I believed in Heaven from a young age. It was easy for me to imagine a better world just beyond the clouds. I could almost see it. Us 60’s kids lived in our imaginations. When the bell rang for recess, if we weren’t playing kickball, tetherball or hopscotch we were running out in the field, a group of us, pretending to be horses. We were Misty and her mates on the island of Chincoteague, tossing our manes in the wind. And I always dreamed of finding that portal in the back of the wardrobe that would lead me to Narnia.

Growing up in church, I heard Bible stories too. We sang about the Blood of Jesus and how it had Holy Spirit Power to cleanse. At that age I wasn’t sure what I needed cleansing from, but I trusted the lyrics. I met God in church. I felt Him at Christmas Eve in the flickering faces during the candlelight service when we would sing Silent Night. I could almost see and hear that host of Angels overwhelming the shepherds out watching their flocks. I remember kneeling by my bed, arms atop the Chenille Bedspread praying, knowing, feeling He heard me.

And it’s the in between quiet lines of our lives where I found Him then and I find Him still. I remember standing in the forest as a kid hearing God whisper through the treetops far above. And the Stellar’s Jay cutting the prayerful silence in that Holy synagogue. And so many Easter mornings when I would go outside and sit in the quiet, knowing that Jesus had risen for us and the world was awash with promise, the yellow splash of daffodils reminding us that there is Hope in their climbing stubbornly up through the cold unyielding earth.

God made Himself known to me long ago on the way home from an evangelical crusade at our fairgrounds when I was 14. I felt what could only be the Holy Spirit’s prompting in my heart. I don’t even remember the message that night, but I remember it was expedient that I make a choice. The next Sunday at church when the Pastor gave that altar call, asking if anyone wanted to make a public profession of faith, I grabbed my mom for moral support and went down front. Now I had witnesses that I belonged to Jesus. That was the start of the best journey of my life.

Of course, I had no clue what a commitment it would truly be at that age, but it was real, that much I knew. It was the height of the Jesus, movement in 1974. Kids were being baptized in droves on the West Coast of California not very far from where we lived. Everyone was trading in their King James Bibles for the new Living Bible called, “The Way” and “Good News for Modern Man”. It was cool to love Jesus. We went to church on Sunday mornings, some evenings and every now and then Wednesday nights.

Over the years of a lifetime, I’ve run the gamut on denominations. I started Baptist, (a bit restrictive but great Biblical training) then Episcopal (before it went liberal) loved the beauty and the processions. Then I went Assembly of God (very freeing, being able to lift my hands during worship felt like home.) After that for many years it was Evangelical Non-denominational but with a very gifted Pastor. The Holy Spirit was present in the worship. In those days, I couldn’t wait for Sunday to come. It made the rest of the week go so much better.

It was around that time, I started this little Blog. It was a great time, that blogging explosion of the early and late 2000’s. It was a great forum for people like me who loved to write and didn’t know where to put it. It was a great community of folks; like neighbors visiting over the back fence.

Those times, I would go into our little shop with my coffee in the dark. I’d pray against a backdrop of cooing doves and quail calls from the nearby rooftop. It was the edge of the desert in the shadow of the Superstitions Mountains where the Father and I got to know each other. You can’t tame the desert; you yield to what it gives you. I understood why the Spirit led John the Baptist there.

So much has happened since then. I take a step back over the span of years with breathless thanksgiving at how God has been with me, provided for me, filled all the empty spaces, even when I was so unfaithful, He remained faithful. In every season, at every turn, He has met me. Through moving back to my hometown, losing both parents and then a brother, reconnecting with old friends and making new ones He has met me. He continues to meet me.

And God has found us a new community of friends in this current church. It’s become like a home, this little faithful band of about 50 plus believers. It’s like church used to be which is what I need right now. No strobe lights, no big sound system, just a few people brave enough to get up front and make a joyful noise. (And us supporting them from where we sit.) Most everyone in the congregation sings and there is an altar call at the end. I didn’t realize how I missed that.

And if you don’t show up in church, someone will text or call, asking if you are okay. No falling through the cracks here.

Scripture says that if we seek Him with our whole heart He will find us. “But if from there you seek the Lord Your God, you will find Him if you seek Him with your whole heart and with all your soul.” Deuteronomy 4:29 If there ever was a time to seek Him, it’s right now folks. The world is in a real mess, but that mess is why He came that first time to ransom us from ourselves. Not only that, He’s coming back. Until then, we all have a job. To shine our Light so that others can see. He’s here, He’s real, and He’s so much better than anything this world has to offer. That’s a promise I can 100% guarantee.

Blessings and peace, Lori