God of Miracles


“I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well.”

-Psalm 139:14

Every week at church we recite this phrase, “all the time, God is good.” I watch as many people declare this over their lives, not knowing the power behind such declarations. They don’t even have to believe what they are saying is true, the fact is, it will become true to them in time. Our words have power and influence over things seen and unseen, I have seen this become reality, have heard testimonies of miracles because someone refused to back down from the truth. God is Good.

Recently, I’ve felt rather down-heartened. It seems everyone is getting incurable illnesses, dying in freak accidents, undergoing trauma no one should go through. I pray for each occurrence as it reaches my ears and then go about my day not altogether sure my prayers made a difference.  It isn’t that I haven’t seen my prayers answered before, in fact, it’s moments like this that my passion for healing is heightened. I must believe in God’s goodness, without this one belief, there would be nothing. No point behind all this pain and suffering, it would be a waste. I refuse to accept that our struggles are a waste, that we labor in vain. It is this unwavering feeling that assures me that there must be an answer, a purpose, and a hope for restoration.

When we first speak that truth over our lives, “God is good,” something happens…like any Word that we try to place in our heart, satan comes. He comes to attack that Word, that truth before it can become a part of us. He isn’t just the father of lies, but a thief. Every Word is tested, and can only be accepted as truth when it becomes truth in us. I could tell a blind man that the sky is blue, but that would not be a truth to him until he saw that same sky for himself.

I have seen God’s goodness. He saved my life when I could have fallen out of a ride at an amusement park (the seatbelt was broke), He saved me and my mom’s life when a semi hit our car (the steering wheel twisted away just in time), He saved my dad’s life twice (His heart had stopped), and these are just a few times…

The greatest thing God has done in my life is bring me up in a relationship with Him. I’ve never known a life without Him. My dad grew up a Jehovah’s witness and my mom had grown up as a Catholic, but when they had me, they had both became born-again Christians and decided to go to church.  And so my earliest memories are that of worship and Bible lessons, the excitement of going to church and seeing my friends and church family. That same family is with me today, 23 years later. God is Good.

So, God has been Good, but what about the “all the time…” part? Well, if you accept the Bible as truth, it says in Hebrews 13:8, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” Jesus is God in the flesh and our High priest. He never once turned someone away who asked for healing, never cast aside His disciples, and always had compassion for the lost, jew and gentile alike. This truth isn’t a hard one for me, although I have changed in many ways since I was little, never have I changed my heart. I’ve always been compassionate towards others, I’ve always had a heart for people. Do I love perfectly? No way, but at my core, I know what I care about, what I value. And so I have always loved God, and have never let my anger or confusion turn my heart against Him.

I don’t say this to promote myself, I am nothing without God. He first loved me. He first loved you. But we must hear and accept the whole truth, “ALL the time…God IS Good.” And so now, when I find myself in moments that seem hopeless…I recite this. In moments when I feel my prayers aren’t heard…I recite this. On those days when it’s like the rain won’t stop falling…I recite this. When I’m angry and so full of despair that I have no words to say, I will find the strength to recite this. Because it is truth, and it is hope, and it is love. And I would die for all of these, because God is Good and satan will not take this from me, and he has no right to try and take this from you!

I know this post is titled God of Miracles. That title is actually a song I would like to share with you. The song was written by Chris Quilala, a Christian musician and worship leader from the Jesus Culture band. He wrote this song when his newborn baby died. I want you to listen to the lyrics with this in mind. Chris had lost someone so precious to him, someone, who would never grow to know him, memories that would never be shared. He had prayed and nothing had happened. All his life he had heard and believed that God does miracles….that truth didn’t change for Chris, even as he held his baby. The fact is, this belief was tested in Chris, and it came out all the stronger. My God is the God of Miracles! Our enemy is satan, and when we are sure in who Christ is, who God is! then there is NOTHING satan can do!

All the time, God is Good. 


Star Trek: Quotes


If you kill them they may become martyrs. If they become martyrs you won’t be able to silence them.”

-William T. Riker

There are times when the existence of God becomes more clear, more definite. He isn’t only found in the masterpiece of creation but can be plainly seen in the heart of mankind. Though we have fallen into sin and destruction, hope isn’t lost, and the very core of our being remains God breathed life. Maybe even a desire to become more than what we are. Watching the news all the time will blind us all to the good that is still at work. The world is full of beauty and love put into action, to find it we need only look for it. In other words, we see what we want to see, what we look for we find.

