Philippians 3:14 I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.
3:14
Most people would look at that number and associate it with the mathematical term Pi. For me for many years though it was the numbers of my digital clock, glaring at me in the darkness.
After my second bout of depression, this was the time I woke up at in the early hours of the morning. At first I thought I was imagining it but as the days and weeks went on, the realisation set in-I was waking up at this time every morning.
It was like a jolt. Suddenly I would be wide awake and my eyes were automatically drawn to the clock, hoping and praying I would see a different number, but no, there it was…3:14.
Why am I bringing this up now you may ask. It’s simple really. It’s back! It’s almost like an old friend who you haven’t seen in awhile turning up on your doorstep. It doesn’t scare me or make me feel that I’m staring into the dark place that is depression again. It’s more like a warning. Like when the petrol light flashes on your dashboard- you haven’t run out of petrol yet but you will if you don’t do anything about it.
At the moment we are living in very strange times. There is fear and uncertainty and there seems no end to the virus I spoke of in my last post. Many people are in despair, losing jobs, loved ones, missing friends, homeschooling….I could write an endless list.
3:14….I know that just like that petrol light, if I don’t do anything, that number will become an all too familiar sight. It is no coincidence that the Bible verse I’ve included has 3:14 in the reference. As someone close to me reminded me tonight, there is always someone in a worse situation than yourself. Reading this verse it brought to mind my purpose as a believer and follower of Christ. I have to keep going every day with His help and press on towards the goal set before me. My life is not my own but His. It was paid for on Calvary. As my pastor says, we are saved to serve. So my purpose is to press on and serve and glorify Him and I encourage you to do the same.
“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”
In the early hours of Saturday 9th May, I looked in the bathroom mirror and did not recognise myself. After a few days of thinking a chest infection was working on me, I feared it was more serious…Covid 19. I looked grey and my lips were blue. When I told the nurse on the other end of the phone that I felt I was going to pass out, she told me to put the phone down immediately and dial 999.
It’s only the 2nd time I’ve been in an ambulance…but this time I was the patient. Thankfully I live 10 minutes away from a hospital but the journey felt like forever. All sorts of things were going through my head…what if it’s Covid?…will I see my boys again?…what about my family?…what about all the places I’d never been or things I’d not yet done with my boyfriend?…would I come out of hospital alive or in a box?
Deep down I knew that God was with me and I knew He would give me peace that passeth all understanding. I was taken into a room and my obs were taken as well as an X-ray and of course I was tested for the virus. Soon I was told I had pneumonia and so I was hooked up to a drip and required oxygen before being moved to a room on the Covid ward.
This was a hospital I was familiar with. I’d visited friends and relatives and even taken the Squid there for broken arms and fingers, but now, it looked alien to me. All the members of staff were ladened down with PPE and the usually busy corridors were deserted as I was moved upstairs.
After a peaceful night a doctor saw me in the afternoon and confirmed I’d pneumonia which required antibiotics but I would still have to wait 24 hours to find out if I’d tested positive.
…And it was… On the Lord’s Day I received the news I was dreading. I was moved down to a bigger ward where my treatment would continue for a further 2 days.
Most of the time I slept, waking only for nurses to take my obs and to attempt to eat. My phone was my lifeline. My boyfriend had driven my mum to the hospital to drop off things I needed. My mum phoned me to check which ward I was in. This distressed me. Knowing they were both so close and under normal circumstances could have visited but this pandemic has done away with normal.
Texts, Whattsapp and Messenger were how I communicated with others. As a Christian, prayer is a major part of my life. I talk to my Heavenly Father numerous times throughout the day and I knew I had an army of prayer warriors available to me as a member of God’s family. Many, many prayed for me and still are. Loved ones, family, friends, colleagues, my church family, other churches and even other believers from around the globe. As I look back over the abundance of communications I received, I am overwhelmed by the live and kindness shown towards me and I am humbled.
Many sent Scriptures like the one I started with and these were so comforting at such a time as this. Others phoned and prayed with me, but there were many late night chats that really encouraged me.
