Renee Kinlaw's Blog

It was a typical night for you. Unable to get comfortable in the bed, you sprawled out on the floor with your knee thrown across the stool. It was the only relief you could get from your back pain. The rest of us were snuggled underneath our covers and well into dreamland when your call of distress woke us. I thought I was dreaming. You could not have possibly yelled out the word I thought you said. Momma, on the other hand, thought you were dreaming. I sat up in bed and listened to your conversation. She questioned you, again and again, unwilling to believe you saw a snake crawl by you. But you were insistent that you had. It didn’t take her long to find out you were not dreaming. After searching for the slithery thing, she was the one who found the little creepy crawly curled up underneath the drapery panel. I never knew my Mom could jump that high and that fast. Onto the couch, she pounced. I laugh today, wondering how we did not scare that poor old snake to death. By the time you finished pounding him into the floor, there was nothing left of his head. How you did not break through the floorboard is still a mystery to me. The other mystery is how that six-foot snake that you saw shrank to barely three foot long. The excitement of the night made sleep an afterthought. As the sun rose the next morning, we loaded up Old Blue and headed out in search for breakfast. With the ordeal we had gone through, you said we needed a special treat. I think you wanted to get out of the house for a while. The only thing you were less fond of than an unknown dog was a snake of any kind. Years later, while driving you to yet another doctor’s appointment, you conveyed your fear for me. “All your life, you have taken people at face value. You have the most trusting and loving soul of anyone I know. But, Baby, there are a lot of snakes out there, and you have been bitten a time or two. I am afraid as you grow older, your tender heart is going to harden. Promise me, you won’t let the snakes poison you.” You paused, waiting for me to reply, but I kept my eyes forward, letting your words sink in. “I don’t want you to ever stop loving people. But you must cut yourself some slack. You are not responsible for the actions of others. You can’t fix every problem. You cannot save them all. Do the best you can to help your fellow man, but in the end, remember the only person you must answer for is you. Be the best you, you can be, and let God handle the rest.” Many snakes have crawled into my life since we had that talk. Some have slithered away, while some have latched on. I have been knocked down a time or two. Still, I haven’t hardened as you feared; I have become wiser. I continue to struggle sometimes with wanting the approval and acceptance of others, but I am learning with each passing day, that it is okay if I am not. Not everyone is going to like me, and I am thankful--I don’t belong with everyone. The reality that I cannot fix nor save anyone is finally settling in. All I can do is be the best friend I can be. As you taught me, sometimes the best thing you can do is be a safety zone—the place where one can share without fear of condemnation or judgment. We all need those places. I have also come to grips with the fact that I am not enough. I was never meant to be. I am not a hero nor a savior. I am just me. And that is okay, too. The One who created me, flaws and all, loves me and deems me worth dying for. In Him, I find my identity, my worth, and my potential. No one can take that joy from me. In Him, I am free to be “me”—even the messy me. The day is approaching fast now when I shall hear the words, “Well done, Daughter” from the Heavenly Father. I hope that you are standing nearby. I want your neck to be the next one I hug, and I pray you will whisper those same words. “But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:37-39, NASB)

A few years have passed since I was that little 4-year old girl with sad brown eyes. Back then, I believed you could do anything. You were more than just my Daddy; you were my hero. I knew as long as I had you, there was nothing to fear. That’s why I expected you to fix my “Queenie,” my very best friend. You and Uncle Spud tried to explain that she was very sick, but I refused to believe that you could not make her well. Finally, you relented and made her a bed in the carport and promised me if she made it through the night you would get her help. All night you kept checking on her. When the sun rose the next morning, you found her still alive. True to your word, you and Uncle Spud set out for Conway in search of something to help her. You were still uncertain of your efforts and whether, my sweet dog, “Queenie” would live. Yet, you were willing to try. You never stopped doctoring and tending to her. Even when others told you your efforts were in vain, you never gave up. A few weeks later, she and I were running and playing in the back yard again. I do not recall every detail of that time, but I still cherish the memory and message you planted in my heart.~The FATHER can fix all things.~ As I grew into a teenager and a young woman, there were many things you could not fix for me. Oh, you wanted desperately to right all the wrongs, and I believe you would have if it had been possible. However, in those moments when you could not heal my brokenness, you carried me to the one who could—The Father. Even in your last days, when you knew your time on earth was coming to an end, and you were going to leave me behind, you continued to preach this message to me. “This is going to be hard on you, Renee. Promise me that you will not let go of His hand. Promise me you will run to Him and not away this time. You’ve got to lean on Jesus, Baby. His grace is sufficient, and He will carry you through this. Remember, the Father can fix all things.” I must admit that my Daddy was right, yet again. His grace is enough. When this thing we call “living” spins me out of control, tossing me here and there, I run to the Father, because, the Father does fix all things. He makes the impossible, possible. My dear friend, I do not know your struggle or what you are going through, but this I know—run to the Father—HE fixes all things. “I will cry out to God Most High, To God who performs all things for me.” (Psalm 57:2, NKJV) “If you can believe, all things are possible to him who believes.” (Mark 9:23, NKJV) “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9, NKJV)

