For a project given to me by the spirit weeks ago, it has now been officially rebuilt from scratch for the THIRD TIME!
My girls, Morgan and Lyss, visited and let me complete the project. It exported to PDF and I took that little Zip drive to Staples.
Everything is printed on nice cardstock.
Tomorrow, I shall trim the sheets and bind them by my prayer-filled hands.
Thank you, Jesus. You really wanted this gift to be given to Master Luiz, ONJJ and the BJJ community. Please prepare the hearts of those who receive it for ONJJ , Pedro and Master Perez. Thank you for staying on my back and holding me close. I love, love, LOVE you.
This morning, I flipped to Isaiah 22–23—pages in my Bible that had never been marked, which is rare for me. And as soon as my eyes landed on the words, “You saw the breaches in the wall…” something in my spirit stirred. Breaches. Blind spots. Exposed places. The kinds of openings in jiu-jitsu that an opponent takes instantly.
Isaiah 22 is a picture of vulnerability—cracks in the defenses, unseen angles, places where we try to fix things ourselves. But the Spirit whispered, “Daughter, you do not guard your own back. I do.” Then chapter 23 shifts the tone completely. From judgment to sovereignty. From exposure to restoration. It is Yahweh saying:
“I see the openings. I see the places you cannot protect. And I will be the One who stands behind you.”
Not an accident.
Not a coincidence.
A setup.
Later, the Lord gave me a song—“Stay” by Zahriya Zachary—and as soon as I heard it, I felt the seatbelt.
That secure, unbreakable hold in jiu-jitsu when someone takes the back with intention, with closeness, with stability. The moment the song said, “If my head’s on Your chest, I can hear Your heartbeat,” it felt like the exact pressure of an arm across the shoulder. Then “If my hand’s in Your hand,” felt like the underhook that completes the seatbelt.
The whole song is a spiritual rear-mount revelation:
He closes the space between us He breathes life into me He anchors me He guides my movement He knows my soul He holds me with no holding back
This is the ultimate jiu-jitsu metaphor:
Jesus has my back.
And not loosely.
Not casually.
Not “spiritually symbolic.”
But in the most real, embodied way—like an instructor settling behind you to protect, to steady, to teach.
In jiu-jitsu, the back is the power position.
It is the safest place for you and the most dangerous place for whatever opposes you.
It is control, guidance, protection, and presence.
It is where the breath is felt most closely.
It is where trust is necessary and surrender is holy.
And today, the Lord gave me a picture of Himself taking my back with a perfect seatbelt grip—an embrace that says:
“I see every breach. I know every blind spot. You don’t have to defend what you can’t see.
Stay close to Me. Stay tethered.
Let My heartbeat steady you. Let My breath fill your lungs. I’ve got you.”
Isaiah 22 exposed the walls.
Isaiah 23 showed the restoration.
And the song “Stay” wrapped it all in the reminder:
“This is the gift of My great love—so stay.”
Stay close.
Stay tethered.
Stay held.
Stay in the position where He guides your movement and guards every unseen angle.
I love that my Savior has such a sense of humor.
He knew exactly how to speak to me today—
in the language of breath,
the language of the mat,
the language of intimacy,
the language of grappling,
the language of a daughter learning a new art and a new obedience.
Jesus has my back.
And because He does, I will stay.
Thank you, Jesus! Thank you for ONJJ. Please use Jiu-Jitsu Wilderness for YOUR GLORY.
I love, love, LOVE when God shows off , especially in our store.
A gentleman walked in with a kind face and a sweet spirit about him, just looking for a particular flavor. That’s all it takes sometime—a spark — and before long I was captivated into hearing tons of cool stories.
I thought I was a music buff. I am, but Kevin is a musical maestro.
I heard stories about how he moved here from Louisiana 42 years ago, though he was adamant in telling me he kept his house in Louisiana, too. He lived in John Prine’s guest house for a year and a half after moving up to Nashville. It makes sense to me those two were as tight as he described.
It was easy to imagine the John at his prime, helping Kevin with his dog at the vet. The way Kevin shared it, he couldn’t read English or sheet music when he moved here. Ronnie Milsap hired him because he read “music by number” and was incredibly forthright in his opinions. He also worked with Sister Hazel and Martina McBride.
Kevin told Ronnie a song wasn’t very good in how it laid out the guitar! He didn’t even realize Ronnie Milsap was blind when they first met.
He told me he’s Cajun through and through, laughing as he described his dog’s name — “Fido,” spelled P-H-I-D-E-A-U-X — because in his words, “I speak 1800s French English”, or something to that effect.