On Tuesday 12th May I was to be sent home as I no longer required hospital care. I looked at the nurse bewildered and asked her how I would get home? She replied that whoever picked me up would have to self isolate for 2 weeks like myself. I almost cried as I told her that I lived alone, my father was ill, I had no siblings and I couldn’t put anyone else at risk. So I prayed again and a little while later was wheeled out of the ward to claps from the staff risking their lives daily. As I entered the corridor I could feel the fresh air and it felt good. The ambulance dropped me at my front door. What now?
I can honestly say I’ve never felt as sorry for myself as I did at that moment. I was weak, exhausted, still coughing, still on antibiotics, still ill. How was I going to cope?
God knew I needed strength to change my bed, clean my bathroom, put on some washing and begin cleaning the house. That night as I lay in bed thanking the Lord for coming out of hospital alive and breathing fresh air, the words of an old hymn came to mind. The 3rd verse says-: “He is not a disappointment! He is all in all to me- Saviour, Sanctifier, Keeper; The unchanging Christ is He! He has won my heart’s affections, And He meets my every need; He is not a disappointment, For He satisfies indeed.”
Over the next week, ladies from my church family provided me with lunches and dinners(and desserts😊). Cards arrived in the post, shopping was done and my lawns and hedges tended to. Every need I had was met and more. I was reminded by the Lord again of the passage in Matthew 6:26-34 where Jesus speaks of how God looks after the birds of the air and yet we are of more value than they. In the same passage He tells us not to worry because it doesn’t do anything for us.
Over the next 2 weeks I found myself telling others that I was getting my strength daily from the Lord. In Exodus 17, the Israelites were in battle. When Moses held his arms up, the battle went in their favour but when his arms tired and dropped, they began to lose. God had gone before them. Aaron and Hur stood with Moses. When his arms tired, they held them up. Wow!!!! When I didn’t have the strength to look after myself, God had gone before me and provided others to help me.
I also remembered the words of a man in our church prayer meeting. -God’s not done with me yet. That’s what I firmly believe, He has something yet for me to do in this world I don’t call home, that I’m just passing through.
“Mummy, do you know some people call Christmas-Xmas? That is just like taking Christ out of Christmas. I don’t like it.” These were the words spoken by the Ginger Kitten a few days before he finished school.
I was so pleased to hear him speak these words at such a young age. He realises the importance of the word and what it means to us believers at this time of year.
It can be a huge trigger for many, especially those who suffer from depression like myself or who have other physical/mental illnesses. I was determined this year not to dip as low as I had last year.
I am a facilitator for WRAP which is a recovery program. Wellness Recovery Action Plan. It is something I’ve done for around five years now and which I’m quite passionate about as anyone I’ve spoken to on the subject will know.
WRAP allows an individual to plan for situations which may trigger off a period in which they are unwell. Christmas as I said can be such a trigger.
So how did I plan? I wrote lists – lists of who was going to receive a present and what it was. I made a lot of presents this year, and that in itself helped me in a therapeutic way. I looked at who was coming to dinner and when which also helped with shopping. I rested. I took time out instead of running around like a headless chicken. I breathed – I downloaded an app to help me breathe and sleep and…I spent time with those I love.
All of this planning helped a lot but so did the love and support of those close to me. I belong to a small family but we are close and always there for one another.
This Christmas I was privileged to spend many happy times with another family. Not everyone shares these experiences. However, at this time of year we remember how Jesus left His Father and was born into a family here on earth. Family is important to God. He never intended us to live alone. He created the family unit to provide love and support and to make each day easier as we help each other practically too. I am also a member of God’s family. I am a daughter of the King and there are so many brothers and sisters in Christ for whom I am truly grateful who added to the joy I experienced this season.
There was a lot of fun this Christmas. Fun being off work, fun trying new things, fun seeing my boys open their presents, fun with family, fun going out for the day and fun making memories together.
Celebrating my faith, spending time with loved ones all have given me hope for the year ahead. But as 1 Corinthians 13:13 says:
“And now abide faith, hope and love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”
Love has been evident to me this Christmas. God loved me so much that He let His only Son come to earth and be born in a lowly stable. Jesus left Heaven knowing one day He would die on a cross for my sins. So as I go through 2020 I want love to be more evident in my life as I live each day for Him and His glory.
Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, Because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness.