“Stepping off the school bus, she saw her home for the first time through the eyes of others. To her, the home had always represented the beauty of a loving family. On this day, however, that all changed. Her feet touched the worn dirt path that led to her little house in the woods, as shame covered her face crimson red. She fought hard to hold back the tidal wave of tears that were threatening to break loose from her tightly squeezed eyes. She would not let them see her face. She would not let them know how their words ripped her heart. They had laughed at her and called her home a shack, and for the first time in her life, she began to believe what others had to say about her. *”It was that time of day. The time I waited for; the time I anticipated. Down the dirt road I heard you coming. Sure enough, there came the old brown Pontiac with a trail of dust trailing behind her. Daddy and Momma were home. I was so excited to see you, even more so, to see why Daddy was opening the trunk. It was not Friday—grocery day—so I knew something was up.Horror struck my soul when he pulled several bundles of carpet samples from the car and told me of his plans.“I’m going to take these and make a carpet in the hallway. You won’t have to walk on that cold floor anymore.”My heart sank. Our front door was in the middle of that hallway. Anyone who came to our house would see Daddy’s rug. As much as I loved him, and no matter how much I trusted him, I could not get the doubt and anxiety that this project, he was so proud of, would only bring me more pain. How could he do this to me?After supper, he asked me to help him. I guess he saw the apprehension in my eyes.“Trust me,” he said. “I promise you it will be beautiful when I finish.”To fully understand my feelings, you must know the background of my story. When my little brother was born, he was born with a defective heart valve. He was very sick and spent the first two years of his life in and out of the Medical University of South Carolina. The toil of medical expenses and time away from work led to a financial crisis. I still remember my mother crying as her furniture was being toted out of our home. The house we had been family in for the last six-seven years was being sold. My parents could no longer afford it.We were blessed to have friends who allowed my Dad to sharecrop on their farm in exchange for a small home to live in. I loved that little house. It was not much, but it was home. It was the one place I felt loved. The one place I felt safe and secure. We did not have a lot, but we had each other. (Time has proven to me that was the best gift.)Going to school was never easy for me. I was often teased and bullied. That is why my little house in the woods became my sanctuary. There, with my sister and brother, I was free to be me. Over the years of growing up in our little house, the three of us became very tight. We still share an unbreakable bond today. Each one of us knowing the other has our back.I can still hear the laughter of the older children on the bus as they called my home a shack. Their words cut deep. I remember looking up at the old house as my heart broke. She was my home, and she was beautiful to me. She was my friend, my haven. I wanted to defend her, but how could I? Looking at her from their view, I realized they were right. She was an old shack, but she was my old shack. And I loved her and all she represented.Now you can understand why I was so nervous when Daddy started his project. I wanted so badly to believe him. He had never let me down before. However, I could not get those mean and belittling words out of my head.From that afternoon on, when Daddy got home from work and supper was done, he would work on the rug. He would sit crisscross applesauce on the old vinyl floor and using his ruler and chalk box he carefully marked each piece to the same exact size as all the rest. I sat with him, watching him and handing him the tools he needed as he meticulously placed the pieces of cut carpet side by side. If they looked good together, they stayed. If not, he would choose another piece. Over and over the process continued until the last part of the sample carpet was laid.Finally, each piece had been cut and matched with its neighbor. The last step, the gluing, was all that needed to be done. Daddy stayed up late to finish as the rest of us slept. When the morning sun touched my face, I quickly pulled back the layers of homemade quilts to see the finished rug.It was beautiful. Completely and totally breathtaking. I stared down at the patchwork rug, feeling so proud of my Daddy, yet so ashamed of myself. I had doubted him when I should have trusted him. Let everyone tease me if they wanted. I had something they did not have. I had a rug made by my Daddy. One made from a loving man who gave his family the best that he could.Many years have come and gone since those days, but I will always remember that patchwork rug my Daddy made. I could not see the whole picture as he could. What he was confident of, frightened me.As I have traveled into adulthood, there are many days when I cannot see how all the different pieces of this life are going to come together to make something beautiful. I watch as my Heavenly Father works faithfully; still, I struggle with trusting Him to create a masterpiece out of me. I do not know how it will all turn out, this tattered mess called me, but I trust Him with all the mismatched pieces. Somehow, He will make sense of it all. Until the day of my completion, I must choose to believe in Him and trust Him to do the work.I spent many years, wishing I had a house like everyone else on my bus route, only to learn that God had given me something far better. He had given me a home. A home filled with love and acceptance. A home where no one was turned away."Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.” (Proverbs 3:5-6, KJV)“For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not evil, to give you and expected end. Then shall ye call upon me, and ye shall go and pray unto me, and I will hearken unto you. And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart.” (Jeremiah 29:11-13, KJV)(*Baggage and All, Renee Kinlaw, © 2017)