I shared my a bit about my “Loosy-Anna” soul sister, Cassie and my pronouncing “Metairie” incorrectly in Louisiana. He got a chuckle out of it. We talked about marriage, kids, and the funny ways life circles us back to the people and the places we’re meant to meet.
At exactly the moment he was getting ready to leave and I welcomed Miss Patty with my usual smile. Without missing a beat she returned the smile and said, “You’ll let anybody in here!”
That’s when it hit — she and Kevin were family. Her brother-in-law. They hadn’t seen each other in nearly a year, even though they live just ten minutes apart.
God had other plans today — plans that included a little vape shop, a Blonde Polish Chick and Cajun Kevin and Patty sharing a copious amount of laughter. His ways are higher than ours, always
Because that’s how He moves — through the smallest moments that somehow feel orchestrated, the way only He could.
Thank you, Jesus, for orchestrating this day so beautifully. I sure do love you!
Quickly after sharing my thoughts on EZE 47:12 and REV 22:2, I got a nudge to ask Chat GPT to create an image of the tree. It was quite a strange nudge. When the image returned, I felt a surge and a reminder of what was written on my own “tree island”.
“Carol, you’re a river of love—-calm, deep and always moving forward.”
When Anna gave me my felt island in early July, I was nudged to use a chalk marker and write PSA 1:3. It made a sense that day but now evolves into a much deeper meaning. My elevated tree and streams from July now makes perfect sense.
This morning, Brother Gary stopped by the shop, and somehow the conversation circled back to the river again — that same one Ezekiel saw, that same one flowing from the throne in Revelation.
He told me about their family vacation on Alabama Shores. He and his wife still pray the rosary together every morning. Last week was different because they prayed it together, out loud on the beach, while facing the rising sun.
There’s something sacred about a husband and wife speaking faith into the same wind — the marital covenant magnifying every word. And while they prayed, Gary whispered a simple request: “Lord, if it’s Your will, let us see a dolphin.”
Within ten minutes, the water broke and there it was — a shimmering answer to a small, holy wish. Seeing Gary’s eyes light up like a kid at Christmas was precious.
Later that evening, as the sun slipped behind the horizon, their youngest, little Miss Sadie, looked at the sky and said something to the effect of , “God is an amazing artist.”
Miss Sadie is 100% correct! The same Artist who colored that sky also paints His presence in our ordinary days. I thought about my own little tree on the island — how it stands between the banks like the tree of life, roots deep in the current, leaves reaching toward the light.
I see God almost everywhere. I can’t lie and say I see Him in everyone. I just do my job and search for Jesus in everyone I meet.
I came back to settle into Psalm 1:3 for the day. Anna did not write Scripture under my island. However, her heart did write the spirit of the matter in different words.
That verse is the echo of everything God placed in my heart and mind today. The righteous tree, the river of life, the healing leaves — they’re all telling the same story: stay close to the Source. The branch doesn’t force fruit; it just carries what the Vine supplies.
So I sit here with happy tears again, remembering Brother Gary’s dolphin, Miss Sadie’s sunset, and my little tree by the water. Lord, bring the grandmother peace, as well as Anna and her husband.
The river still flows.
The branches still carry life.
And God — the Artist of sunrises, sunsets, dolphins, healing leaves and everything under the sun—-keeps painting His presence into every moment that stays still long enough to notice.
Thank you, Father God, for sending your son to die for humanity. We surely didn’t deserve such a beautiful gift. Thank you for reminding me who I am to you and in you. I love you.
This morning, the first word in my ear was “delta”. Wowza, what a lesson that was for me about my constant source! Seamlessly, the next place He took me was the connection He made for me in EZE 47:12 and REV 22:2 last year.
Talk about imagery! There’s a river that begins in the presence of God.
Ezekiel saw it first—water pouring out from beneath the threshold of the temple, turning salt water fresh, bringing life wherever it flowed. He wrote,
Centuries later, John saw that same river—this time in the New Jerusalem, clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb.
CONSIDER THE SOURCE, YESSIR!! #ISWYDT
Excuse me while I do a happy dance. I heard “consider the source” around March 2024. I only remember it because He tied the message to farm fresh eggs. Just that change to my earthly diet generated 26 pounds of weight loss. When people ask how I’ve lost so much weight, I can honestly say my diet was loaded with bread and water…from Coach Jesus. Praise God, it’s still about 96 pounds which has been circumcised from my body.
