We’re flying, screech young, jubilant voices as our plane climbs into clouds. A life-gobbling teenager reaches for the sky as if he’s on a roller coaster. My heart smiles. What an abundant, God-divined weekend it was.
There are a million tiny pieces that led to the decision plunge for attending SheSpeaks Conference, a Christian women’s event for writers and speakers held in North Carolina. Two days of worship, profound speakers, writing workshops, blog classes, and opportunities to share book proposals, it overflowed with creative, passionate, Jesus-loving souls like Crystal and Emily and Ruth. As I close eyes, I see faces of new, and reunited friends like Robin, many who impacted with inspiring stories and humble heartbeats. I met them over coffee, in hallways, in the bathroom. Yes, I make friends in the bathroom. Especially as I lean over the sink to wash hands, and truth be told, on blows the automatic towel dispenser, set off by big hair don’t care curls, and I’m in hysterics with the girl next to me. Love me some humidity.
One shimmer moment stands out. Meeting Chasattee. We were heading to meetings and she fluttered forward. We exchanged answers to the standard conference question: Are you on the writer or speaker track? A writer? Me too? What’s your heartbeat for writing?
I write poetry, she smiles. Her eyes twinkle as she shares about stringing thoughts on paper from a deep place of passion and loss and hope.
What’s the piece you are presenting to the publisher?, I ask. I wanted to be in the room, a fly on the wall, cheering her on, knowing she held a pure, deeply rooted gift.
It’s called It Is Well.
At this moment, friends, it was evident Chasattee was an angel. She proceeded to lean in, our heads close, as she spoke aloud her memorized poem. Rich, buttery words danced from her mouth and wrapped tight, hugging my soul.
Words about losing an earthly father and being embraced by a Heavenly Father. Tiny truth pings of death transformed to peace, each sentence ushered tears dripping. As her confident voice spoke, I wept.
When she finished, I looked at her in awe and spoke, My dad died a year ago and that was the last song we sang at his service. It touches such a deep place within. Ironically, one of the last chapters in my book is called It Is Well. Your words are a God-gift. I was speechless. Like mascara-running, snotty-nosed speechless.
Chasattee smiled, I’ve never shared that poem with anyone except my husband, and I knew I was supposed to share it with you today. You are much loved.
We hugged and took the elevator up, then headed in opposite directions.
These are the moments I know there is a God who cares, who perfectly manifests His presence in the form of words, people, and poems.
That nudge, that tug you feel? It’s His prompting. Don’t ignore or shrug it off. He may be drawing you to bless someone with your words, your hugs, your understanding eyes. He may be reminding you that It Is Well.
I’m reminded of when to speak, and when to listen, in the story of 1 Samuel when God pursued Samuel.
So Eli told Samuel, “Go and lie down, and if he calls you, say, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.’ ” So Samuel went and lay down in his place. The Lord came and stood there, calling as at the other times, “Samuel! Samuel!” then Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant is listening.” And the Lord said to Samuel: “See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make the ears of everyone who hears about it tingle.” – 1 Samuel 3:9-11
Yes, little ones we are flying. Raise those hands, be a light. Like Samuel, “Speak, for your servant is listening.” Share His words and let Him reflect every action and deed as you go out today and shine love.
* This post is dedicated to Paul and Kathy Aigner. You both are a gift, a tremendous gift.