As the worship team led a song familiar to most people called. “Lord I Give You My Heart,” I found myself focusing on the words more than I ever had before. (For those of you who don’t know it, I encourage you to check it out here.)

“This is my desire, to honor You.”  The first line hit me like a wave. As I walk through life, is this always my desire? Am I putting God above everything else? Life seems to tug at me from all sides, urging me to take a step to the left, or to the right- anything so that I’m not walking towards Christ. Yet when I’m off the right path, is it my true desire to honor God? To get back on track with Him?

“Lord, with all my heart I worship You.”  Was I really worshipping God with all my heart? Or were there other things that I was clinging to, trying to hide in the corners of my mind, but to no avail? Was I holding something else in higher esteem than the LORD of all the universe?

“All I have within me, I give You praise.”  How was I worshipping? Or was I at all? Could it be that I was so worried about everyone else’s focus, worrying about making sure the graphics were up at the right time, worrying that someone might think it weird if I closed my eyes or sung a little louder?

“All that I adore is in You…” This is when I became convicted of my half-hearted worship that evening. I knew without a doubt that I could sing that right there and mean it. My adoration was not solely on Christ alone like it should be, but at that moment I wanted it to be more so than ever before. I wanted to push everything out of my mind, throw it out, burn it up.

Tears began to trickle down my face as I earnestly sang out the chorus,

“Lord, I give you my heart, 

I give You my soul, I live for You alone,

Every breath that I take, every moment I’m awake,

Lord, have your way in me.”  

As I walk through this week and you walk through yours, I pray that our hearts desires may be for Christ alone and only Him. That our hearts would seek Him out and that we would give Him praise with all that we are.

To God be the Glory,

Paige

I wish I could say I’m ready, but to be honest- I’m not. I haven’t even fully decided on my major yet, I toss back and forth between 3 things. Trusting God in this is tough, but I know in the end my trust in Him reaps dividends. The comfort I receive in the power of Christ is unlike anything else. If you’ve never experienced it-  you’re really missing out.

I think back to 3 years ago when I thought my life was all planned out. I’d live in a hut along the coast of some unknown island with my Middle School sweet heart. We’d be missionaries and have 4 kids… we even had decided a few of their names. Now looking back I see my foolish thinking, believing I could plan and run my own life. Every step I take has been taken in accordance with God’s will. I used to spend hours wishing I could undo moments of my life, take back things I’ve said or say things I never had the chance to. Now I look back on it all and realize that each part of my life, my successes and my failures brought me to where I am now. I can honestly say there’s only really 2 things I would change if I had to redo my life, and I’m working on letting go of those 2 things.

So, what’s the point in this post? I’m not really sure. I just wrote what was on my heart… maybe it will help you or you can relate in some way, maybe not. Regardless, just writing this all out has made things clearer to me and clarity is something I really desire. I encourage you though, to take a step with me, take a leap with me and let go of those “I wish I had” ‘s. Though sometimes we can’t understand what it is, God always has a plan.

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” – Romans 8:28

Blessings,

-Paige

Mr. Smith was a pilot and a friend of our family. A few years before 9/11 two devastating things happened to him. First, he got a brain tumor and was told he could no longer be a pilot and secondly he and his wife split up. He was not a close friend of our family so I don’t know how much this news effected him, but I can only imagine the devastation and unimaginable pain this man was going through. Shortly after these events he moved out west and began to teach at a pilot’s school, training young men and women how to fly a plane. At one point Mr. Smith got a few Islamic people who acted strangely, they said they cared most about learning how to take-off, but not land. After numerous counts of suspicious behavior, Mr. Smith called the FBI and notified them of the men. At first the FBI didn’t believe him, but after further investigation these men were caught and put behind bars. Most people don’t know that a 5th plane was supposed to crash on that day patriotism spread across America like wild fire. Mr. Smith’s students were supposed to be the pilots of that plane, but because 1 man, 1 person stood up and said something wasn’t right- he saved hundreds of lives. On the flip side, can you imagine if he hadn’t said anything? If he was afraid of being criticized or didn’t want to stand out and stand up for what he believed? What if he was too afraid of failure to pursue getting FBI investigation?

One voice, one action, one person can make all the difference. Will you speak out?

“Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be men of courage; be strong.” 1 Corinthians 16:13

To God be the Glory,

Paige

P.S. Wow, I can’t believe this is my 50th post!