I don’t know how much longer I will be here-standing, fighting-engaging in a battle I am sure to lose. I’ve taken hit after hit. I’ve suffered significant loss.My feet tremble underneath me.My faith wobbles.My resolve is drained.The enemy cheers. He is relentless in his attacks-taunting, poking, shaming me until I can barely lift my eyes.How much longer will he wait?Will he not plant the final blow to my wounded soul?Why keep me here: waiting, expecting, and hoping for the end to come?Why not finish me off and free me from this fight?Finally, it comes. The punch that knocks me to my knees. I laugh at my spiraling downfall. It has come! It has come! In the ashes, I find peace; I find rest. There’s a calmness now.My Commander calls my name, offering me drink from His canteen. The refreshing water floods my being, bringing new life to my soul. I rise again. My stature is tall and strong: my shield and sword in my hands. I laugh at my enemy. His eyes widen in horror.“I had you down.” His bellowing rattles the ground beneath me, yet I am not shaken. “This cannot be. You are a weakling. A mere mortal. You cannot defeat me.”Grace falls like rain, washing away the marks of his torture.“I can’t, but He can.”Behind me looms a shadow; it covers me and the ground I stand on. Unmeasurable strength overwhelms me as I assume my stance. I am His warrior. I am His daughter-His beloved.I bend my knees and anchor my feet to the solid ground.“Knock me down, and I will rise. You can beat me, taunt me, shame me; you will not win.”Motioning to the One standing behind me-I flash my sword-and grin.“When I fall, I fall on Him.”“The Lord is my strength.”~Habakkuk 3:19~

I remember the first time I ever met my first soldier. I expected a giant of a man. Taller than my father. Stronger than the Hulk. Braver than the most gallant knight. But what appeared at my home was not what I thought it should be. Instead, I met a gentle man. A man of morals. A man who loved his family. A man who loved his country. He appeared as just a simple, ordinary man to most, but a hero to me.He's fought many battles, this soldier of mine, and I could not be prouder to call him Uncle.My goal was to have Loving Ms. Sheri published by June 1st. However, God had other plans. He had things to teach me before I could write them. This memorial day, I want to share a small excerpt with you. I pray the things you learn will create a passion in your heart to find out how you can help our returning soldiers and the families of those who are left behind. They deserve our respect and they deserve our support. The italicized information is factual. And there are many avenues in which you can help, all you need to do is look for the opportunity.I love you, B. Thomas...“Thank you, Graham.” The day had been more fun and enlightening than she imaged it would be.“For?” Graham shifted into the turning lane leading them from the heavy traffic of the interstate to the backroads that lead to Mt. Pleasant and finally to Palm Island.“This day. For allowing me a glimpse into your world. It was an amazing day.”“Thank you, Sheri. I enjoyed having you by my side.”“You never told me you were retiring, and you certainly never told me you were a Lieutenant Colonel.”“I’ve never been one to talk about myself.”“Seriously, Graham, a Lieutenant Colonel. That’s big stuff.”“It’s just a title, Sheri. I’m no better than the E-1 Private. We were all on the same team. Fighting the same enemy. My ranking did not make me a better man.”“But it took hard work and determination to get you there.”“It takes hard work and determination for any man to survive, especially a combat soldier. The young men who are enlisting now, deserve as much respect as I do. The battles they are facing are fiercer and more dangerous than any thing I went through. They need your admiration and prayers, Sheri, not me. I made it through, they are just beginning.”“I guess you are right.” Solemnness took over her features as she contemplated the many young men and women entering the battle field, fighting for the freedom of others, while their own families grieved their leaving. “More needs to be done.” She mumbled.“And that, my dear, is my reason for retiring from Graham and Son. My life has been so full, now it is my turn to give back. Besides the farm and youth camp, HOR is researching how to assist returning veteran’s as they come back into the states. It has always been a dream of mine to help my brothers and sisters on this side of the battle. Many of our soldiers come back to fight an enemy they cannot escape. They come back to broken marriages, financial loss, and many have medical issues that far exceed their benefits. According to the latest statistics, over forty thousand veterans are homeless on any given night. Over a million are at risk of homelessness. They deserve better than what they receive, Sheri.” Heat from his fiery passion seared her soul to the very cause he fought for.“How can I help?”“Do you really want to help?”“Yes, Graham, I do.”“Tomorrow morning, Michael, Cade and I are going to carry boxes of food to the homeless living under the old bridge off near the naval base.”“The one that was shut down a few years back for safety reasons?”“Yes, ma’am. That’s the one.” Graham nodded. “People are living under it.” Graham grimaced at the thought of his fellow comrades living in such a state. “They are good people, Sheri, they just fell on hard times and had no one to pick them up. We have found some of them jobs and we are trying to help with housing, but the need is far greater than our small organization. And each year, the number grows.”“Oh my, that’s horrible.” Sheri sniffled back the tears that tore from her soul. “I’d love to come with you.”Graham flashed his impish grin at her. “I’d like that, too. Afterward, I am going over to the Veteran’s Hospital to visit. I usually go every Wednesday. I also go by the B. Thomas Veteran's House to see if there is anything I can do for the families residing there while their loved ones are being treated. I was thinking maybe you could make some of your delectable biscuits for my friends.”“Oh, Graham, could I?” Sheri squealed with excitement. “You know what we could do? We could go to B. Thomas first and carry breakfast. I could fix some biscuits and apple roll overs. I could bring some of my jellies, too. And I have sausage and ham.”“You are an amazing woman, Ms. Sheri Dawson.”“No Graham, you are the amazing one. Look at what you are doing. Not only are you helping, you are enlisting others to help. You are too good to be true.”“No ma’am. There’s nothing amazing about me. I’m just too forgiven not to give.”

