As a preface to my first piece for The Lighthouse Publication, I ‘d like to briefly say I am very humbled and honored to have this opportunity. I was blessed to have my first conversation here on Notes with Alexander and it proved to be the most generous friendship I could ever imagine in a social space. We have so much in common. Love of God, family, music, F1 (fun!), froyo, pizza, *photography, dogs and writing stories. I’m certain there is a lot more! Although I am a professional photographer by trade, much of that slowed down during the pandemic and I took to writing with the heavy burden of grief. The beauty of looking back to see the journey so clearly now, the plans He has for us… is just wow! If you had told me four years ago that I would be here? I’d have said, “absolutely no way.” But He made a way. He found me in my darkest hour.
Alexander, you were part of my story before I knew it. I pray continued light over this endeavor together with
, anddeb ox
Staring through a colorful liquid layer of polarized glass, my fingers are working the keys through unseen interloping manic highways of frequency bands, data transmissions, a network of networks, breaking down messages exchanged with data protocols, all reassembling on their landing strips, retrieving specific information stored on remote servers.
This story is coming to you through technological, highly detailed magic.
My intricately woven Substack community has come to me, and I to them, through a spiritual highway that can only be explained by the work of His hands. Not mine.
In 1992 our seven year marriage was struggling. Almost every day our five and three year old played with my best friend’s children a few blocks away. As we sat on our porches sharing stories, I discovered she had a great belief in God, much of which came from a realization that there was more to life than going it alone. She had lived untamed during her college years and deeply lamented her upbringing with an alcoholic parent. Bad choices gave her immense grief and deep mourning.
Her love of God was evident in her smile. I confessed my marriage was struggling.
I will never forget the very first thing she told me. “Do you know who are the hardest people to reach for God?” I felt a bit uncomfortable, “who?”
“Good people.”
“Good people don’t need God.”
I thought about that long and hard and began to talk to my husband about the possibility of going to church. Were we too good for that? I was alone all the time with the kids, he was alone working “unGodly” hours.
Our good wasn’t good enough.
My friend was a bit hyper, and I’ll admit it almost kept me from going. Long story short, we eventually went to a Bible study at her home. The first evening we met six other couples. All struggling. As we chatted and introduced ourselves my husband realized that the pastor’s wife was actually his cousin. They had spent time together as young kids during a few large family reunions in Oklahoma, but never stayed in touch. We ended up in the marriage group for a year and began to attend church. It was a sweet fellowship church at the base of our foothills in Southern California, where we made great friends and enjoyed years of positive community. My John would play his bass on worship team and I would sing extremely poorly in the front row next to my best friend, her husband playing drums. When she died from cancer, at the age of 49, I profoundly realized she had been a part of my unique story from the day I was born.
That’s how His plan works for us. Although the years are always going to be bumpy…, “with” God there is hope for better days. With God, there is recognizable beauty and sincere gratitude for what He has given us. Our life.
Awe of Creation. Earth, sea, sky.
Surely if He is there, He is everywhere.
Awe of the coincidence I see clearly as His hand on the keys.
I never felt like I didn’t see the wonder of nature from a very young age. With God, what seemed overwhelming to my heart, made so much more sense. It sealed the magic of the universe. The child within me.
Growing up in a non-religious home, a wide variety of music played from the old stereo. I had no idea what worship music was, but my head was full of music. I lived in dance classes and studied to classical music. Tears have streamed down my face to wordless symphonies. Music has forever moved my heart. So why not God? Or was He always there in the details, the pounding of my heart? brushed into the art? woven into the dance?
I have walked into huge cathedrals, built by masters of nothing but the gifts within them, heard voices singing way up in the gallows and cried.
Was this the God of everywhere? In the midst of ocean spray, the fluttering feathers of birdsong and breath of my sigh?
Ubiquitous God. You climb the gallows, lend instrument to voice, wire reason in the builder, heighten our senses, give us hands to paint, problems to solve, tears to hope and springs in our feet. You run with us, every race we have ever ran, from first steps to last and all the races between. You sit with us in our deepest valleys and when we hear you, like a Good Father, you guide us to the summit.
Was I too “good?” “too bad?”
Was this well mannered, rule following girl unable to recognize how much I needed God? With Him, I have grown into the person I was meant to be. A little wild, a lot creative, people lover, bird saver, dog rescuer, wannabee comedian, freedom fighter and a shockingly forgiving artsy-fartsy grownup…
Keeping the child within me alive.
It’s not complicated.
He made me, and you, to be MORE than good or bad. More than a label. With Him, I am trusting, hopeful, faithful, kind and loving. Without Him I am reaching for worldly opinions, untethered from a Good Anchor, too quick to speak.
I imagine a world where we all desire to live for the Kingdom of Heaven and not for the principalities of this earth.
Where we find the highway of God in all the details…
You have searched me, Lord,
and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue
you, Lord, know it completely.
- Psalm 139:1-4
*images in this piece are from my personal archive :)
The more I turn to Him and away from the pettiness of every day life, the greater the peace. Beautiful essay, Deborah. It was a hectic day and I needed to read this.
Thank you so much for that intro, so kind! And love this post!