Lamentations 3:22-23
This post should have been written a few weeks ago but it’s a busy time of year with the birthdays of the boys and getting back to school and work routines…
….so on 17th August it was exactly a year ago that I moved out of the house I’d lived in for 20 years. The house which I remember not existing and the architect showing where our garden would stretch back to. The house where grey walls and floors were gradually replaced with paint, wood, tiles and carpet. The house where each room would gather stuff and memories of things that happened there.
Notice I called it a house. Somehow I never thought of it as home even when I made my quilts and cross stitch pictures. Now I have a home. Somewhere I look forward to coming to after work or a day out like today. It’s a place I can turn on the lights, kick off my shoes, light a candle and relax.
What is the difference? God is central in this home. He gave it to me and in it He has supplied all I need and much more as He has promised in His word in the verses I quoted at the beginning of this post.
In this home, new memories are being made. The Squid and the Ginger Kitten play and fight and pray. They look on as I’m able to spend more time with them and reading and studying God’s precious word. We bake cakes, we make models, have Nerf wars-a lot. They see a happier me, more relaxed and freer with time.
God has been so faithful in this year when my belief in myself was low. He has brought new people and new things into my life and although I may change, He never will and of that fact I am truly grateful.
When the Squid was younger, he used to sit on the floor playing with his StarWars Lego and while he would play, he would be humming the music from a particular scene in the movie. I always kept him going saying if his life had a theme tune it would be out of one of those movies.
I was looking at photos on the laptop and came across the Squid with bags of Lego pieces, a huge smile on his face in anticipation of building something enormous. That’s what made me think of the memory above. I can smile at that memory and others but to be honest, as I clicked through photos of the last 20 years of my life, many brought tears to my eyes. There were pictures of loved ones no longer here; ones of friends no longer part of my life; and then there were ones of me. In many of them I look tired, overweight, hair pulled back, ill fitting clothes and in some of them I could sense a fake smile or two. But then I was reminded by someone that we can’t get those times back and we can’t do anything about them.
Which brings me back to movies. There’s nothing like a good movie to cheer you up-it did. I’ve always loved movies. I’ll watch almost anything as long as there is a good story. ‘An Affair to Remember’ is probably my all time favourite romance. ‘Rebecca’ is another black and white favourite. Musicals like The King and I’, ‘South Pacific’ and The Sound of Music’. I enjoy a bit of action too. ‘Gone in 60 Seconds’, ‘The Bourne Identity’, ‘The Avengers’…. I could go on.
We watch movies to entertain and escape but then we have to come back to reality. Life isn’t like the movies. Sometimes the girl does get the guy, the family live in a beautiful house with a white picket fence or the pet gets to live another day.
For most of us life is not a fantasy but a harsh reality, made up of a collection of memories.
We are not the only ones who remember. God knows about everything we say, think or do. He is omniscient after all. Often when I think of the life to come and giving an account to God, I often wonder if it will be like watching a movie as God points out things that have occurred. But then I remembered a verse about our sins.
“I, I am He who blots out your transgressions for my own sake, and I will not remember your sins.” Isaiah 43:25
What an amazing truth. Yet the enemy tries to torture us with memories of past sins. He is the accuser but thankfully I can say I am redeemed by the blood of the lamb and when he tries to remind me of my past I can remind him of his future.
This is the time of year in schools when reports are given out. I’ve waited ever so patiently for the Ginger Kitten to receive his 1st primary school report and for the Squid’s end of year report of High School.
Achievement is what teachers report on. We have to think of 30 different ways of saying the same thing. Reports send dread into the minds of many children and parents. Not everyone is a high achiever. Not every child receives top marks in tests or exams and so they often wonder what they have actually achieved.
I suppose that is why in school reports today, we do also comment on what children enjoy about school. It makes it more personal and gives the impression that we do know the children in our class when we mention little details like their favourite toy or some phrase they always say.
There is a difference between these 2 things. When I was diagnosed with PND after the Squid’s birth, I would meet with a CPN who would encourage me each day to write down something I had achieved and something I had enjoyed. That’s easy enough you may think-not so when you are suffering from depression, when you don’t seem to enjoy anything anymore and getting one foot out of the bed is an achievement. In those early days of recording my achievements versus the things I enjoyed, there were definitely more of the former than the latter. It was an achievement washing my hair; eating 3 meals a day; leaving the house for a reason other than giving my then husband a lift to work. Things I’d once enjoyed just didn’t feature in my life anymore.
