~On Faith, Waiting, and the Work Behind the Scenes

First, wow, a big thanks to my favorite Writers Association (Wisconsin, of course) for their encouragement and support in 2025 and for the prompt that inspired this (not so short) piece—

“Welcome to this week’s writing prompt. 2025 is nearing its end. Is something else in your life also nearing an end? Write a poem or short prose piece about this ending or about one that happened earlier this year.”

I was born in 1955, (How’s that for a topic sentence?) the second of four siblings to deeply committed Christian parents, having both given their lives over to Jesus at the age of five. 

But it wasn’t until the sudden loss of my brother in 2008, I began to pursue spending longer periods of time with God, praying, reading scripture, and journaling. Quiet morning hours with Jesus became my lifeline to deal with the stress of balancing work and aging parents, my family’s grief, and my mom’s cancer. 

During this time, as God began to peel off the protective layers of self-sufficiency and pride that covered up the rage and shame preventing me from loving myself and anyone else, least of all—most of all? —God, I turned to writing as a form of worship.

See, God had set me right in the center of the arts community in my hometown—the place where Thomas Wolfe says, you can’t go back, and Jesus says, point blank, a prophet—inspired teacher, artist, writer?—isn’t accepted. But dance had been healing for me, now it was time to help others heal.

Over the eighteen years of that work, it became much more of a spiritual battle than I’d ever expected. Many of the students—mostly women and children—had been emotionally, physically, and sexually abused. God grew a heart in me to help heal and, eventually, the effort I poured out, and the opposition I experienced, took its toll. 

During those years, I began to share my journal writings on a blog called “Not According to Plan” with others in need of a little encouragement. Today, having finally completed the novel I’ve been working on for over a decade, I have moved on to the next part of that journey—you know, (sound the trumpets) querying! And up next, I long to assemble a collection of my spiritual reflections written over those years (for those in need of a little encouragement.)

The question is always when and how God will use my books—not if. His timing and ways are not like ours. They are higher—holy and sacred—and if we want to be a part of God’s plan for us rather than our own, we have to learn to be still. This is where our trust grows—our peace, patience, and joy. This is where we are drawn in, nearer to His heart—in order to know Him and His love. This is where He molds and shapes us into the Image of Jesus (Peace, Patience, and Joy.)

The trial of waiting that we inevitably endure helps us see that everything—our work, our family, the complicated situations in and around us—are in His hands.  

Ultimately, I long to be faithful, content—whether my work reaches one reader or 100,001–only that it draws that one, nearer to the heart of God. My prayer has never been for more books to be sold, but for more people to know how loved and accepted (and cherished) they are. He has, oh, so skillfully changed my focus from my own insecurities to my reader’s security. 

My years of struggle with illness and anxiety, self-doubt and disappointment were vital in allowing me to write in a way that can speak to others’ enduring grief and loss and disappointment. I will continue to “soak up” scripture—Bible open in lap or resting beside me—as the Holy Spirit transforms me, morning by morning, renewing my mind, line by line, day by day, so that, I am able to test and approve God’s Will for me—His good and pleasing and perfect Will. 

And since learning to pass over the burdens of my heart, I haven’t been disappointed yet. I trust that He is working for the good of those who love Him, and if I can be a small part of His plan, in some small way, then I have found my bliss. 

Only, may I show what it’s like to have a close relationship with Jesus in the coming year. He guides me as we work together—and work things out together—sitting at his feet, pen scribbling across the page, and I am not disappointed. 

Be still, He says regularly.

That’s what I need to hear at the close of 2025. Maybe you do too.

Happy New Year, dear one. Thanks for reading.❤️

Scripture references for reflection: Isaiah 55:9; Psalm 46:10; Jeremiah 29:11-12; Luke 10: 38-42; Romans 8:28 and 12:2