When I was in school, report cards were sent home every six weeks. Today was our sixth Sunday service.
Creekmont would get Triple A grades across the board. We are both feeling more and more embraced and connected with our new church family. Mark even helped with the collection yesterday.
Given my journey to Jesus included Rich Mullins, it was wonderful to open our worship with “Awesome God”. Randy read from Psalm 31:24 — “Be strong, and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the Lord.”
The hymn we sang was Blessed Assurance.
On the left side of the page was Trust and Obey; on the right was Blessed Assurance.
We then sang I Know a Name, and it just felt like the Lord was weaving something gentle and sure through all of it — obedience, trust, assurance, and the power of His name.
When the sermon began, Shad preached from Matthew, where Jesus speaks about divorce and Leviticus 19. I love that he taught straight from Leviticus.
Something that caught my attention — he said that divorce is like a death, like visiting a funeral home every day. It was a hard truth, but filled with compassion. He reminded us that there’s no “R” branded for “robber,” or “A” marked for “adulterer.”
And right then, the Lord whispered something to my heart:
“The only letters that matter are the ones in red.”
The words of Jesus — those red letters — are what redeem and restore. They don’t label or condemn. They give life.
And I realized something humbling: every letter I’ve ever written that the Lord told me to write — He gave me the words. That’s why those letters reached people and impacted action. It had nothing to do with me, only Him speaking through me.
That reminder was grounding and good. It was one of those days when heaven felt very close.
It was so good, we returned last night to take part in their Fall Festival, despite not getting a much needed nap. When my daughter dropped by unannounced, it was a blessing to visit with her and her boyfriend. That said, it did take our nap time option!
Once we arrived home, I was rather fascinated with learning about Fanny’s life. She was blind and wrote countless hymns under numerous names. I stumbled across a few articles and videos about the stories behind hymns.
This one was so powerful to me, I sent to our pastor, with the request he share with the Worship Leader.
Today, I cleaned out one of the cabinets which must be moved tomorrow or Wednesday. Seeing it completely empty and waiting for us to fill it up again almost feels poetic.
Just as God will remove our dross, it feels like dross is being removed from our business. This is a rebirth and not a death.
That’s how it feels and I am going to embrace it.
Jesús, I could never thank you enough for all you’ve done, all you are doing and all you will do. thank you for letting me rest in your promises. I love you.
My God Room 