to be reminded that sometimes broken is beautiful and pain can paint purpose.

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Thy Will Be Done

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Tonight I lay down the pen because I don’t see any other way to move forward anymore. I will trust that whatever comes my way it’s God’s plan because I don’t ask for my own plan anympr

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