A dragonfly taps lightly on the window pane drawing my attention away from the computer screen. To the corner of the double sheets of glass, a bee buzzes anxiously around my crape myrtle. Down below, daylilies and gladiolas push through the dark soil seeking a ray of light. Birds are singing. Butterflies are fluttering. The time of revival and resurrection has come. The long night of winter is over. A new day has dawned bringing new life with it.How ironic my surroundings are to me as I observe them. On one side of my home, sits my church and in the front yard, three crosses stand tall and proud reminding me of the sacrifice made. On the other side, lies a cemetery, suggesting that life is but a vapor. And here I sit, in the middle, pondering the significance of what happened between the Cross and the Grave.Between the Cross and the Grave-Jesus was stripped of His garments, so that I could be clothed in His salvation and righteousness.“Then the soldiers, when they had crucified Jesus, took His garments and made four parts, to each soldier a part, and also the tunic. Now the tunic was without seam, woven from the top in one piece. They said therefore among themselves, ‘Let us not tear it, but cast lots for it, whose it shall be,’ that the Scripture might be fulfilled which says: ‘They divided My garments among them, And for My clothing they cast lots.’ Therefore the soldiers did these things.” (John 19:23-24, NKJV)“I will greatly rejoice in the Lord, My soul shall be joyful in my God; For He has clothed me with the garments of salvation, He has covered me with the robe of righteousness, As a bridegroom decks himself with ornaments, And as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.” (Isaiah 61:10, NKJV)Between the Cross and the Grave-Jesus gave up His family, so that I could join the family of God.“When Jesus therefore saw His mother, and the disciple whom He loved standing by, He said to His mother, ‘Woman, behold your son!’ Then He said to the disciple, ‘Behold your mother!’ And from that hour that disciple took her to his own home.” (John 19:26-27, NKJV)“For ye are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus.” (Galatians 3:26, KJV)Between the Cross and the Grave-Jesus became thirsty, so that I would never thirst again.“After this, Jesus knowing that all things were now accomplished, that the scripture might be fulfilled, saith, ‘I thirst.’ Now there was set a vessel full of vinegar: and they filled a spunge with vinegar, and put it upon hyssop, and put it to his mouth.” (John 19:28-29, KJV)“‘He who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’” (John 7:38, NKJV)“‘but whoever drinks of the water that I shall give him will never thirst. But the water that I shall give him will become in him a fountain of water springing up into everlasting life.’” (John4:14, NKJV)“For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.” (Revelation 7:17, KJV)“And he said unto me, It is done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely.”(Revelation 21:6, KJV)Between the Cross and the Grave-Jesus died so that I might live.“When Jesus therefore had received the vinegar, he said, ‘It is finished’: and he bowed his head, and gave up the ghost.” (John 19:30, KJV)“Most assuredly, I say to you, he who believes in Me has everlasting life.” (John 6:47, NKJV)“For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 6:23, NKJV)“And this is the testimony: that God has given us eternal life, and this life is in His Son.” (1 John 5:11, NKJV)Between the Cross and the Grave-Jesus, the Word of God was pierced so that the Word could pierce my heart.“But one of the soldiers pierced His side with a spear, and immediately blood and water came out.” (John 19:34, NKJV)“For the word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit, and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.” (Hebrews 4:12, NKJV)Forever, washing me and making me clean.“That he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word,” (Ephesians 5:26, KJV)“not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to His mercy He saved us, through the washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Spirit, whom He poured out on us abundantly through Jesus Christ our Savior, that having been justified by His grace we should become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.”(Titus 3:5-7, NKJV)Between the Cross and the Grave-He was placed in a tomb to give me victory over death, hell, and the grave.“Now in the place where He was crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb in which no one had yet been laid. So there they laid Jesus, because of the Jews’ Preparation Day, for the tomb was nearby.” (John 19:41-42, NKJV)“He will swallow up death forever, And the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces; The rebuke of His people He will take away from all the earth; For the Lord has spoken.” (Isaiah 25:8, NKJV)“So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Corinthians 15:54-57, KJV)His death and resurrection gave me life!Between the Cross and the Grave, the battle for my soul was fought. Between the Cross and the Grave, Jesus forever redeemed me, giving of Himself so that I could have that which I do not deserve.So, I will live with the determination to bring Him glory and honor. Praising Him always for His love and mercy. Sharing the message of His redeeming grace. While I reside here, between the Cross and the Grave.“Thus will I bless thee while I live: I will lift up my hands in thy name.” (Psalm 63:4, KJV)

A dragonfly taps lightly on the window pane drawing my attention away from the computer screen. To the corner of the double sheets of glass, a bee buzzes anxiously around my crape myrtle. Down below, daylilies and gladiolas push through the dark soil seeking a ray of light. Birds are singing. Butterflies are fluttering.Their message is loud and clear. “Spring is here.” The time of revival and resurrection has come. The long night of winter is over. A new day has dawned bringing new life with it.How ironic my surroundings are to me as I observe them. On one side of my home, sits our church and in the front yard, three crosses stand tall and proud reminding everyone of the sacrifice made. On the other side, lies a cemetery. And here I sit in the middle of it all.Between the cross and the grave.Both symbols of death and despair. Both bringing grief and sorrow, on this side of heaven. Yet, on the other side of heaven, they mean so much more. For God’s ways and His thoughts are not ours. From His vantage point, the cross and the grave resemble love and hope. They usher in a new day of peace and life.And here I still sit, living and breathing between the two.Between the cross and the grave one of Jesus’ disciples, betrayed him. This same disciple ended up taking his life. Another disciple denied him three times. Yet, when he realized what he had done, he wept bitterly and repented. Nine of the twelve ran and hid afraid that they too would be killed. Only one stayed with Jesus through it all.Between the cross and their grave, the betrayer took things in his own hand and never found peace. The denier, however, repented and found forgiveness, becoming the leader of the group. The nine who fled, they found the courage to carry the gospel throughout the world. Each one is believed to have been a martyr for their Lord. The one who stayed, well, he lived to a ripe old age and wrote the last book of the Bible-The Revelation of Jesus Christ.Between the cross and the grave, they walked with Jesus. Each one claiming the calling of Peter—“Feed My Sheep*” and “Follow Me*.” They took Jesus to the world.And here I sit between the cross and the grave pondering the call.“Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost:: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world. Amen.” (Matthew 28:19-20, KJV)What will I do…Between the cross and the grave?(*Refers to John 21:15-19.)