You won’t discover a single animal willing to die for a belief. And yet humans have been known to give up their lives as a sacrifice for what they believe is greater than themselves. Soldiers die to protect freedom, a freedom we often take for granted. Many have given their lives to protect others, risking their lives for justice. It all tends to make me think about what I would die for. Would I die for my faith? Could I become a martyr?

I agree with what Commander Riker said, the moment someone finds something worthy enough to die for, it says something to everyone else. Suddenly they find that something valuable too. People may ignore this feeling, but I believe that we still place value on something based on what has been sacrificed for it. The more blood that was spilled, the more we take notice and protect that which has been protected.

We even glorify this concept. Watch any movie where the hero dies for his beliefs and you will almost feel that same passion stir within you. Movies like Braveheart. It’s as if death becomes a victory, a defining moment, and not the end of their legacy but the beginning.

But what about the Christian martyrs? We honor soldiers who died for our freedom, but do we truly honor those who died for our faith? Those who put everything into what they believed and hoped for? I really advise you to read Jesus Freaks by DC Talk, It’s a culmination of stories about those who gave up their lives for Jesus. Their voices won’t be silenced, even if the world tries to ignore them. Death for us shouldn’t be defeat, Jesus died and rose again, defeating death’s sting. Death for us now means eternity, but how we die is important. We can die as we are, displaying our love as Christ’s followers, or we can die in fear and resentment, clinging desperately to this life even if it means denouncing all that we believed in. The difference is significant. Satan stands defeated but we all have been given the chance to defeat him ourselves. To defeat our flesh and sin and choose Christ.

To die for Him is the ultimate sacrifice.

“For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.”-Philippians 1:21



The Hammer

hammer and nails

What is love?
I hardly know
And I have lived
some time ago

As it happens
I saw a man
He staggered past
On bloodied sand

He wore a crown
of twisted thorns
And drug a cross
As people scorned

I didn’t know
That this was love
Poured out freely
From above

I followed Him
Amidst the crowd
Despite His pain
He wasn’t proud

He turned and looked
At every face
A familiar expression
I couldn’t place

And soon He made it
Up the hill
On His feet
He labored still

Until they pushed Him
To the ground
On that cross
He soon was bound

And it was then
I began to weep
Amidst it all
I couldn’t speak

I felt a love
So far and deep
With each pained cry
And hammer sweep

The sound I never
Will forget
As they nailed
His feet and wrists

And lifted He
Upon that cross
For all to see
For all to watch

Until the earth
Did shake and shout
And God himself
Came storming down

And as the chaos
So ensued
The veil was torn
As if in two

And so that’s how
The story went
But I can’t say
That’s all of it

In three days time
As you all know
Love came back
And took His throne

From that day on
I have believed
His love had changed

And in those moments
I fail to see
The swing of the hammer
Comes back to me

Reminding me
Of that day
A man named Jesus
Crossed my way

What is love?
Now I know
My life began
Some time ago


I Have Arrived

table feast 2

The world I had known for years was fading, slipping through my fingers at last. I felt my breathing slow and my heart rate drop with each beat. Drifting deeper into a black abyss, fear began to take hold. I don’t want to die! I thought desperately, clawing and fighting to cling to the life I knew. My family was by my side, but I could no longer hear them or feel their presence. But as if in a dream I heard my young granddaughter whisper, “It’s okay grandpa, I love you.” Suddenly the fear left me, and a warmth filled my being. I felt my soul lift from my body as though a bird being let out of a cage. Exhilaration and joy rose up and I nearly shouted. The warmth started to transform into light and I was greeted by many new and amazing sights, sounds, and smells.

I was standing in a dining room, large and welcoming. It was like I had finally arrived home after a long day of work. I took a step forward and was immediately surprised to find my bones and joints working as if I were 23 again. I heard laughter and barely concealed excitement to my right. One glance and I fell to my knees and wept, as before me seated at a long table was everyone I had ever lost. My mother and father, with tears shining on their cheeks, close friends that had lived life with me and passed on. My wife, who stood straight up from her seat and ran to my side, she looked the same as when I had first met her, beautiful and stunning. She lifted my face and wiped away my tears. “Welcome home, Michael.” She said, a smile lighting her face like the sun.