To say I was stunned would be an understatement. Some people would think it creepy, but it wasn’t. There was no playful or flirtatious look in the man’s eyes, he genuinely wanted to know about my trip.  As I replay the scene in my head for the millionth time, I once again wonder how he knew I was going to the DR? I’m certain he must have heard me mention it to one of my co-workers or bosses at one point or another, but when exactly? If he heard me then, what else does he know about me? What else do others know about me?

Now I know that all sounds so weird and slightly horrifying, but think about it. There are most always people listening. What are you saying about yourself? Others? If someone you didn’t know was listening, would they get the right impression of you?

I’m very ‘lucky’, (I put lucky in quotations for lack of a better word..  To be honest, I don’t even believe in luck I am certain that God ordains absolutely everything.)  this man heard me say something good, but what about all the not so great things I’ve said… What people have heard them and what impression do they have of me? I know from now on I’m going to be even more careful watching what I say, who knows who could be listening? And even if I’m certain no one is.. if I’d care if someone was, should I be saying it at all?

I’m reminded of an old song that many children still sing in Sunday school. It goes, “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine…” I’m sure you know the rest, but the point is… Is your light shining, always?

“In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.” – Matthew 5:16

To God be the Glory,

-Paige

This past Sunday I had the joy of meeting up with another girl who went on the DR trip, only the second team- not the first. We had met up earlier and shared our experiences, but I had asked if we could meet up again because I just needed to talk to her. She understood my severely longings to return perhaps more than anyone else. As we sipped our coffee and sat together I began to reveal to her just how hard it was for me to adjust back to the American living. She too confessed she had trouble as well, but she was finding comfort in the God’s word. I nodded, not really sure I understood how. Don’t get me wrong, I had opened the Bible every day 2 weeks after we returned, but somehow… I still felt something was missing. This past week I had begun to get frustrated and gave up. I guess I needed to wallow in a little self pity before God revealed it all to me. My friend explained that the reason she missed the DR so much was because God was literally EVERYWHERE. I know, I know, He’s omnipresent so DUH He’s everywhere, but in the DR this is much more evident. People there are just searching for ways to love on others, seeking God with a reckless abandonment, praying with a purpose. We both missed that the most. My friend however took reading the Bible differently then I did. I’d been reading the Bible searching for answers- which believe me, it has tons, but to her… reading the Bible was seeking God, spending legit time with Him and allowing Him to reveal Himself to her in any and every way. I sat there floored. I had been like that kid who opens a literature book and skims through, searching for the answers to his homework questions and missing the beauty of the book. I’d read the Bible searching for answers in my own life, not seeking to really know God.

Now, as I sit here typing I can say I’m happy. I know God isn’t sending me back to the DR yet, and I’m okay with that. He’s got something magnificent planned for me here even though it was hard to see before. God works in mysterious ways, and I find myself learning from my DR experiences even a month later. I pray that you all won’t make the same mistake as me, searching the Bible for answers to the questions of life and missing out on the beauty of Christ. I wish I could go back in time to when I stopped reading the Bible to know Him and started looking for answers, but then again- God allows everything to happen for a reason.

In Christ Alone,

Paige

So. As for the re-designing… I’m going to be switching things around a bit, so if something isn’t working for you please let me know! I’m trying to add my poetry / stories, an about me section and a contact me section.  Hopefully this will be up and running smoothly by February!! I’ve also got some exciting decisions I’ve made to share

I’ll never forget the first time I saw her. It was in La Esperanza, one of the poorest areas in the Dominican Republic. We were going there for 2 hours to teach a bible lesson and then just play with the kids. After finishing the lesson (held inside a small tin church), we went outside where a new church was being built. The walls were only about 8 feet high so we played games with the kids out there. She was quietly sitting in a circle with a bunch of rowdy kids playing pato, pato, ganso (or as we say it in English, duck, duck, goose). All the other kids were hollering and jumping about, hoping to be picked next, but not her. She sat a little farther apart from everyone else and just observed. She looked to be 5 (I would later get this assumption confirmed) and there was nothing extremely different about her that I noticed, excluding her quiet demeanor. She had tons of tiny braids that fell around her head, the white beads at the end falling just below her chin. I don’t remember observing her clothes; I believe I was too captivated by her eyes. To be honest, nothing I can write will be able to properly describe them. They seemed to contain the child-like innocence that every kid has, but beyond that there was wisdom and knowledge of things no kid of 5 should ever have. I know that statement sounds like an oxymoron, how can someone be filled with innocence and yet have knowledge of so much evil? But yet- she was. I had no doubt in my mind that she had seen things in her 5 years that I would only read about in my whole lifetime.