The crowing of the rooster stirred her. She could hear the sound of people beginning to fill the streets as the sun filtered through her small window. It was the dawning of a new day. Like so many days before, Anna smiled and pulled back the covers and knelt once again toward the rising sun.“How many years has it been now, Lord?” Her chuckle echoed off the cold walls. “Too many to count that’s for sure. Yet, You have always been with me. You’ve never left my side in all these years. Even as a child running through the mud, I knew You were near.”Anna’s mind slowly filled with memories of her childhood. She went back to the days that were spent splashing in puddles with her siblings. They would jump from puddle to puddle until every one of them was utterly drenched and covered from head to toe in the fertile soil of the Mediterranean.She could hear her mother now, scolding them for getting their clothes in such a state. But, not her Daddy. No, he was laughing at them. More than once he’d told their mother to let the children enjoy being children. Soon they would be gone, and there would not be much laughter left in the small house.The rain was a common nuisance for the tribe of Asher. There were benefits to living along the Mediterranean Coast, but rain was not one of them. Each day seemed to bring only more puddles and more splashing.She could see her mom shaking her head, “There’s always more water and mud than there are clothes!”“Oh, how I loved our little house. We lived further inland and did not get to see the great sea much. I remember our first visit there. I can still smell the salty waters, Lord. I remember that day so well. That was the day I met him for the first time.”It was a perfect day. Not too hot nor too cold, but just right. Her father had planned this special trip for her brother’s thirteenth birthday. Her brother was the oldest of the children with her falling only a year behind him. Chasing after the little ones and keeping them on the right path seemed a small price to pay for this day, Anna had thought.Later that afternoon, her mother remarked on how someday soon she’d be chasing her own children. She felt a rush of heat to her face that was new and exciting, yet somewhat frightful at the same time. She was consumed by the mixed emotions running through her, and she had no idea what they meant. With each footstep that brought her closer to her destination, the more anticipation grew within her soul.“What is it, Lord? What is it about this day that is so different from all the rest?” Anna remembered whispering. Raising her head to take in the view of the beautiful Mediterranean Sea, she saw him…and only him.He stood there on the shore looking out at the waves. There was something special about him, Anna could feel it deep within her. Suddenly he turned around, and their eyes met. They stood there frozen in time. Her heart was pounding, and her mind was reeling. And, just when she thought her last breath had come, he smiled at her. She dipped her head shyly and slowly raised it again to seek his face once more. He was still there, still smiling. Anna knew at that moment that her life was forever changed.“He was a good man Lord. So kind and gentle. Always patient. Thank You for allowing us the chance of love.”Anna soon found out the boy who had stolen her heart was the same age as her brother. It didn’t take the boys long to become best friends. Anna’s father often thought it was so the boy could get closer to Anna. He teased her about it when he came to visit a few weeks later.As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, his visits came more often and lasted longer.“You do know that boy’s not coming just to see your brother don’t you, Anna?” her Mother had asked her subtly one fall afternoon as they gathered what was left of the summer garden.Anna stood with an apron full of vegetables only to drop them as she locked eyes with him. Her heart hammered so hard in her chest that she knew her mother had to hear it. Her mother only laughed and picked up the bounty that was scattered on the ground.“Go on,” she motioned. “Go on over and talk to him. From the look on his face, I think he has something important to say.”Giggling to herself, Anna whispered, “I don’t know who was more nervous, Lord, me or him? We were destined to be together. It was Your plan from the very beginning. I can still hear the trembling in his voice when he asked me to walk with him.“Anna.” The way he said her name sent shivers down her spine and brought a fresh rosy pinkness to her cheeks. “May we walk together? I have something I would like to ask you.”They began to stroll towards the olive grove. Neither of them saying a word, not even when their hands accidentally brushed up against one another. At that moment, all of eternity stood frozen. Hearts were racing, faces were flushing. Such a sweet pair. Such innocence. They both walked staring at the ground, unable to even look at each other. This new path was overwhelming for both of them.“Anna, I wanted to tell you, I mean, I want to say, I mean, I want to ask you that is, umm, well, would you consider, I mean if you would like to that is. Would you give me the honor, and well it would be a great honor, but you should feel free to say no. But I would like for you to please consider it. Would you?”Amused by his awkwardness, Anna encouraged him, “What would you like for me to consider?” “Oh my, I wanted to ask, oh wow, this is harder than I anticipated. Anna, you are so beautiful and such a sweet and special girl. I am so out of my league. I would really like to court you and hopefully become betrothed to you. But of course, that is only if you think you would like that, and, well, if you don’t I’ll understand. I mean, I really don’t have a lot to offer you. But I would do anything for you, Anna. I mean if you would accept me.”Anna watched him shuffle his feet in the dirt. When he stopped and looked at her, she grinned at him and nodded, “I think I would like that very much.”“The year following that special night passed like a whirlwind and before long we were engaged. Mama and I spent countless hours together talking about the days to come and what I should expect as a new bride. Lord, I do miss her terribly. She sure did love You. Thank You for allowing me to have her as my Mama. She taught me that being a submitted wife was a way of worshipping You. She made a good home for us. She and Daddy had such a special relationship. They both sought your will in all things. You always came first in our home. Thank You for my Daddy. His example made it so easy to know that I had found my soulmate. He showed me what it was like to be truly loved by a father. His love was a sweet reflection of Your love."