United States of America
I lived in Savannah, GA, 40 years ago, and loved it. My daughter was born there at 24 weeks old, and we lost her twin brother. She is a miracle and shouldn’t have survived (she was 1 lbs. 7 oz. at birth). She is a miracle in and of herself.
We’ve always wanted to come back, but my husband and I have both been self-employed, and it’s never easy to restart a business in a new place. Even though I’m from the north east, it’s frankly never felt like home. Over the last few years, with the changing political climate and a loss of moral compass, it felt less and less like home. Well, on a trip to the Outer Banks in May 2020, I suddenly realized that we probably had the chance if I acted fast to make a move back to Savannah. As a result of Covid a lot of my work had become remote. It was now legal for me to treat my patients on Zoom from anywhere. We put our house on the market that summer and, after a few twists and turns, sold it for quite a bit more than we paid. We knew that if we waited at all to take action, market conditions might change for the worst and they did. This was God speaking to us I know.
We came to Savannah to buy here and homes were selling right out from under us. We weren’t really considering Rincon at all as we wanted it to be somewhere in Savannah proper but anytime we made an offer on something it sold out from under us.
My husband and I were having dinner at a downtown restaurant. A text came in from our broker with a photo of a house in Rincon. We looked at it and immediately knew it was home even before seeing it. Our offer was immediately accepted. The move itself presented many challenges. But we are exactly where God wanted us to be. We love the neighborhood and the wonderful folks. We met and our next-door neighbors introduced us to Compassion. We love it and feel so blessed most importantly, my husband due to his unfortunate exposure to church as a child hadn’t been to church in about 50 years. Now he’s is the first one out the door for church and we both love it. We know it’s all God’s hand.
United States of America
Almost 3 weeks ago I had returned from my future sister-in-law‘s bachelorette party. It was Labor Day 2023 to be specific. Exhausted from the travels and fun of a long weekend. I crawled into my cozy bed nestled back in my farm apartment in Harwood, MD (sidenote: I rented a families basement apartment on their farm! It’s dreamy with horses and magical views of the evening stars!)
My friend sent me a voice message, and I listened to it before closing my eyes. It was a voice message of her praying over me. She was praying over my future husband and I uniting, and before she finished the prayer, she asked God to surprise me. I’m still waiting on my husband, but the Lord had a more sudden surprise up his sleeve. The next morning, I started work and received a voice message (a common theme in my life) from a life mentor of mine. She told me she felt led to offer me the last scholarship spot at her writers conference in St. Louis ($600 value). The conference itself was covered; however flight and room/board were not. Considering the conference was about 2 1/2 weeks out, all seemed very unrealistic. After all, I’ve been deliberately working the past few months to stick to a strict budget and get out of debt.
I was thrilled and honored to receive the offer, but I also knew money didn’t fall out of the sky. So I did all I could do and left the rest up to the man upstairs. This consisted of prayer, fasting, and asking others to pray. About a week later, I told my mentor it wasn’t going to work. Two hours after I told her no, God told me no to my no. One of my friends, whom I had asked to pray with me, reached out and said she was willing and able to give me $600. I almost fell over. She was funding over 80% of my projected expenses for the trip. I knew that was my cue to go. I moved some things around in my budget to cover the rest of the trip, and here I sit writing the story at the writers conference in St. Louis.
Isaiah 6:8 “Here I am Lord send me”
Kristen Wiblishouser
United States of America
I had to overcome a lot in my life. Trauma after trauma, yet the Lord rebuilt me every time. Each time I faced a new trauma, I told myself that it would be the hardest thing I would ever have to go through. I walked through things like infidelity, teen pregnancy, rape, and emotional and mental abuse. These were seriously hard situations to experience, but God always saw me through them.
July 28, 2022 was supposed to be another ordinary day but it turned out to be anything but that. 30 minutes after talking to my husband, he died in the blink of an eye. He was gone! How would I get through? I was lost. The kids no longer had a father, I no longer had a spouse, and our home no longer had him.
My God knew this would happen, and He had a plan. He reminded me of so many promises through the two women he sent. Through them, I had remained encouraged and supported. Getting squared away with finances and how to navigate the different systems became manageable.
He provided me with the strength to keep going day after day. He gave me reasons to keep smiling in the ability to laugh loudly. Because of Him I have been able to keep going.
United States of America
I met Jesus on a Red Dirt road. This is the title of a story. I didn’t think I’d be writing, let alone living.
It was the year 2018, May to be specific, like all things relating to the Lord, I had no idea what I was in for.
To say I met Jesus may seem bizarre right?? After all, He isn’t even alive anymore. But rest assured, I stand by my statement. I was a kid in church always wondering how all these people were seemingly so into something that I didn’t have any concept for.
