When Art Mirrors Life

 

Yesterday, I saw my faith being shaken. As I was about to embark onto a ferry to Victoria and collect hundreds of dollars in misprints- of my book.

My past wounds were being exposed to the salty ocean and the sting of my errors, in okaying the wrong file to the printers, seemed too overwhelming. I felt the enemy trying to get a stronghold over me. His caustic words were upon me, like stinging nettles upon my bare skin, he whispered in my ear….you are not worthy of anyone’s love.

I had to find a spot, where my tears would not be seen. Walking up the stairs, I leaned over the railing of the ferry and took a deep breathe in.

Folding my hands together in prayer, I allowed the light to slowly engulf me. I stood my ground and reminded myself…whom shall I fear?

I reminded myself that God not only loves me, but all my trust is in him.

The mistake I had made, was a human error, not to be confused with the enemy- who I was giving too much credit for.

What had occurred in the first print of my book was to serve a better purpose.

The day of my PFO closure on my heart, I had made the mistake of bringing my cell phone with me.

I knew better. The last time I was in hospital- after my stroke- I took my cell and changed every password I held within my device. I promised myself, I would not make that mistake again!

However, my anxiety grew the morning of my surgery and when I typed my okay for the printers to print off the first copies of my book…I gave consent to the wrong file!

I tried, but it was too late, to stop the printing of the first fifty copies.

In typing this…I breathe a sigh of relief that it was not 500 copies!

After many tears shed, and me calling myself unkind names – due to my error, I set out to share with those who were interested in buying the first edition of Under the Sitka Tree.

I was honest and accountable, for what was my error- not at all the printers.

To my surprize and delight, everyone who has ordered a polished edition, also requested a misprint.

After speaking with Lindsey Cocking from Island Blue Print Co. Ltd, he assured me it happens often when the first run of the book, needs revising. Lindsay also shared how these ones are sold as “Advanced Readers Copy” and it was then I decided to slash the price of these paperbacks to ½ off. The next run will be sold at original cost of $20 and these misprints are now only $10.

Being an avid researcher, I decided to read about other instances, where something has happened to the first copy of a book being printed. The most brilliant example I found, was a woman reading her romance novel, discovered inserted within her book, a few pages of a Stephen King novel! Now, that is some transition and one that made me feel relieved that I am not alone.

By the time the ferry docked in Swartz Bay, I was feeling lighter, as I was determined to rise from the dark ashes that once bound me to the Island.

Driving off the ramp and onto the highway, I reflected on the person now returning eight months later.

I thought of all I have become as a Christian writer, due to everything I have endured.

When in 2000, I set out to write my first novel, I did not plan on composing a story of happily ever afters. From the beginning, I knew God’s purpose for me was to take every bit of my pain, my sorrows and my losses, in order to create characters that were likable, relatable and even loathed.

In my novel, there is purpose in the pain. The Lord took the battle scarred heart of mine and in my own research of my characters, I was shown the depths of each one. As I wrote, I worked on my novel knowing the presence of the enemy  was often near, for he was trying to deter me. Yet what God has done in me, fills me with his light and love. In Him, I see hope arise.

One day, as I read my bible, I read a sidebar story that resonated deep within me…

In the shop of a blacksmith, there are three types of tools.

There are tools on the junkpile: outdated, broken, dull and rusty.

There are tools on the anvil: melted down, molten hot, moldable, changeable.

There are tools of usefulness: sharpened, primed, and defined.

They lie ready in the blacksmiths tool chest, available to their master, fulfilling their calling.

We are all somewhere in the blacksmith’s tool chest. We are either on the scrap pile, on the anvil, in the Master’s hands, or in the tool chest. From the shelves to the workbench , from the water to the fire, I am sure you will see yourself.  ~ Max Lucado

I know, in my own tool box and connected to my grief, there are many bent and misshapen tools.  This is due to an aching void that remains, where there has been a loss of control and a struggle for others to see…who I really am. 

Often though in fighting to just let go, I have lost myself in the transition and I am pulled back- into the throes of an addicted family, where our roots are scarred...but still hold threads of connections. 

As the years of my writing has carried me throughout various life chapters, I never have wanted to be a writer who projects being perfect. If anything the things within, are not secrets I am holding unto. In being authentic, I name my darkness, yet refuse to let it claim me. There is a power coursing through my veins when I look into the distance for the lighthouse…when I have lost my way. My hope is that others will still see that light shining within me.

Extending my hands, I reach out for the grace that anchors me, when the storms prove too much.