“Anna, my first born daughter,” her Father said as he pulled her into his arms, “My beautiful Anna. I pray you will always be as happy as you have made me. You’re all grown up now. Starting a family of your own. I hope you know your Mother and I are so proud of you. We will always be here for you, Anna, always.”There were tears in her parent’s eyes as she walked away with her new husband. Those first few years were hard. The expectancy of a child weighed heavy on them both, but with each new month, there was still no infant cry to be heard from their home. Anna didn’t give up, though, she just knew in God’s timing she too would hold a baby in her arms.“How I wish things had been different, but then again, that would not have been Your plan would it Father? No, Lord, even now I know You knew best. Even that dreadful day when the news came that I was now a childless widow. I knew it was in Your plan. The pain is still as real as it was those eighty-some years ago.”“Aunt Anna, Aunt Anna!” She could hear her nephew cry as he came running from towards their house from the olive grove. “Father said come quickly. The tree fell. It fell on…” His words were broken by heavy sobs of pain.Anna grabbed her chest and fell to the ground. “No, Lord, say it isn’t so. Please, Father in Heaven let this be a dream. I can’t live without him. I can’t bear it…I can’t,” Anna cried.The next few days were a blur. Anna stared into the distance. She made no attempt at conversation with the many family and friends who came to pay their respects. The only sounds coming from her was a deep, heart-wrenching sob that came from the bottom of her soul. There were no children, no one to hold on to, and no one to bring her comfort in her greatest despair.Her family and friends tried to console her to no avail. Her parents talked her into coming back home with them for a while. The grief and pain were so hard to bare. Anna spent most of her days staring out towards the olive grove, begging and pleading for this nightmare to end. She wandered through her days as a pale white ghost, just a fraction of the woman she used to be. The only happiness she found was in those first few minutes of sleep when her dreams were filled with her beloved. The dreams never lasted long before they gave into the same horrid nightmare. Over and over again, they came, as the days slowly slipped into months.“Then that day finally came, Lord. The day I awakened from my slumber. I had cried and begged You to return my joy and heal my broken heart. It wasn’t until I confessed my anger that You touched me. All those days of crying were nothing compared to this day. The tears before came from a deep loss. These tears were new and different. These tears came from a heart that had grown cold. A heart that had raised walls. A heart that was full of resentment.”“I had never known that kind of peace before. Lying face down on the hard ground. I poured out my soul before You. It mattered little to me who heard or saw me there in the middle of the olive orchard. I was broken and shattered. I needed You to take the pieces and began to put them back together. You did not judge me nor condemn me for my anger. No, like a father who loves his children, You held me close.”“It was my honesty with You, Lord, that opened the gates of my closed heart. It was then that I began to feel Your love shower over me. Such a sweet unexplainable peace flooded my being. It was then that I knew my life belonged to You. My days since have been spent here in Your temple, praising and worshipping You. I’ve never been sorry, even when others thought I was crazy. (She laughs softly.) They all thought I should remarry, but they did not understand. No matter how hard I tried to explain, they just could not comprehend that You were my life.”“I don’t know what this day has in store for me, but for some reason, Father, I feel as though You have something special planned. Could it be that this is the day when I finally see Your face? The face of my beloved. Whatever it is, Lord, I trust You with it. Whatever it is I will praise You. You are my life, my hope, and my redeemer. From now until I see You face to face, I will continue to worship and praise You, Jehovah. My Rock and my Shelter. Selah.”Anna rose from the floor with a bold determination to make this day count. This day was special, and she knew it. God was going to do something amazing, and she was grateful to be a part of it. Her slow-moving legs began to make their way towards the temple. With each step, Anna’s heart beat a little faster. Her soul filled with anticipation and she started singing, “This is the day the Lord hath made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.”Her weakened eyes caught the faces of the many people who filled the streets and gates of the temple. So many people in such a hurry. So many people lost and uncertain. So many people hurting and dying within. They all needed hope. They all needed Him, the Anointed One, the Messiah. Anna prayed that God would hear the cry of His people. She asked once again that God would restore them to what they once were, His Chosen Ones.Entering the temple, her eyes fell on Simeon. Her heart beat one thunderous and loud thump. Who was that couple standing before him? The man held in his hands a pair of turtledoves and two young pigeons. They had come to present their firstborn son to the Lord.The baby cooed, and his mother turned just enough for Anna to see the child’s sweet face. Anna grabbed her mouth to hold back the shout rising up from her soul. Then, that same hand made its way to cover her pounding heart.It was Him.The Promised One. God in the flesh.Anna willed her feeble legs to move. Each step became lighter until she was running towards Him. His face was so peaceful, so serene. In all her years, she had never witnessed anything like this. Tears were overflowing her face in tidal waves of pure joy.Simeon carried on with the ceremony and offered the sacrifice of praise for the gift of the firstborn son. He looked at Anna, sweet, loyal Anna. By the look on her face, Simeon knew she recognized it was the Messiah he held in his arms. He smiled at the mother and then motioned for Anna to come closer. With gentle hands, Simeon placed the Holy Son of God in her arms.And, there she stood, Anna--the forgotten one, the lonely one, the broken one-- looking into the very face of God Almighty. Oh, how beautiful the scene. How pure and holy He felt in her arms. His little eyes radiated with peace. His smile held undeniable love. Words could not describe the feelings that washed over her. She was holding the Promised One in her arms.Her