Saturday morning came very early, but the Lord met me before the sun did. I had prayed the night before that I would wake up before my alarm so I wouldn’t disturb my husband, and He did exactly that. Even though we were worn out from moving the shop on Friday — the kind of tired that sinks into your bones — I woke with enough strength, enough peace, and enough joy to step into the day He had prepared.
I slipped out quietly, left the house at 7:15, and arrived early to the women’s conference at our new church. My first one — ever. There was something tender about that, walking into a space I’d never occupied before, with a group of women I’m only beginning to know, yet already sensing God’s gentle stitching at the seams of new community.

Breakfast was sweet fellowship. I sat with Anatha, Hester, Tina, and Becky — each one warm, kind, and gracious in her own way. We talked, we laughed, and there was that familiar peace that only the Spirit can knit between hearts.

Then Anatha shared her testimony and led us in praise. It was raw and beautiful — the kind of sharing that reminds you God is always working, always redeeming, always inviting us deeper.
We did a little craft together — simple, hands-on worship — and it felt good to slow down long enough to create something with my hands. Miss Pam and Randy laser cut all the pieces for us to do this craft.
Father God, thank you for clearing the rubble. I don’t think it’s any coincidence Hurricane Melissa was creating worldly conflict in Jamaica and elsewhere—-reminding me of how I wrestled with Torah teachings which fail to include your spirit this time last year.
#ISWYDT

Afterward, we shared lunch, and the sweetness of that table lingered long after the dishes were cleared.
I even brought leftovers home for my husband — a small thing, but it felt like carrying home a piece of the day, a little offering from the fellowship I’d been welcomed into.

It was a truly lovely day — quiet, nourishing, gentle in all the ways I needed. I especially appreciated the deeper Godversation with Tina and Anatha. Both now have my phone number.
Arriving home, I succumbed to a wonderful nap “by my stream”. When I woke, we agreed to go spend the last two hours of Jenn’s Twelve Year Tenure with her at the one shop we still own.

Of all the things we could have given Jenn, we gave her our hearts. My husband will be driving the truck with all her belongings to Wisconsin for Jenn in two weeks. I was nudged to give her the craft I made and she was beyond thrilled.
The day was beautiful and blessed. Thank you, Jesus.