I stood up and she led me by the hand to the front seat of the long table. “We have been waiting for you son.” My father said. I took my seat and starred down the table, it was full of food that looked so delicious and fresh my mouth began to water. “You have waited here for me?” I asked shakily between tears. In unison, everyone answered, “Yes.” My best friend James, from childhood, stood up and called, “Jesus, he’s here!” A gasp escaped me as through the backroom doors a man ran through, “Michael!!” The man called, he ran to me and picked me up in his arms. I hugged him back and knew in my heart this was my God, my greatest friend in the life I had lived. We both wept in each other’s arms as the room erupted in joyous applause.

In the world above my body had been buried amidst many tears of sorrow and loss. People shared stories about me over another more somber dinner table. How I wish they knew what I was experiencing now. Sitting beside Jesus, sharing my life story with the very ones I had lost and missed dearly. Laughing like a kid and eating a celebration feast just for me. Talking about my children and granddaughter, giving praise to God for the life I had lived.

I wish I could tell you, explain to you in words what I am experiencing now…but another feast is being prepared just for you. Don’t be afraid, death is not the end but the beginning of eternal delight.

I have arrived, finally, I am home.


This image of a large table was revealed to me last year. I was just thinking of what heaven would be like, I asked God to show me a picture and that is when I saw it. A large wooden table topped with amazing food. Around the table were people I have lost, they were all smiling and laughing with joy. I could hear the sound of laughter and nature outside the windows and through the open back door. A beautiful sunlit day could be seen, and the smell of flowers and food greeted me. It was a comforting vision, and I believe in it. Heaven isn’t a place of harps and clouds, but a new home that is perfect, full of love, and God’s glorious presence. Heaven is joy unending.


man covering face

“So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.”

Genesis 1:27

God created all mankind equally, and yet also uniquely. So many people are afraid of differences today, to be different is to have something someone else lacks, to stand out as an individual. This same fear is what promotes the idea of socialism, to be equal in their eyes is to be the same, by force if necessary. The fact is, no one is sure of who they are anymore, they only know what offends or brings out their insecurities. When we forget who we are, we start believing in what we are not, expecting the world to bow to a new order that suits our comfort.

When we are rooted in Christ and His identity, we know who we are and can catch satan in the act when he tries to make us forget our identity. Unfortunately, the world doesn’t know that satan is behind the veil, spreading lies and turning people against each other, and so often our words fall on deaf ears, and only we can see the destruction that is befalling mankind.

I am a child of God, a woman created equal but given specific roles. I am a wife, not the head of my family, but my role is just as important and though my husband is the head, we are one in our decisions and in our walk with God. I am made to fill this role, to be a helper, and also to be loved. We were all made to be loved by God, our Father. These are my titles, the core of my identity. Never will you see among my titles that of modern-day feminist. Though I believe in equality, I do not believe in erasing gender roles, the family dynamic, or the sacredness of marriage. I fail to see how playing the victim and rebelling against the created order of things makes someone a true woman. I say this out of desperate love for my sisters, and out of protection for my brothers.

As women rebel against the created order, men are also swept up into the chaos, and they don’t leave it unscathed. Here is a video by Fox News commentator Tucker Carlson on men in America and the scientific findings/studies that have brought up some rather ominous findings.



Though Tucker doesn’t know what is causing such strange findings, the problem is there. More men are falling, in education, in the workforce, in families, and even in their physical makeup. The results are staggering, and as far as we know, this is only happening here in America. So how many things could really be the cause behind these declines? Granted, in America, we consume a great number of GMO’s and processed foods that could be contributing to the problem. Cancer is on the rise as well as autism and obesity which could easily be tied to what we subject our bodies too on a regular basis. However, this still doesn’t answer all the questions, because what men are falling behind in, women seem to be rising in. I believe the answer lies in the heart.

No study will reveal this, or consider this as an option, but I truly believe that men just aren’t feeling like men anymore, and it is this that is affecting them to such a degree that even their testosterone/sperm levels are lowering. Women have pushed men aside, equality has been marred by the hunger for dominance. There is a growing hatred against mankind, man’s helpers are starting to tear down their identity. Women truly don’t realize the power they wield. We can build a man up, or tear him down by our words and actions, and satan knows this.

The modern-day feminist movement does not compare to the old feminist movement. At its origin, it was well-intentioned. They sought equality, the right to vote and be heard. Today, it isn’t enough to be equal, women are seeking to take the roles of man as their own. They are trying to erase any boundaries or difference in men/women and replace them with neutrality. The truth is women have forgotten who they are, and in turn are seeking to erase who men are.