To be quite honest, Church seemed to be nothing but a waste of my time.
As I said, it was 2018. It was January and I was residing in Lincoln Nebraska finishing my senior year of college.
I was a mess. My best friend had just gotten pregnant which meant my next nine months were also about to look a lot different. Say goodbye to every trip we had planned, not to mention my major was psychology and pre-physician assistant. Yet I had no dream or desire to actually do hospital work.
So how does any of this relate to Jesus? Spoiler alert, everything is related to Jesus, and I do mean everything, even when we think it isn’t.
I was devastated and had no idea what direction my life was about to take. And then I read a book. It was a book I’d been meaning to read for a decade, yet never got around to it: “Kisses from Katie” by Kate Davis. She was a teenager graduating high school who decided to go to Uganda for a mission trip after graduating high school. Long story short, Katie fell absolutely in love with the country of Uganda and the continent of Africa, and she still resides there to this day.
I may not have known much else if anything at that point in my life, but I knew this much: I was going to Africa over hell or high water. In fact, I made it my personal mission to get over there as soon as I graduated from college.
And I did well, correction, God did. I just said yes.
The night the application closed, I scrolled upon an Instagram post from a nonprofit in Nashville, accepting applicants for a mission trip to Masindi, Uganda. I applied three weeks later, and I was accepted. I couldn’t believe it.
As time drew near , we started doing group calls in preparation for our trip.
Little did I know the very organization that I was going to Uganda with (love + ONE International) was the same organization that helped Katie Davis get her nonprofit up and running.
My mind was blown. How could this be?
Only Jesus. He specializes in stuff like this.
It gets better.
When I actually got to Uganda, it was like heaven on earth.
Like I said, it was where I met the love of my life Jesus!
It was a normal day. Every day starts just the same. This one was no different. I went with my group to a village that day. It was amazing, but a story for another time.
The day in the village wrapped up, and we returned to the main school. It really was a normal afternoon to the common eye, but rest assured, there’s no such thing as common when God’s involved.
The rest of the afternoon I was attacked by kisses, hugs and affection and love. The school kids and I chased each other up and down the red dirt road until those mean adults made us part ways.
I left in a big white van with beautiful ebony-skinned faces and hands chasing me down.
I’d finally felt IT. What do you ask? Love – not the worldly kind or even the kind we receive from our parents or loved ones. It’s a different type of love. It’s heavenly, it’s Holy.
If you haven’t felt this all consuming gut wrenching totally consuming love it’s OK.
I hadn’t either. All you have to do is ask. That’s it. As simple as “God, if you’re real, let me know.”
That was my prayer all those years ago. He isn’t too good to be true. He’s not magical or a genie in a bottle. He’s real, and He’s yearning and waiting for the very day you asked to get to know him.
Believe me it’s an adventure you don’t want to miss.
So be it XOXO
Kristen Ann
United States of America
Jesus loves me, this I know For the Bible tells me so
I vividly recall the circle of little wooden chairs in a small vestibule behind the sanctuary at Montgomery Presbyterian Church. I was between three and four years old. In the tiny vestibule we sang “Jesus Loves Me’ knew that my mother loved me. I knew that my Aunt Geraldine loved me as well. When I was six years old, a piano was moved into the sitting room of our house. On Thursdays my mother would drive my father to work then come back home in order to drive me to piano lessons12 miles away. I have no doubt that my Aunt Geraldine paid for the piano and probably the lessons. My aunt also bought me new winter coats and a watch with tiny diamonds. All because they loved me!
My mother was a sweet child of God. The Wilder family legacy was one of faith and gentle spirit. The Mob family from whence came my father carried forward a legacy of anger, alcoholism, and unrelenting bitterness. This legacy was manifested in a generational cycle of physical and emotional abuse among the five Mobley s (My father was the oldest) and alcoholism caged in co-dependence on the part of the one Mobley daughter. The two youngest boys clung to their mother and were emotionally and mentally disturbed throughout their lives.
I learned later that children raised in an abusive household will respond in different ways. Most common is normalization of the abuse. Thus continues a multigenerational cycle of abuse or co-dependence. Less common is a fierce will to not repeat nor tolerate the behavior. I experienced this in dating years, when any show of anger would drive me away. I escaped the noisy environment at home by retreating into books. My favorites were “Heidi” and “Anne of Green Gables”. Was it coincidence that they chronicled life as an orphan? Along the way I became an excellent student, the pride of my parents and family. I was the only child of seven to graduate from high school, the only Mobley to graduate college.