However, something happened recently that reminded me of that time when I jotted things down in a spiral bound notebook with a pink flower on the cover.
A few months ago I spent a couple of afternoons cutting out squares and circles -49 of each-from cotton fabric. I wouldn’t say I enjoyed it, but, it was an achievement. I hadn’t made a quilt in a long time. I had bought fabric before the Ginger Kitten was born but hadn’t actually got round to making it for him.
Last weekend I attended a quilt exhibition with my BFF. Being surrounded in that small sanctuary by all the fabric, the myriad of colours, the simplicity of some and the complexity of the patterns of others fascinated me and I could feel a stirring up of my passion for textiles. So, I went home, got the circles and squares and dusted down the case of my sewing machine. I started the process of matching circles to complimentary squares and appliquéd them to one another with brightly coloured thread to match the warm, bright colours of the batiks. Before I knew it, photos were being sent to friends of the progress being made. I looked forward to spending a little time each day with my old friend, hearing my machine purr contentedly under my direction.
Hold on! This was not a sense of achievement being reported on . No! This was once again an enjoyable past time. My motivation to get this quilt complete so that I could begin another project I wanted to attempt was building up inside me. I took down numerous books to look for inspiration. I even ventured out to the shed to bring in my stash of fabric and collection of threads.
It was as if enjoyment had sneaked up behind achievement and overtaken it at the last corner in the last minute to win the race.
In the Christian life, God wants us to have an abundant life but we are also accountable. I for one know that I wish to hear those words ‘Well done, good and faithful servant’. However, the relationship I have with the Lord does not depend on works. Yes, I am saved to serve, but works alone can never achieve salvation.
Even in this hobby of quilting I look for ways I can encourage others in their faith, point souls to Him or just glorify God with the talent He has bestowed upon me. So I make gifts for friends, family and colleagues and as I spend the hours seeing by hand or machine, I can pray with each stitch that is completed. What a privilege to spend time talking with the Lord while doing something I enjoy so much.
Today in the UK we are celebrating our fathers, grandfathers, fathers in law and father figures in general. I was intrigued to know how this tradition began. It seems to have come from across the pond in the US where in 1910, a young woman was inspired during a mothers’ day sermon to honour her father.
I am fortunate to have my father or daddy as I call him, still with me. I realise there are many today who will visit graves to remember the father they once had.
My daddy called me his princess on my wedding day and of course it made me cry. What girl wouldn’t? When I was a baby, he used to sit at the bottom of my cot to check I was breathing. At 3, he taught me how to swim, taking away any fear of the water and making it fun. At school I shed many tears over maths homework’s and my daddy always knew how to solve those equations. When my first boyfriend dumped me, my daddy was there to hug his princess. When I started driving, he would always stay awake until I came in at night and as a student he wrote the most heartfelt letters, phoned everyday and often drove to the main postal office in Belfast to ensure I got an envelope with money the very next day…
Those are just some of the examples of the things my daddy has done for me over my lifetime. Of course there are other things I have learned from my dad and acquired from him.
He is not afraid to show his emotions. He worked hard all his life and instilled this work ethic in me. He loves reading, a passion we both share. You can overcome adversity. When you do something, you give it 100%. Family comes first, love conquers all and that we all need God in our life.
Sadly, not everyone can relate to this important man in my life. Not everyone has a loving father or one who is interested in them or who will do anything for them. There are those who may read this who have never had a father figure in their life. There are those who may have had an abusive father or have been abandoned by him at some point in their lives. Or maybe like my boys, the relationship between parents has broken down…
I often think about the effect on my two boys. The Squid is older and has more knowledge of what went on before I finally left the family home. He is a deep thinker and a worrier. Usually you can see it on his face. He’s been angry and sad about what has happened. The important thing is to let him talk about it. To try and see it through his eyes and of course, pray with him and for him.
The Ginger Kitten is a different story. He was so tiny when we broke up , nothing really was said. The transition is equally difficult for him as it is for the rest of us, but through time hopefully he will have more of an understanding of the whys and wherefore.