Adam’s sin wasn’t talked about back then. The only sin people were aware of was Eve’s, and so women were solely blamed for the fall of mankind. But Adam was there with her in the garden when Eve was tempted. “When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it.” (Genesis 3:6) Adam was there, but he failed to be a husband and protect his wife. He was complacent and let her fall prey to satan’s lies.

This complacency, or failure to take action, may be at work today. Think about it, if men rose up and took action, if they became the spiritual head of their homes again, and sought to remind women of not only their roles but most importantly their identity and value, this feminist movement would end. We are all guilty, we have all forgotten our place and need to fix this problem together.

To do this we need to revisit the Word of God and discover again who we are created to be. We have erased our identities, but the pencil markings are still there to be re-traced again. It isn’t too late to restore and redeem what has been lost.

“The woman was made of a rib out of the side of Adam; not made out of his head to rule over him, nor out of his feet to be trampled upon by him, but out of his side to be equal with him, under his arm to be protected, and near his heart to be beloved.”

Matthew Henry



“Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much.”

Helen Keller

Thank you, everyone, for your support! I am truly amazed at all God is doing through this blog, I love writing and spreading God’s message. but there are also times when I need to hear those messages, to write them down in plain sight and remember them. I want this blog to continue to be God led, after all He has done in my life and continues to do, this blog is the least I can give in return. Among writing, I dream to grow in ministry, to find my specific call, whether that is worship, missionary work, teaching, or something else. This blog may just be the start of something more, and I couldn’t have made it this far without you.

Thank you for your feedback, I really value and appreciate your comments. And lastly, I just want to tell you guys that you’re all great writers! God has amazing things in store for each of you, never stop writing! God bless! 🙂


old man by the sea

I grew up in a quiet town, off the coast aways. As time went on I came to know each and every face. Mr. Bete, the florist, who loved to sweep and gape, at every new visitor that came from out of state. And on a hill not far from home, lived a rich man and his wife, they kept their noses turned straight up at neighbors passing by. My school which had seen better days still seemed to come alive, and as the final bell did ring out ran the hungry tide. Those days all seem so long ago, each face has left or died. But this town still sits on timeless sand, forever intertwined.

Now I am far much older, closer to the end. Though the school bell still keeps ringing just as the clock ticks on my stand. Mr. Bete Jr. now is the florist hand, gaping like his father, at every passing man. The rich man and his wife, both died as did their wealth. The home is now in shambles, with not a penny on a shelf. Their faces still swim past my eyes, like ghosts that will not sleep. To truly live on in memories is really quite a feat. Maybe this is legacy, or I am too old to think. But it seems that though time passes by, in forever’s wake we’ll keep. As long as there are those alive, we live in memories.

Forever doesn’t hold a grudge, it remembers everything. The ugly and the beautiful, the happiness and grief. The shells by the ocean’s edge, the whisper in the trees. The laughter of an unknowing boy, at the age of 3. That is my story, as I have lived it, there is no mystery. My name is Walter Billingsley, and I’m now 83. I feel like I have lived forever, or have I lived at all? As I watch the tide recede, with my trusted dog, I cannot help but think, why are we here at all? There must be rhyme or reason, a rise after the fall, a purpose for every season, or forever makes no sense at all.



Victory: A Story

Warrior Woman Silhouette

The final battle. Nothing could describe it. A woman stood on a hill surveying the scene before her. Would she have been in her earthly body, her eyes would have been blinded by the radiating light, and her ears would have bled from the thunderous sound. As angels and man alike clashed against those destined for hell. Even she put off light, but it paled in comparison to the angels, who were fighting alongside man. Their swords were made of diamond, each strike sending fractured light in all directions. The demons carried swords of fire, and the light their bodies put forth had a blood red hue. For what purity and righteousness they were once made to carry as angels of God were forever tarnished by their deep hatred and sin.

The woman sought one man with her gaze and quickly found him, even among the chaos. Her earthly husband, fighting with the strength and determination of all mankind. We have come a long way from the garden, she thought to herself. This day would not be the turning of a chapter, but the closing of a book that would precede the opening of a new book, a book filled with endless pages and ink.

She suddenly felt a tug on her heart, a stirring of passion, the time had arrived. Behind her, the hill twisted and rose into a mountain. With one last gaze at the battle, she turned and went, mirroring the same strength and determination she saw in her husband. She, who had once worn fig leaves, was now adorned in golden armor, her brown hair was loose and blowing as she climbed higher. She had piercing green eyes and though now her face was flawless, she remembered long ago, her husband tracing the freckles on her nose and cheeks… how he had loved her imperfections.