The nudges to consider the source of any given thing have been distinct. How did I not realize they were unique in their sameness? They are not identical. It’s a distinct nudge to allow Scripture to soak into me so deeply that it “geeks me out” a pinch.
Both prophets were describing the same thing:
God moving through creation, feeding and healing everything it touches.
And then Jesus said,
Suddenly the vision becomes personal.
That river doesn’t just run beside us—it runs through us.
The same life that flows from the throne now courses through the Vine, into the branches, out into the world.
We don’t generate it; we simply stay connected so it can keep flowing.
The plants, the oils, the leaves—every green thing—is part of that same design.
They don’t compete with the Healer; they reveal Him.
They remind us that His restoration still moves through the natural world, that grace is as tangible as sap in a stem.
So I sit here quietly, realizing:
I’m just a branch, but I know where the Source flows from.
And if I stay attached, the same living water that makes the leaves heal and the fruit nourish will keep moving through me too—
Father God teaches me lessons from such a different perspective than anything readily found on the internet. For example, the way He delivered the power of Lamentations 3:58, merely 7-8 hours ago was executed with precision.
He woke me with a distinct need to know the episode number of the Joe Rogan Experience show with Chadd Wright. What He did with one verse is precious to me.
Praise God, it was easy to share the heart of that revelation with my husband over coffee. I also shared the heart of “Jesus, Jiu-jitsu & Joe Rogan” with him. Obedience is no joke!
As I was getting ready to leave the house, I had a powerful nudge to focus on the difference between excitement and anxiety in accordance with His Word.
#ISWYDT 💜✝️💜
That said, it is not unusual to be nudged about dreams. In fact, it’s quite the norm. Well, I had some weird dreams last night about various large groups in my lifetime, including vivid MySpace memories.
Something about MySpace inherently brings up both anxiety and excitement. I love, love, LOVE people. It legit used to break my heart how much people exhaust me. Now, I know He designed me this way to bring it all to Him. Perhaps anxiety, like fear, is a liar.
A dirty, filthy liar is he…the demon of anxiety .
For the sake of posterity, I snagged a screenshot of Jonah’s article. Just reading it brings the anxiety to surface long enough to rebuke it. 🤣. I also sent my daughter a text about how one of her bands. “All Time Low”,shared MySpace with her mom. As I told my kids, they can laugh all they want, but MySpace was the closest thing we have ever had to “good social media”.
In retrospect, it makes perfect sense the stories I shared as “Burst My Bubble” were not as popular as Tila’s photo blogs! She was quite literally the most popular person on MySpace. As “Gigi”, I wrote about real life, real relationships and my very real faith as “Burst My Bubble”. I openly shared my perspective and engaged in all kinds of discourse.
Praise God, it did Make a Difference. This was in a December 2006 USA Weekend. In June 2007, our “We are ONE” MySpace project was awarded one of the 10k checks at Dodger Stadium. #ISWYDT
USA Weekend final issue was 12/28/2014
While there is much anxiety to recall from the MySpace era, it’s also exciting to remember how God was moving in my life at that time. I wrestled with faith in a different way back then. There is always more to learn about Our Sovereign God and wrestling teaches me the most.
Wrestling! Make a Difference! #ISWYDT!
Despite the copious demands on our time, I have 31 “jiu-jitsu mat” quotes tied to scripture as of this morning. They are the heart of what I will now nickname the “5J’s”.
Thank you, Jesus, for a “good digression”.
Granted, writing in My God Room is a completely different type of wrestling. YESSIR! I don’t write for an earthly audience; I write out of my love for Him. It’s part of my relationship with Jesus to keep a diary of all my “cool experiences ” with Him.
How could this lesson or the 5J’s be anything other than “good excitement “?
Well, something in part of the dream caused me to imagine the worst case scenario. Rather confusing, as I can’t recall feeling a “negative” in any dream of the past three years.
The gist of the negative was it raised essentially stupid questions. What if this Blonde Polish Chick’s gift to a perceived brother lands like a pie in my own face? What if a certain Torah teacher blasted out My God Room with her brand of vitriol? And so on.
A dirty little liar, indeed, anxiety.
As soon as the first negative impression came to heart from the dream, I had Phil 4:6 replacing it. It does not matter if billions of people judged me. I am only pressed and pruned by The One. I trust Him explicitly. If the Good Lord plans to let me be embarrassed, it’s for His Good Purpose.