After departing the ferry and driving along the Pat Bay Highway, I knew where my first stop would be.

Pulling over by the sign that states: “Welcome to Victoria,” I parked at the spot where I lived (on and off) in my car for 7 ½ months. This area, I arrived at, was to express my gratitude for all I had been brought through. As I closed my eyes, I gave thanks to God for how far I truly have come….since those nights of despair.

I allowed myself only a short visit, as I no longer had a right to linger...in the past.

Next, I went and paid for my 2 boxes of first edition books. I don’t like to always refer to them as misprints, because I have learned a valuable and costly lesson from this!

I certainly will never forget this process! I have worked diligently with my formatter, Leon Oldale, to ensure the next file I okay to send, is the correct one! 

Another thing I discovered about books that have had this happened… some are considered a worthwhile investment.

A rare first edition of a “Harry Potter” book featuring a misspelled title, fetched  $90,000 at an auction.

Now, I am not claiming to be J.K. Rowling…however, if your going to dream…it may as well be big! 😊

Later on in my visit to the Island, I spent my afternoon seeking some of my brothers and sisters in Christ.

I shared with them some of the journey of Under the Sitka Tree. 

How I  was inspired to write about indifference, as it stems from how I have felt. I chose to share about equality in my novel, because I believe in it. How I decided to have a character in my novel, have the same weaknesses I have, because I know of the shame associated with it.

I then talked about how I missed attending church and listening to the sermons. We talked about some of the ones that have stayed with me. I shared how I found it interesting that as a church attendee, when there was a bulletin announcing pornography, to be discussed…the following Sunday- attendance was down. The truth is, more needed to be said and shared about addictions, of all kinds. 

The broken, were the ones Jesus liked to keep company with. 

I believe because no one wants to be judged, branded and stigmatized, there was prior to the pandemic, a reluctance to put on display in church, those addictions that are being sought out in the dark.  

I know it's also because no one wants to be signaled out and labeled. 

Throughout the journey of my novel that took me over two decades to complete and in print, there were chapters of sin and shame. I experienced betrayal on horrible levels of heartache, while I suffered my greatest loss, in the death of my only child. I spent many nights of solitude struggling, therefore I would invite Jesus in...to guide my way.

The word says:

For the spirit of heaviness

Put on the garment of praise

That's how we fight our battles

~ “Surrounded” by Michael W. Smith

After dropping off some copies of my books, I felt a pull towards a place that holds painful memories. After praying, I decided to venture into territory, where the soil was tainted- from the night of my attack, back in May 2014.

I grabbed an ice cap and found my way to an address; I truly wish I could forget.

Parking my car in Esquimalt, in front of an apartment building, I did my best to ‘blend in.’ However, with my mirrored sunglasses and blond highlights- I drew a poor comparison to the former Police-detective series (Starsky & Hutch).

I was unsure of my purpose, in stopping at a location, where a crime had occurred, all those years ago.

I honestly did not expect anything to happen, but something drew me to the place where I survived a night of terror.

Taking a sip of my ice cold beverage, suddenly I saw a man emerge. I almost dumped my drink all over me. For my perpetrator had never been caught nor charged with the crimes against me.

In a city where another news story covered the ‘rape culture’ of Victoria, there had been instances where a few bartenders had been guilty of lacing drinks- in order to receive kickbacks.

I now know this is exactly what happened to me, when I was taken against my will and brought to the very apartment building, I was now staking out.

As a man walked down the sidewalk, my anxiety was surmounting. In an instant, I recognized him as the one who had me drugged, kidnapped and sexually assaulted me during one night of terror- I've never completely healed from.

While I have shared openly with readers that I have forgiven the man who added another layer of stain, upon me- who stole from me what was mine – I still felt the need to see if he existed? 

Much like my statement I finally provided Police, it was with purpose I returned here- to reclaim for me/Tonya- what was once lost.

Now, as he continued to walk near my vehicle, something else caught me off guard.

In his hand, he held onto the hand of a child.

In an instance, I saw something different about the man. 

It was a reminder that while it often hurts to revisit a place where you saw only pain… there can be a new perspective.

While I was denied my god given rights that horrible night in 2014, here was this man who I felt justified in seeing as a terrifying villain- holding the hand so tenderly, of a loved one.

In that moment, he was not the monster I had referred to….no, he was stripped of the ugliness and now I simply saw him…as a perfectly- flawed- human being.