I walked over to her and sat down quietly, not wanting to disturb her seemingly intent interest in the game. As I placed myself beside her, she leaned towards me and gazed into my eyes, hers sparkling like the ocean during a sunrise. She flashed me a smile and then went back to watching the game. After a moment of silence between us I leaned over and whispered in Spanish, “What’s your name?” She whispered gently back to me, “Veronica.” I repeated back to her, “Veronica” making sure I had gotten her name correct. She nodded and then continued to watch the kids run around screaming. I waited a moment for her to ask my name, unsure of why she hadn’t. All the kids generally would ask your name before you got the chance to ask theirs, but Veronica? She didn’t. When I realized she wasn’t going to ask me, I once again leaned towards her and said, “Mi nombre es Paige,” (my name is Paige). Like before, she nodded at me and went back to watching the game. Her indifference at what I had just said confused me. Why was she so intent on observing silly game such as duck, duck, goose when nobody ever picked her (it was as if she didn’t exist) and yet learning my name didn’t matter? It was as if she already knew. I know this all sounds a bit prideful, but you have to understand that all the kids down there were desperate to speak with the “Americanos,” and then to have a kid not care at all was quite bewildering.

When I realized she didn’t want to be engaged in conversation, I gave up and walked away to play with some of the other children, my mind, however, never left her. As the remaining hour passed by, I kept my eye on her. When the game stopped Veronica stood up and leaned against the wall by herself. Any other kid there would’ve been upset that no one was paying him or her any notice, but Veronica? She wasn’t. She simply stood there, watching the kids per usual. The hour passed quickly and soon it was time for us to go. Our group began to shuffle out of the partially built church and begin the walk through the village to the bus. Kids swarmed all around us, desperate to spend those last few minutes with us before our departure. As I stepped out of the church, I felt a little hand slip into mine. Looking down, I once more gazed into Veronica’s sparkling eyes. She didn’t say anything, neither did I, we just walked. Soon, two other children came rushing over to me fighting over who would hold my other hand. Both of them grasped my hand, meanwhile attempting to shove the other away from me. This persisted throughout the whole walk from the church to the bus, but neither of them ever touched Veronica. At one point however, Veronica stopped us and had me lean down. She pointed towards the house directly to our left and whispered in Spanish, “That’s my house.” It was just like every other tin shack there with dirt floors and barbed wire fencing all around. Then without another word she tugged on my hand for us to continue walking. When we reached the bus, Veronica let go of my hand in unison with the other two girls. I hugged the two squabble-ers and then turned towards Veronica. Kneeling on the ground, I whispered to her in Spanish, “I’ll be back tomorrow.” She nodded at me and I was certain she understood what I said. I gave her a quick hug, and then she slipped away from my embrace and began to skip back in the direction we had just come. As she rounded the corner out of my view, I began to focus my thoughts on getting back to Las Colinas II (where we were staying) and getting ready for dinner and church that night.

The next day when we arrived at La Esperanza immediately Veronica and I found each other. Pretty much the whole two hours there I spent with her, holding her hand or giving her a piggyback ride. The only time we really talked was when I asked her in Spanish how she was doing and she responded with, “bien” or good. To me, it felt like I was disturbing her peace, so I vowed myself to silence after that.  When it was time to leave a truck pulled up to take us back to where we were staying. Like the day before, I leaned down and hugged her goodbye. I repeated once again that I would be back the next day, (not knowing that it would actually be two days before we returned). She nodded and we embraced, then she disappeared in the crowd of kids trying to crawl onto the truck.

We almost didn’t come that last time, but I praise God we did. You see, the second time we came the number of kids doubled from the first time. Along with a larger size, their rowdiness seemed to increase with shards of pottery being thrown about a bit more recklessly then before. Older kids had come too, a group of guys stood all around the inside of the new church walls making sexual comments in Spanish about the ladies in our group. This final time that we came was unlike either of the previous two. We were told not to bring anything, no cameras, gifts, bracelets, etc. They were afraid we might get mobbed by the kids. I spoke with a few of the leaders and explained how I was close to one girl there and asked if it might be possible for me to bring a bracelet in my pocket. I told them that if everything went well, I would like to give Veronica the gift right before we left, I would make sure no other kids saw me. Much to my surprise, I was given consent.

Most all the guys were asked to come and we had such a large group that we ended up taking two truckloads of people there.  When we arrived, there were only fifteen or so kids waiting, nowhere near the uncountable number we had two days prior. Things started off slowly, and my heart was uneasy. I glanced at each of the kids, my dismay growing each time I realized that the kid I was looking at was not Veronica. More kids showed up, along with the second truckload of people, but still no Veronica. I sat down on the ground, frustrated with God. How could He not have her be here? I looked around me and noticed a small boy not more than 3 feet away from me. He had bags under his eyes, cuts and scratches all up his arms, bruises coating his legs. One of my friends had played with this boy on the first day in La Esperanza, but today his attitude was much different. Instead of the wild jumping, kicking, and playful biting, he sat on a piece of wood refusing to make eye contact with anyone. I prayed over him and attempted to talk to him, but he just ignored, as if I wasn’t there. Even more annoyed, I got up and walked away. As I was walking across the church, I suddenly felt a tug on my arm. Looking down, I saw her. Tears filled her eyes and she tugged on my hand, beckoning me to lean down. She whispered something in my ear that I didn’t understand. I asked her to repeat and she did, but to no avail- I didn’t understand. Picking her up, I found our translator and once more asked Veronica to repeat what she had said to me. After a moment, the translator nodded and turned to me, “She said she was looking for you and couldn’t find you.” My heart broke. The fact that this child might cry over not being able to see me was so touching. I asked the translator to tell Veronica that I too was looking for her and was dismayed at my inability to find her. Veronica squeezed my hand and smiled at me as the woman repeated what I had just said in Spanish.

I walked away, holding Veronica close to me trying to ignore the nagging thought of leaving. I knew this was my last day in La Esperanza and that I would have to tell Veronica of this too. Tears filling my eyes, I explained to her that the next day I was going far, far away back to the United States and I was very sad. I then told her that this was the last time we would see each other, but at this she vehemently shook her head and then pointed towards the sky.” Heaven,” I murmured quietly in English and she nodded yes.

At just that moment a little boy ran up to us, nearly colliding with my leg. He looked at me, then fixed his gaze completely on Veronica and screamed, “PRINCESS”. In English, I asked Veronica if she was a princess. She smiled shyly and nodded yes to me. I laughed to myself, this little girl was in tattered clothes and probably hadn’t eaten in a while, but yet she definitely was a princess in God’s eyes and I think she knew it. Not ready to ask her more about God, I spoke in Spanish asking how old she was. She responded with, “Cinco” (meaning 5.) I then followed up with the question of when her birthday is, to which I got the response of, “enero diez” (January  10^th). I held her in silence for a few minutes, not sure of what else to talk to her about with my limited knowledge of Spanish.

After a few moments of silence, one of my friends came up to me. She told me that there was a little boy she was worried about and she wanted me to see him. I walked back across the church with her to where I had been sitting earlier that hour. There lay a little boy squirming around in the dirt, the same little boy I had prayed over.  Veronica still in my arms, my friend and I discussed what could be wrong with him, he seemed almost possessed. Mid sentence, she stopped me. Pointing to Veronica, my friend said, “She seems as if she understands exactly what we’re talking about.” We both gazed at Veronica for a moment, and she looked back at us. Finally, gathering the courage I asked her in English if the little boy was okay. She shook her head. I asked her if she knew where the boy was being taken because during our conversation another child barely older than the sick boy picked him up and carried him away. Veronica again shook her head. I then asked her if she understood what I was saying, and to my astonishment she nodded her head yes. My friend and I stood there for a moment, stunned. I then carried her off, wanting to talk to her more in private. Not believing what had just happened, I again questioned Veronica in English. I asked her what her favorite color was, if she liked green or blue. Continuing to shock me, she responded in perfect English, “I really like the color green.” I held her closer, my heart beating fast. I knew I only had about ½ an hour left with her. I needed to speak with her more. Mind racing, I quickly asked her if she knew God to which she responded, “Jesus is my Savior.” Tears beginning to stream down my face, I tried to think of something else to say. Half of me wanted to ask her every question imaginable, but part of me also wanted to just stand there enjoying the silence. I picked the later and regretted when not more than two minutes later a little girl came running up. She reached up, tapped Veronica on the foot and then ran out of the church. Veronica immediately wiggled free from my grip, jumped to the ground and ran off, following the girl without saying a single word. I desperately called after her, but there was no response, not even the turn of her head. Tears of surprise quickly turned into tears of sorrow. Bitterness welled up inside of me, like a jack in the box ready to pop. How could God not let me say goodbye? How come I didn’t get a chance to talk to her more, to give her my bracelet? Why was this so unfair? I walked around the church, avoiding talking to members from my group asking me about why I was crying. I didn’t want to talk to them now, I wanted Veronica back.

I began to ask numerous groups of kids in Spanish where Veronica was, but I always got the same answer. “Veronica? We don’t know a Veronica.” It confused me, La Esperanza wasn’t that big of a village, if every kid didn’t know each other at least SOME of the kids should know who she was. She had even pointed out to me where she lived. I asked two of the teens that were our guides, one of them was from La Esperanza and the other just visited there a lot because his dad was a pastor. Their answer was the same as the kids though, no Veronica lives here. I took a few of the kids aside and pointed towards her house which you could just see a little bit beyond the church, but my attempts to learn anything about her were futile. The kids merely shook their heads and said no, she didn’t live there then they pointed to some other kid that they claimed did. I gave up. Standing in a corner, tears began to stream down my face.  Our ride arrived, ready to pick up the first group of people, but I resisted. I wanted to stay for the second ride because there was a chance that maybe, just maybe Veronica would come back. I was wrong. The truck left with the first load of people, then came back for myself and a few others. Saddened, I began to climb onto the truck. As I looked back one last time, I saw her standing about 30 feet away. I quickly jumped off the truck and screamed her name, running towards her. She hesitated for a moment, then came running towards me. Despite the piles of children nearby trying to climb on the truck, I pulled the bracelet out of my pocket. She lifted her wrist towards me and I tied it on. A group of girls nearby watched me, but with no interest. They seemed to look right through me as if I was just another one of them, not some American giving out a gift. I embraced Veronica tightly and whispered “te amo, te amo” repeatedly in her ear. She responded to me with five words. “Thank you, I love you.” I heard my name being called, so I gave her one last squeeze and ran for the truck. As I climbed in, I looked back and saw her waving and blowing me a kiss. Not one of the kids seemed to notice her, or the bracelet tied around her wrist.

As I look back, I notice more and more things that stand out about her, but one thing above all bothers me. Out of the hundreds of pictures taken by approximately 15 different people at La Esperanza, none of them have Veronica. I’ve searched and searched, but only find more disappointment. Nobody seems to know she existed. But me? I do.

It’s hard for me to explain to you all that I learned and saw, but I will do my best in the next few posts. I just wanted to quick pop in and tell you all thanks because I don’t have time to write a full post right now. I also encourage you pray and see if maybe God’s calling you to take a leap of faith and go to another country, helping those who aren’t as materially blessed.

I love you all and can’t wait to share my journey with you.

In His name,

Paige

P.S. Happy New Years to you all Hope it was absolutely fantastic!

I would like to ask all who are reading to be praying for not only me, but our team of 30. We will be arriving in the Dominican Republic on the 28th and returning home on the 6th of January. As well, I would greatly appreciate it if you prayed for the people we cross paths with along our journey, from people in the airport to the natives of the Dominican Republic.

Thank you all for supporting me, both monetarily and spiritually. I can’t wait to fill you guys in with how God moved in my heart and the hearts of others. I’ll be trying to keep a daily or bi-daily journal so that I can recall events with more clarity. You’re all in my prayers.

Blessings,

Paige

It started in mid November, 2010, I watched as people’s Facebook relationship statuses changed almost as frequently as Twitter’s Top trending list. I watched and helped as they battled with feeling lonely, rejected and unwanted like a bruised apple in a grocery store. Then I saw them as they began to heal, or even cover up their wounds and immediately jump back into the dating game again. Although I’d only ever “dated” 3 guys, I came to realize my technique with relating to the opposite sex wasn’t too great either. I had absolutely no clue what I really wanted or what I was doing. I had expectations for perfection. When I first liked a guy, I believed they had it all, but then reality would hit and leave me confused. It was in August that I’d come out of that 3rd relationship and as I analyzed it in November I realized it was a relationship I didn’t want to repeat. There were so many things wrong with it- in fact, there were very things you could say that were right about it.

All through the rest of November and most of December I continued to think and pray about high school dating in my life. By December 24th, 2010 at 10:07pm, I was ready to make a commitment. I was far too immature, clueless and unprepared for a relationship. I needed to take a year and promise both myself and God that I would not enter into a relationship, that way I could find out what I was lacking in my dating and knowledge and more importantly, I could draw ever nearer to God without having the idea or actuality of a boyfriend distracting me.

When everyone first found out, nobody believed I could do it. People said I was foolish to make a promise to God because my oath was filled with empty words. I’ll be honest, when everyone told me that- it stung. People, remember the power of your words. Although frankly. I can’t fully blame them, I wasn’t too sure I could do it myself either, I liked guys too much. There were times when I was so close to stopping and giving up my oath with God for a boy, but in those moments I remembered everyone’s faithlessness in me and I carried on. (So I guess I am slightly thankful for the disbelief.)

Despite my refusing to date guys, I still made the mistake of getting too close to a few. I led them on to believe we could be something then, and even though they knew about my Y.O.S. (year of singleness), I still hurt them both. Looking back now, I see that my dating would’ve been haphazard, but at the time it was all I wanted. I was confused why neither of them would wait the year out for me- but I get it now. I was like the lottery, not worth the price you have to pay for a chance at the end goal.

As the end of my year of singleness neared, I became increasingly glad I had decided to partake on this journey, however one thing still bothered me. I’d gone through all this and been saved from some short lasting relationships, but I hadn’t really learned anything. No matter what way I tried to look at it, nothing really stood out to me as some life changing lesson. Maybe I was trying too hard, or maybe God knew my heart wasn’t ready for what God was teaching me. I don’t really know, but whatever it was, it was certainly worth the wait.

4 hours before my 8760 hours of singleness were up, He spoke. I’d heard the message hundreds of times from speakers, pastors, adults- you name it, but somehow this time it struck home. God just has a way of presenting things to us that far surpasses any words from man.

All along I was subconsciously looking to place a boyfriend on a pedestal beside God in my heart. I had wanted and searched for a guy who would love me at all times, but wouldn’t smoother me, I’d still get freedom. A guy I could really know, but there would always be a mystery about him. Someone who would tell me the right way to go in life, but would forgive me when I messed up and ignored his advice. My list could go on and one… but really the point is this. My desires weren’t for a boyfriend, but a deeper and more intimate relationship with the Almighty God. Check out these verses which show how God fulfills everything I was searching for;

unconditional love – john 3:16, isaiah 43:4

freedom – galatians 5:13

being able to know them – 2 peter 3:18

mysterious – deuteronomy 29:29, jeremiah 29:11

guidance – psalms 32:8, isaiah 30:21

forgiveness – daniel 9:9, psalm 103:12

As I write this, I’m reminded of a Remedy Drive song that says this,

“All along I was looking for something else
You’re something else
All along I was looking for something more
You’re so much more
I finally found what I could never see before
You’ve always been the one that I was looking for”

The truth of these lyrics hits home for me. I became so entangled in the lies of this world, when all along what I was looking for wasn’t to be found in the world, but in God. Although I’ve been a believer in Christ for many years, this year God has taught me something that’s drawn me closer to Him, closer than I’ve ever been before. God is the only one who will ever be able to satisfy the longing in my heart. If it’s in His will for me to enter in to a relationship with a guy in the future, then God will ordain it, but for now I’m not worrying myself with the matters of the heart.

If you’ve actually read all of this, let me say- I’m quite impressed, I’d love to read your thoughts on this, so please comment! I enjoy writing blog posts not so much for my readers, but to put out what I’ve learned so I can really meditate on it. I feel that when I’m writing, I’m most focused. If I happen to impact one person with my writings in my life time, then I’ve succeeded. I’ll leave you with one last verse found in Song of Solomon.

“Daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you

by the gazelles and by the does of the field:

Do not arouse or awaken love

until it so desires.” (2:7)

Merry Christmas & God Bless

-Paige

P.S. Sorry this wasn’t really a Christmas-y post at all, but this is what God’s laid on my heart recently.