Suddenly, I am remembering cartwheels in Blue Ridge, our store, the nail salon, the ball park and more. The first one was elevated at Stacy’s home. There is a joke in there which will not translate to any other reader. God Knows, He didn’t have me cartwheeling to hurt me. He used them to put smiles on others faces.
Sometimes I get so full of energy it almost feels anxious, not only to me, but to others. I feel excitement and others perceive anxiety. Granted, it’s not the heavy, fearful kind — more like a child who can’t wait to open a gift. I understand it can annoy some folks, either way.
I write out a ton of my gratitude here because it would overwhelm most who know me. I come to My God Room to leave it all with my Father. I am super blessed he always leaves me better than He found me.
In closing, I will share the definitions I prayed over before pouring out my hyper-excited spirit today.
In Hebrew, the word for anxiety is דָּאָג (da’ag) — to be heavy, uneasy, weighed down.
The Greek word is μεριμνάω (merimnaō) — to be divided in the mind, pulled apart by thoughts.
Both paint the same picture in my mind of broken trust. I lean more into how David, Paul and Silas sang and praised instead of being anxious. When I am singing praises, there is no room for anxiety. Thank you, Jesus, for getting us to Mamertine Prison two years ago.
What a difference two definitions can make to being clarity!
The word closest to excitement is קָוָה (qavah). (often transliterated kavah), which literally means to bind together by twisting, to wait with expectation, or to look eagerly.
I will be deep diving that one in the near future. Soon. 😇
In the 5J Collection, , there are Coach’s Notes listed as “JOY-JITSU”. While it describes my feelings exactly, I did not come up with that on my own. Every time I typed Jiu- it auto corrected to JOY. Upon reflection, it’s an accurate way to share my perspective as the BPC 🤣
If I were to put a coaches note on today…it may say something like :
“ Energy is just fuel — it can burn you out or light you up. Keep praying to stay lit and very salty “. 💜✝️💜
Thank you, Father God, for every little thing, seen or, sent by you. Thank you for all this energy clearly being used to know YOU better. That’s the entire purpose. I love you. Your will,not mine, be done. In Jesus mighty name. Amen.
For weeks now, He’s been speaking to me in water language — wellspring, pouring out, vessels, the Jesus jug. My roots have been washed clean and yet I do not feel naked.
I’ve written about it, felt it, lived it. But suddenly, this ancient truth — this joy of drawing — came alive in a new way.
🜂 The Source
That phrase “with joy” caught me. It doesn’t say with striving or with fear that the well might be empty. It’s joy in the drawing — joy that assumes there’s something already waiting beneath the surface.
God’s salvation isn’t a cup we sip once and set down. It’s a well. Deep, living, replenishing. And when I go to draw from it, I’m not begging for water — I’m celebrating the Source.
⸻
🜃 The Vessel
A few weeks ago, I wrote about my “Jesus jug.” It’s just a symbol, but it’s become a precious reminder to me that I am simply a vessel.
Paul said, “We have this treasure in jars of clay” (2 Cor. 4:7).
That means what’s valuable isn’t the jug — it’s what’s inside. And when I pour it out in love, prayer, or story, He fills it again.
Pouring isn’t losing. Pouring is proof that I’ve been filled.
⸻
🜄 The Pouring
Jesus said, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink. Whoever believes in Me… out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.” (John 7:37–38)
That river language — flowing out — keeps returning to me. When the Spirit moves, He doesn’t pool up; He pours. And everything He touches grows.
I’ve realized that when I write, speak, or even weep in obedience, that’s water flowing. My job isn’t to manage the current — just to stay open.
⸻
🜁 The Drawing
This is where discernment comes in. “How do I know if it’s from God?” I’ve asked that so many times.
The answer He keeps whispering is simple: joy. Joy is the signature of living water. Not giddiness — but that deep peace, that exhale of knowing He’s here.
If it drains life, it’s not from Him. If it restores life, it’s the well.
⸻
🜅 The Overflow
Jesus told the woman at the well, “The water I give will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” (John 4:14)
That means at some point, you stop drawing and start overflowing, in theory.
I think that’s what’s been happening lately — my well isn’t just for me anymore. It’s spilling into places I didn’t even know were thirsty: conversations, family moments, even this blog.
The joy of salvation doesn’t stay hidden in the ground. It rises.
It is more like than this spiritual garden He has tenderly watered with my tears, His pruning, and His promise. It’s not about “me”, only the relationship I have with Jesus.
And now He’s saying: share it. Pour it out. Let others taste and see.
