Posted on by She Who Rises

Looking for hope?

There’s a song filling every corner of my brain lately. It’s soft and somber, yet Gravity swells with emotion.

It paints a picture of us individually, worried, and stressed out over the details of life. Whether frivolous or meaningful, beautiful, or devastatingly painful, together they create an enormous weight, distracting us from what really matters and wearing us out day to day.

But what really matters?

Hope.

Not in things or changing circumstances. But, hope in a promise. And a hope that promises are kept by those who make them. Really, one person in particular. But back to the song.

Seeing all of your stress and struggle, God says, “Come up here with me. I want to show you something.” And clasping your raised hand, pulls you upward, from the ground through the atmosphere and beyond space and time, to the peaceful spot at his side. Sitting high above it all with your creator, you see what God sees.

High above the joy and the pain, you see beauty and order and process. And you realize that there’s more to all of this than you can see from your small corner of your world.

There are whole galaxies and universes upon universes being formed from nothing, stretched, destroyed, and re-formed anew. There’s an unknowable number of creatures, big and small, traveling carefully plotted paths that still, somehow, include a million options for them each to consider.

Complicated, yet there is a distinct order to what looks like chaos from down below. And it’s managed by one person, the one holding your hand right now.

… Sovereign … you are …

This part of the song stays on replay in my quiet moments.

Sovereign is a word that I know but rarely use. So I had to hit the dictionary to refresh my memory on its meaning and, among its definitions, found that it means: to possess supreme or ultimate power.

As in, one who has ALL of the power.

As in, the buck stops here. ✋🏾

It’s something to remember when you turn your attention back to the details of life. It’s something God has demonstrated in all manner of ways: here on Earth, in the heavens, in the Bible, and likely, in your life too.

That power, that reason for hope, is in these simple promises, from the only one who can always keep them:

I got this. And I see you.
I got this. And I’m with you.
Believe. Don’t doubt me.

Posted on by She Who Rises

Will I see you again?

Someone I used to know is gone… actually two of them. A brother and sister whose mother is a longtime friend of my family. We spent a little time together as young kids and got to know each other better as teens in the new city we had all somehow migrated to. Both in their prime and with a family of their own, they left this place only a couple years apart, just like they came into it.

I hadn’t spoken to either of them in years. Yet, I am certain that running into each other would have been a joyous occasion for all of us. More than joyous.

What do you say to a mist, a vapor that was the presence of a person you once knew?

She was low key and quiet. He was a natural leader who was a whole vibe all on his own. Both were cool with everyone, a rarity.

I have vivid memories of who they were when we were young. And newer ones through the eyes of the people who have known them in the time since. She had become a nurse. He an accomplished activist. By all accounts, they had remained the same.

To say that I am sad about their departure doesn’t capture it at all. Truth be told, I am ashamed of the gap between now and then, though I know it goes both ways. Life happens. It gets in the way, and before you know it, there’s a bookend. No visible next chapter in which to run into them again. I am sorrowful for my own loss. And I’m heartbroken for the people closest to them, those who will miss them the most. But there’s more.

The day he passed, I imagined that his sister would be waiting on the other side, ready to embrace him the moment he crossed over. I saw the joy on their faces upon reuniting, but also the somber realization of all they were leaving behind. And that’s when it hit me.

Where would they be? Where will their souls, the part of them that I knew, live from now on?

They belonged to a different faith tradition. I don’t know how their beliefs may have changed or evolved over the years. In particular, I don’t know what they thought of Jesus. And that’s the part that troubles my already broken heart.

How can two people, both beautiful in so many ways and who did so much good, not end up in heaven?

My memory took me to a story Jesus told about people who won’t believe (Luke 16:19-31). He said that if they are not persuaded by Moses and the prophets, they won’t be persuaded by someone who rises from the dead. He was talking about the religious leaders of the day and the prophecies that predicted his life and sacrifice. They were stubborn in their disbelief and he knew that even his own dying on the cross and rising again wouldn’t change that.