With one last hoist, she pulled herself onto the peak of the mountain. A dark smoke hung in the air as she straightened and waited. A strong gust of wind blew the smoke apart and she could see the silhouette of an angel watching the war below. There was a moment of silence, like a calm before a storm. “How does it feel to sleep no more, Eve?” The angel asked, still not turning. His voice had a mesmerizing musical sound to it, but Eve could sense the barely concealed hatred beneath his tone. She drew the sword that was sheathed at her side, made of the same pure gold that adorned her. The action was met with a chuckle that made her skin crawl. “…he will crush your head and you will strike his heel, is that what this is?” The angel turned toward her and she almost gasped at the beauty she saw. In the garden, she remembered this beauty, how he had enticed her with it. His words had dripped with honey then, as she had no idea what he was. But now she held herself straight, and didn’t waver her gaze, beneath that beauty was an ugliness so vile that if he were to appear as he truly was, he would be a dragon, a monster, a serpent to be crushed underfoot.

She took a few steps closer, “I am here to defeat you.” The angel laughed again, this time his voice filled the space around her, and she was tempted to cover her ears. “Your Messiah has already seen to that.” He took a few steps closer to her, his body, though human in appearance, seemed to slither. “You stand defeated satan, now it’s my turn…I will humiliate you, father of lies and son of pride.” As she spoke she felt herself fill with righteous anger, the grip on her sword tightened and she gave him her fiercest gaze.

Instead of attacking, satan started walking around her, taking slow calculated steps and keeping her gaze. Eve was reminded of a hungry lion, sizing up his prey. “You ate the forbidden fruit woman, why would God trust you with this task?” Eve stood her ground. satan continued,”What if he sent you here to be humiliated?” his footfalls stopped in front of her, inches from her face he then whispered, “…are you really forgiven, Eve?” There was a pause that seemed to stretch for years, Eve remembered grabbing the fruit, how it looked so pleasing to the eye. Its flavor was still on her tongue to this day, as well as the taste of tears when she saw her son Abel killed by his brother Cain. She watched and felt the sting of her sin till the day she died, and even while she slept she knew in her soul that the world above was continuing to water the ground in blood and suffering and sin. It’s all my fault! She thought in despair, desperately fighting the weight of shame so great that she feared it would crush her.

But then she remembered, the Lord walking in the garden with her. “You are my beloved Eve,” He had told her, His footfalls matching her own as they enjoyed each others company and the beauty around them. “Someday you will know how much I love you.” She smiled, “…more than Adam does?” The Lord stopped and turned her toward Him, His eyes full of wonder and tenderness. “Eve, I love you more than you can ever imagine. I love you and Adam both uniquely and completely.” He turned His gaze to the garden around them, “This paradise is just the beginning of all I have for you.”

As fast as the shame had come, the light of God’s love for her cast it out. She felt satan recoil from her as though stung. Her eyes came back into focus as well as her strength. “You can’t sway me with lies! I will not be tricked again!” She raised her sword in fury and felt the wind blow around her. The clouds parted above and light shone on the mountaintop, causing every shadow to flee. Real fear flashed through satan’s dark eyes, he turned his gaze to the heavens and screamed, Eve took her chance. She raised her sword high and with all the strength she could muster she brought it down on him. In rage, satan screamed again, covering his face with his hands. When they parted, Eve could make out a grisly wound that she knew would be forever etched into his “perfection.” No more would he be able to see himself pridefully. No longer would he be able to boast, now he was truly nothing.

The heavens continued to open filling the mountaintop with the sound of rushing water and worship. satan seemed to shrink in fear, the mountain began to crack straight down the middle, Eve was lifted just as it crumbled beneath her by Michael, the Archangel. Satan, barely gripping onto the last stone began to beg and plea, but arms of fire shot out of the crack, wrapping themselves around him like burning chains until he was ripped from the ledge and drug deep into the ground. The gap suddenly closed, resealing itself as if nothing had ever happened. Eve watched as on the battlefield below, the same thing repeated, wisps of flame shot out of every crack and crevice, wrapping and dragging each demon down into the earth until all that remained was God’s army. Michael landed atop the restored mountain and smiled at Eve. “This is victory.” He said and all the angels from the heavens to the battlefield suddenly gave a loud shout, the ground shook and the clouds of dust and smoke departed leaving a brilliantly blue sky.