Starting my car, I drove off, with tears streaming down my face. My thoughts were flooded with memories and my heart was beating fast. As I drove out of a city, I struggled eight years to survive in, I remember a Counselling session in my support group, where a beautiful Japanese girl had brought a once broken piece of pottery and now it was repaired. 

As I drove back along the highway, the rays of sun burst through the clouds of cobalt. Suddenly, I let all of my emotions out...onto my steering wheel.

The little girl in me, realized there was peace in knowing that despite all of the pain I had endured, no one can ever harm my soul, within!

My next stop saw me go into the local grocery store, to pick up a bouquet of sunflowers.

I then drove out to the local cemetery, to visit the grave of my dearest friends daughter.

I stayed there for awhile, as I had to collect my thoughts, after what had just taken place.

My eyes spotted a pine cone and as I held it in my hand , I thought of the one at my home- from my beloved Sitka spruce tree. That cone represents nearly half of my writer’s life, connected to its roots.

I thought about the lie – the one from the enemy- that tries to convince me that I am unloved. Yet there can be beauty found...even in some of the most difficult places.

For when my mind is at war, riddled with anxious thoughts, I turn to the light and find inner harmony.

I thought about how I am drawn to write about such dark things, with rawness and honesty.

The simple answer is…I want to bring my readers, back into the light and share the joy I have found, in my faith. Not because I am a perfect Christian...no, rather I want to share what I've experienced to say that there is hope despite my own flaws. 

If anything I've learned, as a writer, I know I am part of a bigger group of talented souls- whose ink is dipped in depressions, addictions and struggles.

Novelist Anne Rice grew up steeped in the myth and lore of New Orleans. She didn't find success as a writer until tragedy struck. Rice is said to have fallen into a deep depression after her 5-year-old daughter died from leukemia. She found that her only relief from despair was writing. Her first novel, Interview With a Vampire, was turned into a successful movie, followed by many other tales in The Vampire Chronicles series. Today, this famous depressed writer has a huge cult following. Dr. Thomson notes that though many writers struggle with their work, there are others — such as Rice — for whom writing is a release. 

It can bring pleasure and a sense of peacefulness, through being surrounded by a world of people the writer created, he suggested.

Depression and creativity are thought to go hand in hand, leaving us with an impressive list of famous depressed writers.

Source.

By Madeline R. Vann, MPH Medically Reviewed by Pat F. Bass III, MD, MPH

Reviewed: June 19, 2013

Through it all, I always strive to keep my eyes on the light.

In the Bible (Romans 8:38) Paul writes, “… I am convinced that nothing can separate us from God’s love… neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow - not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below - indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.” The same Lord is Lord of all, and gives richly to all who call on Him, for, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”

My day ended at a beach; I know well. I have walked barefoot along the wet sand, in search of sea glass. I have  sat in my car at 4am, awaiting the sunrise over the rolling waves.

I returned to do a special release of sorts. The first thing I did, was to take a sunflower and place it next to something special, on a brilliant piece of driftwood.

In the placement of the flower, it was my way of releasing what had taken place over the course of my one day, back in Victoria.

To remind myself how it is well within my soul.

To reflect on such a beautiful and powerful reminder that I AM Worthy. The light within…was not to be destroyed.

I then decided to do a unique book release on this beach…

I had brought a card and a clear plastic bag, to protect my novel, from the elements. I signed the book and wrote in the card that instead of a ‘message in a bottle,’ this was a ‘message in a book.’

I then wrapped it up and placed it higher up near the road, as opposed too close to the water- where the incoming tide could possibly wash it away!

It was my way of giving thanks back…to an Island, where I had spent years working on my book, shared in fellowship and found the healing in some places, I truly needed.

As I drove  back to the ferries, to return home, I would encounter a setback to do with my reservation. Soon, I realized it was the enemies way of keeping me from departing onto the open sea…to my new beginnings.

A quick call to friends I consider family, saw their serving hearts help me out of my predicament.

The irony of this, was I had to leave the ferry area, to make a call to them. Turning down a road I thought I had never been down before, I discovered a couple living/sleeping in their Honda civic. Their belongings were crammed in the back seats. 

They were holding onto each other. I just wanted to say to them: This isn’t permanent. You can get out of your situation and find hope...even in the darkest of places.

Turns out, that road they were on...I had travelled plenty of times, during my own bouts of displacement. 

As I completed my call and request from my friends, I prayed again for the couple in front of me.

Ever so grateful for the means to arrive home, I boarded the ferry. By now, my day that had begun at 6am saw me step out onto the ferry deck at dusk. The sea breeze felt so good against my skin! 