Salvation, her King.The tears of joy that flooded her worn face were falling so rapidly that they began to cover His little face. With a trembling finger, Anna lightly brushed them from His rosy cheek. Then, as all of Heaven stood as a witness, His little fingers wrapped around hers. Her God was holding her hand as He had always done. Her heart began to beat again with passion. Her mouth could not hold back its praise. There during the hurrying and busyness, Anna started to proclaim His majesty. She held Him up for all to see. God was faithful! He was true to His Word. God had come to redeem His people once and for all. She handed the infant to His mother as her soul filled with jubilant joy.Her worn old body had been renewed as she began to dance around worshipping and praising Yahweh. Her feet moved swiftly, her voice the sound of an angel as her hands lifted towards heaven in pure genuine praise to El Shaddai, the Almighty God. Her song of adoration echoed through the corridors of the cold stone hallways and filled the throne room of heaven.“I will extol thee, O Lord; for thou hast lifted me up, and hast not made my foes to rejoice over me. O LORD my God, I cried unto thee, and thou hast healed me. O LORD, thou hast brought up my soul from the grave: thou hast kept me alive, that I should not go down to the pit. Sing unto the LORD, O ye saints of his, and give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness. For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. And in my prosperity I said, I shall never be moved. LORD, by thy favour thou hast made my mountain to stand strong: thou didst hide thy face, and I was troubled. I cried to thee, O LORD; and unto the LORD I made supplication. What profit is there in my blood, when I go down to the pit? Shall the dust praise thee? shall it declare thy truth? Hear, O LORD, and have mercy upon me: LORD, be thou my helper. Thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing: thou hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness; To the end that my glory may sing praise to thee, and not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give thanks unto thee for ever.”1The crowd that had gathered to witness the commotion watched Anna with wonder in their eyes. Some laughed, some mocked, and some even feared she was possessed.“Laugh and mock if you will,” her voice radiating with jubilance, “but hear my words. God is faithful. He has sent His salvation to us. Our hope is restored. Our faith has become sight. This is the day the Lord has made, and I will rejoice and be glad in it. I have seen my Lord; I have held Him in my hands. The One who has held me all my life is here among His people. Our Redeemer is here! He is here!”Anna retired later that night to her room still reeling with excitement. What a glorious day it had been. Her heart was full of praise. She could not get over it. God had chosen her, Anna, out of all the women in the world, to hold His Son. Her God, just a baby in her arms. The love of her life had snuggled close to her chest. His heartbeat next to her own. The God who had held her through every good and bad day had wrapped His tiny finger around hers.Anna peered into the night sky and knelt once more before her God.“Thank You for this day. You’ve been so faithful to me. I stand in awe that You would choose to let me see Your face, to touch it, to hold You in my arms. Every day of these 100 plus years has led to this day. This day, this glorious day, when You allowed me to see You face to face. The only way this day could be any better would be to enter Your presence to stay and dwell with you through all eternity. When all other memories fail me, Father, I pray this one remains. Thank You for loving me. Selah.”

My family and I were blessed to attend the 31st Annual Run to the Sun car show in Myrtle Beach, SC. We were a part of the thousands of enthusiastic spectators to enjoy this event. Among the cars, I found my dream car, the 1958 Chevrolet Corvette. Oh, she was such a beautiful lady, but so were they all, in their time, and in their own way.We, my husband Mike and I, share a lot of things in common, one of those things being a passion for old cars and hearing the history behind the each one. As we walked up one row and down the next, we took our time to speak with the owners, listening to their “heart of restoration.”One gentleman shared that his 1969 Chevy C-10 was the first truck he had bought himself. He had purchased it brand new by working hard through his high school years. He gave himself the gift the day after his graduation. It had cost him his “life-savings”, but the cost was little compared to what it gave him—a sense of pride and manhood.A tow-headed young man told us of how his vehicle had belonged to his great-grandfather and had been passed down through the generations. He, along with his grandfather and father, sat behind the old ‘55 C-10 Sidestepper, as we oohed and awed over the truck and the original bill of sale that dangled in the wind from the raised hood.The stories went on and on. Each one is as fascinating as the one before it. Each one with the general theme—“a heart of restoration,” a heart dedicated to spending their time, devoting their energy and pouring out of themselves for their treasure.It was not until I began writing “The Restoration Series” that I began to understand the amount of work and sacrifice that goes into restoring an automobile. I just knew I loved looking at them. I love the body style of the Classic American Muscle Car, and I love the chrome accents and the details that went into the grand ladies of yesteryear --the shiny buttons on the seats, the sculpted fins of the rear panel, the ornate hoods and taillights. They don’t make them like that anymore.The cost of restoring and maintaining a classic is very pricey. Not only does it cost time and money for the restoration, there is an additional price to be paid for the upkeep and protection of such an investment. Most of the owners we talked with have a special climate-controlled garage to house their nostalgic gem. Each time the vehicle is driven, it must be carefully cleaned. Although, I love the older cars and trucks, I am not sure that is a price I want to pay.Thankfully, God does not share my heart.From the beginning, He dedicated Himself to love and cherish me, giving the very best He had to purchase my soul. Restoring it, shielding and protecting it until the day of my perfection—the day I met Him face to face.During the reading of Leann’s Victory, you will find it is the process of restoring old cars that my character, Graham, not only builds relationships but demonstrates the love of God for all. He