So today, I’m lifting my little Jesus jug again and drawing from the wells of salvation — with joy. Because He never stops filling. And I never stop needing Him
There is an old joke at home that I shouldn’t speak before coffee. Well, this morning, I was nudged hard to share the word God put on my heart as I was waking.
“I need to look up the word spur. I used it yesterday when I was writing — ‘I was spurred to…’ — and I feel like there’s something in it.”
Mark went to retrieve our coffee and I entered a quick query into my phone.
Praise God for technology, especially when it is used to draw you closer to Father God!
The Spirit doesn’t waste a single word.
He uses even our “odd phrasing” to draw us deeper into His language. Spur? I knew there were no cowboys in The Bible. I had made a Cowboys joke with the request. What I found is too beautiful to not share.
“Spur” only presents itself directly in Hebrews:
Greek Word Study — παροξυσμός (paroxysmos)
The word spur in Hebrews 10:24 comes from the Greek παροξυσμός (paroxysmos).
It combines para (“beside”) and oxys (“sharp, keen, pointed”).
Literally, it means “a sharpening alongside.”
It’s where we get our English paroxysm — a sudden burst or intensity. Interesting to me that upon a 2025 definition, it’s predominantly a negative word. You can have a paroxysm of joy, but it appears to be an uncommon use.
In biblical context, it means a holy stirring — a sharp urging that awakens love into motion.
To spur one another on is to sharpen each other’s spirits until love breaks into action.
This isn’t a soft encouragement; it’s holy friction.
The kind of friendship that stirs, not soothes — that provokes us toward holiness, not comfort.
The Companion Word — παρακαλέω (parakaleō)
The Apostle Paul uses a softer word for encouragement in 1 Thessalonians 5 : 11
Here, encourage comes from παρακαλέω (parakaleō) — to come alongside and call forth courage.
It’s the same root as Paraclete — the name Jesus gave the Holy Spirit. Oh, how I love telling everyone about my “pair of cleats”. 😇
It rests on my heart like beautiful tension: :
παροξυσμός (paroxysmos) — the sharp spur that awakens.
παρακαλέω (parakaleō) — the gentle voice that steadies.
The Spirit does both — He stirs and steadies, awakens and anchors.
Biblical Context
Acts 15:39:Here, paroxysmos describes the “sharp disagreement” that led Paul and Barnabas to separate.
Hebrews 10:24:The word is used positively to encourage believers to “provoke one another (SPUR) to love and good deeds”.
To be fair, looking at the “negative” conflict, I see His Hand using that conflict to spread the Gospel. Even Google says: “This separation, though born from conflict, ultimately allowed for the expansion of the Gospel to different regions. “.
Hebrew roots?
While spur doesn’t appear as a direct word in Hebrew, its heartbeat pulses through the verbs of divine awakening. I will dive deeper into these when called to do so.
עוּר (ʿur)
Root meaning: to rouse, awaken, stir up, arouse oneself, incite, awaken into consciousness.
“The Lord stirred up the spirit of Cyrus king of Persia.” — Ezra 1 : 1
Super fun to see it doubled for emphasis in Isa 52:1.
This is ʿur twice — doubled for emphasis. It feels like a prophetic cry of restoration: “Wake up, dress in holiness, remember who you belong to!”
גָּרָה (garah)
Root meaning: to stir up, to excite, to provoke, to contend, to awaken into action
“Begin to provoke him to battle.” — Deut 2 : 24
שׁוּב (shuv)
Root meaning: to turn back, return, restore, bring back, repent.
“Turn us again, O God, and cause Thy face to shine.” — Ps 80 : 3
Of those three roots, my heart “moves to “shoove”, the pronunciation of shuv. This single root appears more than 1,000 times in the Hebrew Bible — more than any other verb of movement. It defines the very nature of repentance (teshuvah in Hebrew — literally “a returning”).
Everywhere this concept of “the Hebrew Spur” appears, the rhythm feels like “yield, awaken, MOVE!”
Awakening — The Spirit stirs (Ezra 1:1).
Sharpening — Community provokes one another to love (Hebrews 10:24).
Encouraging — The Spirit strengthens (1 Thess 5:11).
Surrender opens the door and the spur moves the feet. If Father God likes nudging me with the spur of His glorious cowboy boot spur, I am here for it. Thank you, Jesus!
Love in Truth and Action
To be spurred by God isn’t about being pressured — it’s about being prompted.
It’s the divine nudge that says it’s time to take action and move.
Maybe it’s time to forgive.
Maybe it’s time to serve.