Looking for love after divorce is difficult for most. I am no exception. As someone who was used to putting the needs of others first before her own, it comes as no surprise to me that quite often when I’ve spoken about the type of man I’m looking for, I think about how ‘he’ will meet the needs of my boys. Looking for love for me isn’t just about me. I have 2 little people too. They come along with the emotional baggage we divorcees trail behind us.
My boys need a spiritual leader first and foremost. I tried to fulfil this role for many years but do believe a man should be the spiritual leader in the home. They need someone who puts family first, who is interested in the small stuff as well as the bigger issues. Someone who takes time to talk with them about what is important in their life and spend time with them. Someone who loves their mother and works with her to train them up in the way they should go. Is this just a pipe dream? Definitely not. Such men do exist.
In Psalm 68:5-6 we can see how every family derives it’s name from the Father and God the Father is the model for headship in our families.
“A father of the fatherless,
A defender of windows,
Is God in His holy habitation.
God sets the solitary in families;
He brings out those who are bound into prosperity;
But the rebellious dwell in a dry land.”
All of us can have an experience with our Heavenly Father. All of us have a relationship with Him, either one where we can accept him as a father or one where we are rebellious and not accepting of his love and grace or anything else he is willing to bestow on us.
So this Fathers’ Day think not only of your earthly father but of a Heavenly one who loves you with an everlasting love.
“If you had a broken leg, are you telling me you wouldn’t get a plaster cast on?”
It was a serious question asked by my frustrated GP in January, 2006. I too felt frustrated , helpless, fearful and had come for reassurance. 14 months after the birth of the Squid and my return to work, I was told by a Community Psychiatric Nurse that I needed to take time off work and begin medication to help me…
My initial response had been the same argument I was using with my GP. Take time off work? I’ve been off for 14 months. I can’t take more time off. I’ve a classroom full of little people depending on me. I’ll cost my school money if I’m off sick. I need to work for my family. What will people say? Medication? No way. You can get addicted to those things…
I’m not good at arguing. I don’t like confrontation and I’m a people pleaser. I held up the white flag and said YES to the dreaded meds. I thought the battle was over, but hey, it had only just begun.
I’ve always been a very vivid dreamer but nothing prepared me for what I was about to experience. Fluoxetine-more commonly known as Prozac sent my mind into overdrive while I attempted to sleep at night. I awoke in the mornings feeling even more tired than when I’d gone to sleep and yet I waited 5 or 6 weeks before going back to the GP. After all, weren’t these anti depressants supposed to help? I had gone against everything I believed to take these drugs and now I felt worse…
“This often happens…” I was told. It can take a while to get the right drug and dose. For me, it was 3 attempts before that happened. I felt like a helpless animal in a lab, being experimented on. Except this seemed more like the trial and error approach than a controlled experiment.
13 years on, yes, 13! and the world of drugs still fills me with apprehension. For each successive depressive episode , I was put on my last known pill and dose only to become that guinea pig again. It’s all about chemicals and a lot of other factors I don’t really understand-being a very unscientific person-I did pass my GCSE Biology but it’s not a grade I reveal readily.
So 6 years ago after the Ginger Kitten entered my life I immediately was given Cipralex-also known as Escitalopram. It didn’t work so with the advice of a psychiatrist I was given Vensir. The people pleaser in me did as I was told. Surely he knew best? I needed help and fast and if this drug was good at treating depression, was that not the answer for me and my family?
In the short term-yes. It did work. I was able to return to work after maternity leave, work a shorter week, didn’t need therapy and lived happily ever after…
Huh! This isn’t a Hans Christian Anderson fairytale, no, it’s more like one from The Brothers Grimm. When I felt a bit better I looked into coming off Vensir. Oh dear! No, really, oh my goodness! Whose idea was it to put me on these things? “They’re the best drug for your present situation…” they said-and I had believed them!!!!!! Oh I felt like the victim of a fraudulent scam, that I’d been duped big time. Now I was scared, fearful that I’d be on these things for life. A few times I had forgotten to take 1 or ran out and what happened next wasn’t pretty. By the next morning of missing a tablet I would be tearful, by lunchtime I would be in a state of high alert and anxiety. By tea time I would be having suicidal thoughts!
