There have been those moments in my life when I have had an absolute certainty that God had spoken to me. No, it was not an audible voice, but rather a clear and definitive impression that, with time and prayer, became clearer, more definitive, and set my heart at rest as I felt the peace of God ruling and reigning within my being.
If I’ve learned anything over the 40 years of my walk with the Lord, it is that when God speaks, I must obey, and my obedience should be instant, joyful and whole. I confess that when He asked me to write a book, I was neither joyful, nor was my response necessarily instant or wholly obedient. A book? Lord, really? Like the world needs one more book!
What was more difficult to understand was the timing of the request. It came only five months into the grieving process, a grief that had been ignited by deception, betrayal and infidelity. I felt too broken to be of any usefulness to anyone. There were days I could barely get out of bed, much less consider engaging my brain in an activity such as writing a book. To make matters worse, from my perspective, was that He gave me the title, a title I wasn’t all that crazy about, frankly.
Yet, in truth, some of my most insigh ...