Maybe it’s time to baptize, build, speak, or go.
Whatever the direction or action, the source is always the same. I love my internal GPS…God’s Perfect Son. I love these lessons which are anchoring my heart and spirit all the more to His Word.
I was spurred to study “spur” before coffee. I flipped to Numbers 14 and have been processing it most of the day. My Matthew 28:30 blanket at the shop had me singing a new song all day.
Father God, Stir me awake with Your holy spur. Sharpen my heart where it has grown dull, and provoke me to love that acts and gives and moves.
When I hesitate, remind me that the same Spirit who stirs me also strengthens me.
Spur me on, Lord — to love and good works. Thank you for washing me clean every morning and teaching me so tenderly with gusto. I am yours. Please keep the boot spur on my hind quarters, if necessary. In Jesus name, Amen.
Last night felt like one of those evenings that God writes Himself. It would be impossible to convey the depth. It brings up my own daughter’s habit years ago of how she would “recommend” things with four word sentence structures.
#ISWYDT Much words. Many feelings. 💜✝️💜
10 / 10. Father God, forgive me that “perfect tens” bring me back to old memories of Nadia at the Olympics. The only perfection on earth comes from you. Still, I see the parallels between balancing, vaulting and dancing for YOU versus the world.
John 10 : 10 and Revelation 10 : 10 work together beautifully. Those are the 10/10’s you used to stick a perfect landing in my heart. It may never look perfect to the world and that is the point. 💜✝️💜
Two verses—both ten ten—speaking the same rhythm: life received, word consumed, peace realized.
Like any married couple, we have a routine each evening. The last thirty minutes of our evening , we are typically snuggled up in bed watching something on TV. I curl up on my left side and rest in the nook of his right arm. I have always called it The Nook. 😇
Perhaps because I had been in the WORD all day, I was extra sensitive. I don’t claim to know HOW God moves. I only know He moved me to turn my eyes away from the TV last night and let it fade to background noise.
I placed my right hand over his heart and it felt like I melted into my husband.
I began to pray instead of watch.
I pictured the Name of Yahweh written in the palm of my hand—just as Scripture says His name is written on ours—and I whispered His breath-name with each inhale and exhale.
Yah (in) … Weh (out).
Gratitude poured out of me—thankfulness for this man, our marriage, for all the ways God has used him to protect us and our business. The kind of utterly raw gratitude born from being so in love with Jesus that I am feasting on His Word. Feeling so full of Him and thanking Him for all the truths He is revealing to me.
Thank you, Jesus, for all the treasures you have planted in my heart!
Breathe in. Breathe out. Then came deeper breathing and silently singing, “ Sanctify us by your truth. Your word is truth.” I have been hearing that scripture as a new song in my heart. It was a prime evening and the song was inspired directly by the doubly primed John 17:17.
I love, love LOVE how He connected John and Revelation 10:10’s for me. It helps my brain when He gives me “bookends”. He really is a Good, Good Father. He knows exactly how he wired my brain.
Last night was so much more than a wife silently singing, praising God and praying over her husband. For the past few months, the sanctity of our marital bed has been a dominant theme. It felt like our entire marital covenant was renewed without a single word being spoken between us.
I realized it was more than peace; it was perfect peace — shalom shalom. Certainly the closest to perfect peace I have experienced in nearly 58 years.
I felt something so deep and was exhausted beyond exhausted.
The still small voice is more than powerful and gave me strength when I was nudged to look deeper into what shalom really means. I studied it extensively over the past year, but I was so tired my brain was struggling to retrieve the heart of the word.
“Let the last words you hear tonight help you truly rest. Shalom is MY WORD, hear it “. That was the gist of the nudge.
So I asked the question via the internet and I read aloud to my husband the fullness of that word:
Shalom means not just calmness but wholeness, completeness, the harmony of body, soul, and spirit; how its root, shalem, means to be made whole; how true shalom shalom is peace stacked upon peace—heaven’s wholeness touching earth’s heart.
10 / 10 in every way.
The date of abundant life.
The verse of the sweet scroll.
Being in My Nook and realizing deeply it is His Nook. I felt both the embrace of my husband on earth and the embrace of the Father in heaven.
The evening of shalom shalom—perfect peace, twice spoken, fully lived.
Perfection, twice over.
Wowza. Another double portion. Thank you, Jesus.
PS. As a proverbial cherry on top of the heavenly sundae …this day is the anniversary of meeting Miss Roxanne in Montepulciano! Oh, how I love her!
My God Room 