shows his family and friends the truth that no one is beyond God’s grace and mercy. No life is beyond restoring. God is faithful and always finishes what He starts.However, unlike cars, lives are not as quickly and easily restored. Instead of years, it takes a lifetime of dedication, allowing the process to fine-tune and develop each of us into the masterpiece that we were designed to be. I am sure you are like myself, always finding that I need another touch-up, a little polishing and a little more repairing.With every breath we take, He is continuously molding us, remaking the brokenness and bringing out the beauty in our scars.With the red letters of John 3:16, God tells us that His love for us is so great that He gave the best heaven had to offer in Jesus, the spotless Lamb of God. If we choose to accept this gift, asking His Son to be our Savior and Lord, we will receive an even greater gift. The gift of “everlasting life.” Everlasting is never-ending. That’s God’s love for you and me. It is through this love that the restoration continues. He will not leave us as we are—broken and corroded by sin. Instead, with each new day, He works to bring out the best in us, leading us to our destiny in Him.King David said the “Lord leads him beside the still waters,” in Psalm 23. He did not say He led me there once. David said He leads me. Our Father is always providing what we need, never giving up deeming our lives too impossible or too costly.I don’t know about you, but I am so thankful that our Father has committed Himself to the restoration of this ole girl. He never gets discouraged, thinking the process is taking too long, nor frets over the price He has spent out on me. Every day, with grace and mercy, He continues, pouring Himself out in order to bring me into a place of divine perfection.As the owners at the car show, I pray that God basks Himself in the glory I bring Him. I pray I bring Him pleasure and great pride. I pray as He continues this process in me, others will see His “Heart of Restoration” and come to know Him as Savior and Lord. Until then, may I ever be patient and still, as He works out His will in me.Never forget this truth my dear friend:You are never too far gone that the Father cannot restore you!

Yesterday, my family and I were blessed to attend the 31st Annual Run to the Sun car show in Myrtle Beach, SC. We were a part of the thousands of enthusiastic spectators to enjoy the event. Among the cars, I found my dream car, the 1958 Chevrolet Corvette. Oh, she was such a beautiful lady. But so were they all, in their time, and in their own way.My husband, Mike and I, share a lot of things in common. One of those things is a passion for old cars. We also share the love of talking with people and hearing the story behind their classic. As we walked up one row and down the next, we took our time to speak with the owners, listening to their “heart of restoration” for their prized vehicle.One gentleman told Mike and me that he held on to his 1969 Chevy C-10 because he had worked hard to earn money to buy the truck for himself the year he graduated high school. It was brand new back then, costing him a pretty penny, but the cost was little compared to what it gave him—a sense of pride and manhood.Another told us his vehicle had belonged to his great-grandfather and had been passed down through the years. He along with his grandfather and father sat behind the old ‘55 C-10 Sidestepper, as we oohed and awed over the truck and the original bill of sale that dangled in the wind from the raised hood.The stories went on and on. Each one is as fascinating as the one before it. Each one with the general theme—“a heart of restoration.” A heart dedicated to spending time, devoting energy and pouring out of themselves.Until I began writing “The Restoration Series” I had no idea of the amount of work and sacrifice that went into restoring a vehicle. I just knew I like them. I like the body style of the Classic American Muscle Car, and I love the chrome accents and the details that went into the Grand ladies of yesteryear. The shiny buttons on the seats, the sculpted fins of the rear panel, the ornate hoods and taillights. They just don’t make them like that anymore. Through my character, Graham Daniels, though I am learning all about it.It is during the process of restoring old cars that Graham builds not only builds relationships but demonstrates the love of God for all. The “heart of restoration” did not begin with mankind. It came from the love of our Heavenly Father, long before you and I knew we needed restoring.Unlike cars, lives are not as quickly restored. Instead of years, it takes a lifetime of dedication, allowing the process to fine-tune and develop each of us into the masterpiece that we were designed to be. I am sure you are like myself, always finding that I need another touch-up, a little polishing and a little more 2. We are never going to reach perfection, and that is okay because we have a Father that has a heart of restoration.With every breath we take, He is continuously molding us, remaking the brokenness and bringing out the beauty in our scars.John 3:16, tells us that “God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son so that whosoever would believe on Him would have everlasting life.” Everlasting is never-ending. That’s God’s love for me, and it is through this love that the restoration continues. He will not leave me as I am. Instead, with each new day, He works to bring out the best in me, leading me to my destiny in Him.David said that the “Lord leads him beside the still waters,” in Psalm 23. He did not say He led me there once, David said He leads me. Our Father is always providing what we need, never forsaking us along the way. In Psalm 51, David asks God to restore the joy of his salvation. Not that he lost his salvation, but he lost the joy. You see, we all venture wayward sometimes, we all get scratched and banged up, but our Father has a “heart of restoration,” always bringing us back to our place beside Him.I don’t know about you, but I am so thankful that my Father has committed Himself to the restoration of this ole girl. He never gets discouraged, thinking the process is taking too long. He never gets upset worrying over the cost of my restoration. Every day, with grace and mercy, He continues, pouring out Himself on me.Just as the owners at the car show, I pray that God basks Himself in the glory I bring Him. I pray I bring Him pleasure and great pride. I pray as He continues the process in me, others will see His “Heart of Restoration” and come to know Him as Savior and Lord. Until then, may I ever be patient and still as He works out His will in me.