Of course I could have just accepted that as the Borg in Star Trek say, “Resistance is futile , ” and it was meant to be that I remain on these tablets. Except I couldn’t do that. I’m a Christian. I am a daughter of the king. He loves me with an everlasting love and nothing can ever pluck me out of His hand. Just as an earthly father will do anything for their child (I am fortunate to have experienced this with my own daddy) , my Heavenly Father wants the best for me too. So in the grand scheme of things I needed to remain on the dreaded meds because my marriage was going to end and He also knew the best time for me to start the process of withdrawal. I’ve always attempted to come off meds at this time of year, simply because as a teacher I’ll have a long break without the added stress of work. Of course there are other factors. My divorce will soon be complete, I’m settled in my new God given home, my boys and I are getting used to a new normal way of life, I’ve supportive family and friends, I’m spending time with people who make me feel truly happy and I feel I am living the abundant life that Jesus spoke of in John 10:10.
“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” ESV
The devil sought to steal my joy, destroy my life and kill me through depression but his scheme didn’t work and with the Lord’s help daily, I’m still in my journey to joy.
I’m not at home this weekend which is a rarity. No visit to the beach but a weekend away with a group of my church family. A weekend of fun, food, fellowship and emerging ourselves in God’s precious Word.
…Harsh Words!
Words… are made up of letters which are put into sentences – that’s at the most basic level. That’s what I explain to the little people I teach when they are learning to write.
…Harsh Words!
Words…are a form of communication which can be written, read, spoken aloud or even sung. They are more than just squiggles on a page or other surface. They hold meaning. We use them to express our feelings, emotions, opinions and so much more.
…Harsh Words!
Words…can be used for good or bad; creation or destruction; encouragement or criticism; love or hatred; enlightenment or ignorance. The list is endless.
…Harsh Words!
On this weekend we have had 3 sessions so far. However it is 2 words from the first that have been spinning around in my head – HARSH WORDS. As you know by now, the past few years have been a difficult journey. As one of our speakers reminded us, on our walk of faith we will experience difficult journeys that will have, yes, will have valley and mountain top experiences as well as smooth and rough roads. All of this I can testify to.
One thing we experience on a difficult journey are – Harsh Words! Proverbs 18:21 says: “Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat it’s fruit.”
This verse in the book of Proverbs reminds us that our words have an impact on other people. This is something I have mentioned before. Our words are a serious matter. Everyone knows the childhood rhyme – “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.” – I think everyone also knows that the second part of the rhyme is a complete lie. Names/words will hurt no matter how strong or resilient we are.
I always believed I was a strong person. I always believed I was a strong person. Emotional, but strong. I thought I could listen to what people said and if it wasn’t pleasant, I could just let it go over my head. How wrong I was. You see, I didn’t take into account that I would have to listen continually to negative words Day in day out, week in week out, year in year out until I was broken in spirit and completely overwhelmed by despair. Neither did I anticipate it coming from someone I loved.
It wasn’t until a short while after the Squid’s 4th Birthday when there was a family illness and I experienced another depressive episode that the light bulb went on inside my head. Something had worn me down. Something had worked its way inside my head until I had no self worth or confidence – HARSH words over and over. So how do we overcome them? How do we ignore or avoid them? Ultimately it cost me my marriage. Where was the love when negativity choked my joie de vivre?
This verse I pray when I hear harsh words. Isaiah 54:17
“No weapon that is formed against me shall prosper; and every tongue that shall against me in judgement thou shalt condemn….”
I also pray these words over the Squid and Ginger Kitten because they still hear those Harsh Words on a regular basis. The impact it has I try to counteract when they are with me but I leave it in God’s hands because He is greater than he who is in the world.
So remember, think before you speak as your words have an impact and God’s Word has a mighty impact on us all.
Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, Because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness.
Today in the UK we are celebrating our fathers, grandfathers, fathers in law and father figures in general. I was intrigued to know how this tradition began. It seems to have come from across the pond in the US where in 1910, a young woman was inspired during a mothers’ day sermon to honour her father.
I’m not at home this weekend which is a rarity. No visit to the beach but a weekend away with a group of my church family. A weekend of fun, food, fellowship and emerging ourselves in God’s precious Word.
Journey to Joy 