And so this is how the story ends, or more appropriately, how one book closes and another opens. What will this new story contain? Not even Eve knows, as there has never been a story that began with victory, until now.

woman warrior 3


When It Rains…


“The natives showed us extraordinary kindness; for because of the rain that had set in and because of the cold, they kindled a fire and received us all.”

-Acts 28:2

I took this picture while I was sick at a retreat. The sound of worship could be heard in the building a few yards away but I was separated from it all, in misery. To add to this moment of pain I heard the water droplets start falling on the car I was in. They clung to it, only sliding down the glass once they had combined with other droplets. I watched this for a while and thought the phrase, “when it rains it pours…” My plans to enjoy the retreat fueled by the rain made me feel dispirited. The cloudy sky and constant rain can tend to make things seem worse. I’ve experienced “bad” sunny days and it never seems as fitting as when the sun is shrouded and the thunder moves the earth under your feet. It’s like the world is crying with you on days like that. Not that I was that upset at the retreat, but when moments like this happen and prayer seems to go unheard, it can make me wonder what is wrong with me that I would let satan win so easily.

Who is he to tell me what day I will have, or how I will feel? I know, sometimes we get sick, but I tend to believe that some illnesses are not by coincidence. I believe he wanted to keep me from receiving something inside the church walls only yards away and I let him keep me from it!

And then there is the rain, why is it symbolic of depression? In biblical times, rain meant life. Without it, crops wouldn’t grow and people wouldn’t have water to drink. Often, punishment for a land in rebellion against God was for the life-giving rain to stop. This reminded the people that it was God who gave life and could easily take it. It may seem harsh, but imagine it, people cursing God with the same mouth they ate and drank His sustenance from. Rain stood for life, renewal, and God’s care. Today, in the western world, away from the deserts of our ancestors, we can forget the importance of rain. Farmers remember it well, but the common man or woman in their daily rush see rain as an inconvenience and a sign that their day might be cloudy in more ways than one.

I should’ve seen the rain droplets on the window in a different way…I should’ve realized that God was just as present in that car than in that church building. What an opportunity I missed! …I must say, this post is just as much for me as it is for you. I’ve learned that God can make a lesson out of anything, and the more lessons we take notice of and remember, the less we have to repeat in the future. He showed me that every day spent with Him can be a day of learning and growing. I used to believe that I could only learn and grow at some seminar or bible study, this isn’t true! Though much can be learned through fellowship with other Christians, God never intended for that to be the only way to growth and learning.

There comes a time we must do what we have learned. And often that involves us stepping out and making decisions on our own, physically. However, the Holy Spirit is our constant companion spiritually, He helps us and guides us even while we are facing giants alone. That same mighty Holy Spirit is in you, and He was in me, even while I was curled up in misery. Our problem is we put to much stock in the world we see when we need to focus more on the one we don’t see. Maybe then we will realize what’s truly going on when we see someone who is broken. Drugs aren’t the problem, guns aren’t the problem, money isn’t the problem…the list goes on. If we truly looked at the world’s problems through the eyes of the Holy Spirit we would see demons and angels battling over souls. Whispers of lies and hatred trying to override the voices of truth and love.

The rain is just rain. I remember the first time I jumped in a puddle after a rainstorm, I was only a kid and yet, like all children, I had seen the rainstorm as only another opportunity to play. I could’ve stayed in and chose to be sad and bored, but that’s just it. We choose what we will do with each new day and its unpredictable circumstances. Being happy is a choice, not an outcome of everything going right all the time. We decide what we will think and do, and that is what makes our day either good or bad.

Next time it rains in your life, try and see it as an opportunity. A challenge even, to be twice as happy. Become the sunshine to your co-workers and friends. Choose to see things in a new way, and you will find joy. Ask God for help, from where He sits, there is no rain or sunshine, only His magnificent glory. And Jesus, who has been a man and has suffered the worst of days, He understands you but He also sees what is possible for you. We simply weren’t made to shrink in the shadows of our enemies, we were made to rise up and crush them. Take authority over your day, and thank God…whether it rains or shines because each day is a gift…and a lesson to remember.

Thank you, God, for rain.





In life there are seasons

Moments that change

Clouds that uncover

The suns shining gaze

Flowers that bloom

After days of rain

Life after death

A lesson to save

Though trials may come

The Lord made a way

Just like the spring

He restores everything

There’s nothing to fear

And much to hold dear

As the winter departs

We make a new start

Cultivating this beauty

co-laboring in love

Listening to God

Through the call of a dove

Spring is His promise

That whatever may come


And I am Loved