Archive for the tag “purpose”

walking in the fight

“Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work, so that you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way.”  [James 1:2-4]

Awake my soul. You are living. You were created, one spinning thread of molecules at a time, by the Great Creator. Awake. You were chosen to live. Your purpose is to bring life. The act of each day is your fight. It is your test. It is the step by step that will harden your muscles and make you ready for the next fight.

Practice living:

Wake. Say good morning over brewing coffee and pull out Bible and pages. Release the unseeing truth. Ingest His always-good, wise, perspective. It is the real truth. It will heal. It will give strength.

Draft the day’s bits and pieces. There is a war to be fought. It will be done one hour at a time.

Shower. My body is yours. I honor you as I honor me. Sit at the desk with a fresh face and a lighted candle. It is my reminder. It is a prayer. Work with built in hard stops for air, for walks, for stretches or strengthening, for prayer. It is the five minutes that will fuel the many hours.


My fight is to live. To do what I was born to do. What I dream of. To use my hands, my head, my heart without letting fear grip me, paralyze me.

What’s your fight? Has God given you the steps to work through the fight?

[This picture will lead you to Ann Voskamp’s Grace Plan. God chose to speak to me about living my life through this. I share it with you. It’s not a must, merely a thought or potentially an inspiration. ]



crystalHope everyone had a Merry Christmas! My mind has been all over the place this week, so I finally decided today to share a little free-write from my notebook earlier this year. I remember writing this piece. I was sitting in the parking lot of Target as my son had fallen asleep in the car seat. In that moment, my spirit opened up, telling me to pay attention. So, I wrote a few things down:

A deep longing

Something is fighting to escape

A knot builds in my gut

Nudging me to act

Creating a butterfly

That will

No doubt

Be free.

My faith is a foundation but my spirit is the fuel

That will guide me to my life’s purpose.

Everywhere I turn

There are detrimental distractions

Pawing to snatch away

What He has already given.

But it is up to me

Whether I accept with all my heart

Or give in to the numbness.

Even when normalcy is choking me

I will fight until

Life breaks through again and again.

Doesn’t matter how much struggle

Will ensue now that You

Have made me aware of this battle.

Visions of the delicate countryside fill my eyes

Sitting on an old-fashioned porch,

Gazing at open fields

Covered with flowers

Horse galloping

Guiding me to open spaces

Of freedom.


I’ve been gingerly reading through Waking the Dead by John Eldridge.  I read the book in small doses because John’s words turn to fire the minute I ingest them and I see things I’ve long forgotten.  Like childhood.

If I had been self-aware I would have known by age ten that I was an artist.  I had no clue.  During high school I wished into the deep well of my locker that I could be as wild, self-assured and beautiful as the crew that strolled out of art class every day.  And then I’d give myself a shake.  I didn’t believe I had the talent.  I didn’t believe I was worthy.

Yesterday, as I read John’s words, God suddenly broke through my thick excuses.  He created me with a purpose.  For someone like me who generally tends to feel useless, this is a profound idea.   No matter what I think about myself, no matter how far I run from my purpose, God won’t change ‘the plan.’  No I’m not saying that we don’t have free will or we can’t alter our lives with our choices.

What I’m saying is that though I want nothing more than to pursue what God has for me, I tend to run hard in the opposite direction.  I’m afraid I’ll fail; I’m afraid I’ll succeed.  It’s a ridiculous catch 22 that’s kept me in knots for years.  I’ve tried telling God he tapped the wrong girl on the shoulder.  I laid it all out, all the reasons why I’m useless and therefore unlovable.  But today I realized for the last ten years he’s never moved.

He’s still standing there saying, “Heather I created you, I love you, you were born to write.  No matter how far you go that will never change.”

His endless solidity and his kindness have obliterated my excuses.  And I’m profoundly thankful.  Even in the midst of my terrible mistakes I can’t shake God or what he has planned.  And suddenly all the pressure is off and sitting down to write doesn’t feel so terrifying.

Do you believe you have a God-given purpose?  How does it keep you grounded?  How does it set you free?


I always wonder, does an artist offer to the world the same caliber and effectiveness of help as say a humanitarian aid worker in a refugee camp.  Does what we do matter?  Does it matter enough to devote our lives to the work?

“Each one of you should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God’s grace in various forms.” I Peter 4:10

I read this yesterday and I knew its what I would be writing about for this blog.  My mind pauses over every word, hanging on to the words because they are so clear and they make me feel…well like I have purpose.  Use…whatever gift (I) have received…to serve others…faithfully…administering God’s grace…in various forms.

If there was any doubt…whether I should dedicate my gifts to serving the world… whether being an arm versus an ear on the body makes me more or less important or necessary…

I now know.  I was given my talents for a reason.  To use them faithfully.  To touch lives by being faithful and honest to the call on my life.

I’ve repeated a lot of words here, only because I think they are that important.  God please help me.

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: