Hello Friend!
I'm excited to say that on this cloudy, rainy, reminiscing-kind of New Year's Eve, a poetry book was born.
(future flowers, whispered war-cries is available on Amazon! Yay!)
a war is waging, and a King is coming.
thus, these poems sing.
they utter war-cries of faith for the one thick in battle.
they whisper teardrops of hope for the aching soul.
and they overflow in dancing, giggling worship because of love.
in stories and colors, emotions and beauties,
they’re an anthology drawing together to testify of the King
through heartfelt moments and
genuine truth
and in free verse and rhyme and behind-the-scenes stories.
an arsenal of indie artists are featured within their pages,
and laughingly, these more than eighty poems sing of joys to come
(like a poem with giraffes).
may every word
stir one’s heart to live for that Kingdom.
(ahh - I hope you so enjoy the poems!!!)
The word that comes to mind now is rest.
There's so much that goes into a book. I had many a night in early December that I lay awake pondering two book releases in one month and had no idea how God would do that.
And even at that moment, He already knew the ending. I just needed to trust and press on, believing.
I think that about 2022 too. At the beginning of the year, He knew every tough situation, every tearful moment, and He had a good plan for them. I sure am glad He doesn't tell us everything at once, 'cause that would have been too much for me... but throughout 12 months, He was faithful every step of the way.
To go further than just 2022... in 2020, I had many of the poems in future flowers, whispered war-cries drafted in a document. In one accidental moment, my water bottle attempted and succeeded to drown my laptop.
In that moment, all the poems were gone. Sure, I could scramble to find most in assorted journals and papers, but there were stories and moments gone, washed like when a wave visits the shore and steals every last shell. (so yes, as I drink water and write here today, my bottle is on the far side of my desk...)
But God.
He knew the ending even then. And amazingly, He restored those poems I'd nearly given up hope for.
So then and now, I hear Him whisper:
rest. trust and press on, believing.
As one of my favorite poems urges,
oh, dear heart of mine, so restlessly
striving to patiently wait,
breathe.
do you believe in your Father,
will He not bring forth a shower?
Dear Friend, rest comes from trust. The poems are a war-cry to fight, to press on, to run for a prize, to sink our shovels deep into soil because there's a treasure, and we are going to find it.
But somehow, there's rest in that too. There's rest because we know the prize is so worth it, and He gives us His strength in our weakness, so we press on but find the sweetest love and rest in that.
Whatever 2023 has, let's trust. Let's run towards the prize. Let's believe. And let's rest because God's got this.
(and let's go read some poetry!!)
The finished book has 85 poems in it! Comment below with a number, and I'll share the title + a fun fact about the poem! Maybe it'll be your new favorite. *wink*
The Kingdom of Heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and rehid. Then out of his joy he goes and sells everything he has and buys that field.- Matthew 13:44
~♥~