My belief in Jesus, his words, and his sacrifice tells me that it’s possible that we won’t all be together again in the same place. The hard truth of my faith tradition says that no matter what we do in life, where we end up is based on a single thing. It’s based on a choice to believe that Jesus is who he said he is despite all of our doubts, pain, and unanswered questions. It’s a choice to believe in an eternal life with him or an eternal agony without him, however that may look.

What adds to my grief is the fact that I don’t know what they believed, and now it’s too late for me to do anything about it. I’m ashamed of my own timidity, my lack of courage, and my propensity toward distraction. I’m sorry that I didn’t at least say, ‘I want to see you again. I want you to live. So please, believe.’

I can’t say it to them now. And I won’t know the outcome of their journey until its my turn to make the trek. But, on the off chance that no-one has ever said it to you… I want you to live. So please, please, believe.

(c) creatorskind 2021-2023

Posted on by She Who Rises

Just Stay … please?

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but…

You are not alone.


You are seen.


You belong.


You are needed.


You are no accident.


You were made with intention, regardless of what’s happened since.


You have a purpose, despite all the pain.


So, stick around a little while longer to see what it will be.


Decide to stick around for one more day.

Just one – one day at a time.

Every day.

And I promise you will get there, love.

Because, for real, you really are loved.

If you need a virtual ear, hit me up @ creatorskind@gmail.com 💜

Posted on by She Who Rises

What’s love got to do with it?

Last week, I told you that you are loved – present tense. You are and that will always be true. But I would understand if you didn’t believe me. I would understand if you were frustrated by those kinds of claims. When you look at your life or the suffering around the world, I would understand if you had a hard time seeing God’s love in it. I would get all of it because I’ve been there.

When I think of someone loving or taking joy in me, especially God, I expect to be rejoicing. I expect that same love and joy to intrude upon my circumstances and change the atmosphere. I expect it to change me. I do not expect to remain in struggle, pain, or fear. I do not expect to remain brokenhearted. Really, I don’t expect to suffer at all. Yet, we do.

There are times when my war with depression, anxiety and PTSD seems to be on the brink of a victory, though not in my favor. That rowdy bunch seem like they are winning on days when the dosage of my medication is no longer high enough, or when my hormones fluctuate and collide, or when too few sunny rays have penetrated my skin. On their own, this doesn’t sound like much. But in real life, they are a force pushing me to the end of my rope.

On those days, taking a shower or making a sandwich require a herculean effort. Just having the routine, a bit of an odor or a growling stomach aren’t enough. It takes more than a need. On those days, all I see when I look in the mirror, despite all the evidence to the contrary, is failure. It breaks my heart and holds me down.

On those days life is interrupted by painful flashbacks that disrupt the business of everyday life, at work, while driving or cooking dinner. On those days, even my dreams are no escape. There nightmares are the norm. On those days, any demand placed upon me makes panic flicker across my shoulders like lightning and all I want to do is run and hide. On those days, nothing around me looks like love. Nothing is joyful. It is all dangerous; a threat to my very being.

When I made the choice to pursue God and accept Jesus, I thought I was on the road to being fixed. I expected an end to my loneliness, correction of my flaws and protection from new pain. I hadn’t bargained for a depression that would dig its heels in, panic attacks or trauma. I hadn’t known they were even possible for someone that knew God. But they were. In fact, they are. We suffer with God and without God. So, what’s love got to do with it?

There are many verses in the bible that speak to our suffering. Among them, are these: “He heals the brokenhearted and bandages their wounds” (Psalms 147:3). And “the Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed” (Psalms 34:18). My interpretation? When my heart is broken, I am not alone. God is right there in it with me. God helps me and rescues me from my grief.

Even though I would rather be saved from suffering all together, at least I’m not in it alone. I mean, if suffering will be a part of life in one way or another, then I’d rather not face it by myself. And when I think back, I can see it. I can see God in it with me, invisible, yet helping me along.

Out of bed, into the shower, ordering food, making a doctor’s appointment, putting pen to paper, or finding a quiet place to pray. It’s God’s strength making me strong enough to move through this episode of suffering, to survive it, though in my mind and body, I feel weak. God bears it with me, so that I am not crushed under the weight. Isn’t that how love is demonstrated – not in the absence of struggle, but in the help one receives within it? Isn’t that love?

©2022 Creatorskind