At the age of 15, God placed a young man in my life. He sat in the back of tenth grade French class. I hadn’t noticed him, but he tells me now that my legs drew his attention from the back of the class. I always sat in front. Well, God would use more than a French class to accomplish his purpose. A month or so later, I was walking along the deserted beach on Daufuskie Island, South Carolina. My father loved Daufuskie, a remote barrier island where he could escape the noise and stresses of an industrial power terminal where he worked swing- shift. On Daufuskie he could also drink, dance and party with his island friends. Not a recipe for long life. He succumbed to a major heart attack at age fifty-six, but not before I came to understand him and through forgiveness, love him.
Back to the young man. As I was walking the beach, this fellow was standing at the water’s edge balancing a slalom ski. Chuck and his family frequented the Daufuskie beach for picnics, swimming and water-skiing. What a coincidence! He recognized me from French class and I nodded and smiled. Thus began a 58-year romance with our 53nd wedding anniversary approaching soon.
God’s blessings have been beyond measure. Beginning with the immeasurable love and devotion of my husband. A story punctuated by the birth (not an easy one) of our precious son. These blessings have culminated with an amazing daughter-in-law and three incredible grandsons.
The story doesn’t end here. Through a series of “coincidences” I have met and worked together with a cousin from Louisiana (remember the Mobley daughter) to develop a genealogy and gather family history. Genealogical research reveals the tragic experiences that have formed the Mobley Legacy. The reuniting of the Mobleys was begun in 2003 with the first annual Mobley Cousins Reunion. Those whom God has rescued through faith in Jesus Christ have led other cousins to leave the hurt and unforgiveness behind them, to be washed away like footprints from the Daufuskie sands.
Jesus loves you!
United States of America
I am from the sunny South. It is a picturesque place with moss draped oak trees. It is a coastal community that is hopping with fun beaches and lots of history. Our beautiful springs, lovely late falls and mild winters make it the perfect tourist spot. There is really only one negative thing. Our summers are HOT & Humid. Our Spas don’t need Saunas. Despite your best efforts to straighten your natural curly hair, 43 seconds after stepping outside it’ll curl and stick flat to your head. I don’t mean to make anybody blush but my Grandmother put it best. One day we were running errands and got into the hot car…the AC hadn’t caught up yet …and she said to me. “Good Grief! It is hotter than a June Bride in a feather bed in here! Imagine my shock …well grandmother! But frankly that was the best description ever!
I had some friends visiting on one of those balmy days and they wanted a tour of our historic district.
So off I went to play tour guide. I took them to the high spots which included some of our cemeteries …not the lively part of the tour but interesting none-the-less. Button Gwinnett, one of the Signers of the Declaration of Independence, is buried in our colonial cemetery. The composer of the Christmas classic Jingle Bells is also interred in our town. He served as a music director at a church in one of our churches in the 1800s. I was amused as I looked at his tombstone on that hot, blistery Savannah day.
Dashing through the snow? How did he come up with that? Dashing through the pollen maybe?
Through the steam? Through the Humidity? But the Snow? The only dashing I’d seen were folks in the dashing from place to place, from commitment to commitment, from appointment to appointment. observed that dashing takes its toll. Dashing is designed for a short sprint. Dashing is not for an endurance race. And I found myself in the middle of life in the fast lane, wanting to add another verse to that song… Dashing through the day I’ve got those bills to pay! One morning I woke up, looked in the mirror and I saw a frantic, tired, overwhelmed church girl. Oh, I had all the boxes on my to-do list checked off, my packed schedule and polished presentation might have fooled some people but I knew that inside my soul was starving. Out of desperation I turned to the scriptures that I had learned as a kid in Sunday school. God was gracious again that morning and reminded me of the words written in red in Matthew 11:28. Come unto me all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest.
That was it! I needed rest for my soul that was falling apart and being squeezed by a grueling schedule.
That day my time management plan changed dramatically. I had trusted Christ for grace to cover my soul as a child and that day I trusted him with the grace to cover my schedule.
A few months later I signed up for a course at the local synagogue. They were offering a class on Jewish traditions and customs and I thought that would be interesting. Little did I know that it would be a reminder to me on the time management issue. The rabbi opened the second session with the Institution of the Jewish calendar. We are in Year 5775. 126 The Rabbi explained that the Hebrew calendar was first established when the people of God were freed from Egyptian bondage. This first tool of time keeping signified their freedom from slavery. You see, Slaves have no mastery of their own time. Time really began for God’s chosen when they were redeemed from that Egyptian Bondage. For centuries they had been bound by a task master. Likewise, the Cross of Christ cancels the curse of sin and redeems us from its bondage. The chains of time and this fleeting life no longer bind us. The Cross of Christ offers us eternal life and sets us on course to the promise land.
My sweet friends, the promise land is a place where time will be no more! Only God can redeem our lives and OUR TIME!
~Thankful~
Kathy Walters Burnsed, Excerpt from Beating The Clock, Managing Time God’s Way Chapter 13- The Cross Cancels the Curse of the Clock