As I admired the coral sunset over the ocean, I saw a reflection of myself in one of the windows. Instead of having a sorrowful ending to my story, the light was resettling its way, back into me. 

Once, where the cracks had been, I saw the handiwork of God who is the ink in my pen.

His mercies are multiplied…

In the end, as I continue onward… I understand the flawed, imperfect parts of me...sees my tool chest have various shapes and sizes all within it ~ be a part...of who I am.

by TL Alton 

Living For the World to See…Only Jesus

Throughout the twenty years I have been writing, some people have encouraged me to pen my life story. I am humbled to point out, I have been doing so for the past ten years of posts, on my various blogs.

In sharing, I do not write for a captive audience; rather it’s a release of words buried in the compartments of my mind. Often, after I have uploaded a blog entry, I can almost hear the gasps of those who say: “Did she really just reveal that to the whole world?”

I found this quote... as a response to the above, which sums up my life, my accountability and my sharing of the scars I bare.

“Christians are obligated to speak the truth at all times. As a witness to our integrity, we affirm that we will tell the truth at all times, in keeping with what Jesus taught in the Sermon on the Mount.”

This shirt was on display in the ferry gift shop on my way to see Casting Crowns. In writing to evoke thought and emotion, I wait on Jesus’s promise to renew my strength in times of weakness. My prayers are to be authentic, in what I divulge. If someone reading my life journey, finds hope that points to the Lord, the light of grace is from the one who created me. A perfect reminder In speaking what is true, there is no reason for me to take credit for piercing the darkness, I have walked through. I am merely an imperfect human who is seeking; letting God ignite the shadows and setting my world afire, with a heart for Jesus. The secrets I carried, have been spilled forth onto the pages of the internet. Yet, I am not different from those who walk the corridors of their life story, encased in shame. The women whose daily companion is green-tinted concealer, used to cover the patterns of crimson bruises – her body is a battleground. The pre-teen who walks with arms folded stiffly across her chest, hating a body that betrays unwanted advances. The young boy, whose long-sleeved shirts ablaze in heavy metal logo’s all a distraction; to hide the thick ribbons of scars from where blade has met skin. The older woman whose past merges into the present; a broken olive branch, she awakens in her body that no one desires. “Canyon’s of shame run deep. Gorges of never-ending guilt…. Try as you might to outrun yesterday’s tragedies – their tentacles are longer than your hope. Sometimes your shame is private…sometimes it’s public. Branded by a divorce you didn’t want. Contaminated by a disease you never expected. Marked by a handicap you didn’t create. Whether it’s actually in their eyes or just in your imagination, you have to deal with it – You are marked: a divorcee, an invalid, an orphan, an AIDS patient. Whether private or public, shame is always painful. Unless you get help – the dawn will never come. Take him with you to your canyon of shame. Invite Christ to journey with you. Let him stand beside you as you retell the events of the darkest nights of your Soul. And then listen carefully, He’s speaking: “I don’t judge you guilty.” And watch carefully, as he’s writing a message…not in sand, but on the cross. Not with his hand, but with his blood. His message has two words: “Not guilty.” ‘Blessed are the dirt-poor, nothing-to-give, trapped in a corner, destitute, diseased, Jesus said, for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven.’ ~Matthew 5:6 (Max Lucado version) God says that the more hopeless your circumstance, the more likely your salvation. The greater your cares, the more genuine your prayers. The darker the room, the greater need for light. Healing begins when we do something. Healing begins when we reach out. Healing starts when we take a step.” ~ Max Lucado Last weekend, standing in front of the picture before me at the B & B I stayed at, the image engulfed me by what I saw. The storm clouds hovering over a beached boat summons me to where it all began.  This summer, I met someone. In my desire to be loved after many years of remaining single, I chose to embark on a short journey, where I cast my beliefs into murky waters. As I sat in this man’s boat, he disclosed that despite years of separation, he was still married. While my heart sank, I made the choice to carry on a relationship. Two Christians, who loved Jesus, were two sinners; entangled in a union we had no right to. Does Anybody Hear Her? Casting Crowns On the day afloat upon the open waters, as each of us shared our deepest secrets, there was the presence of those unseen. One represented light and the other darkness. When we made the decision to carry on, I put a wall up around the one who saves and gave an open invitation to the one who preys. There was no need to pressure me into agreeing that this was a great idea. Over the years, my battle with weight and finding solace in food, had me convinced no one would ever love me for who I had become. Therefore, I showered this man with gifts, to show how lucky I was. On the wall of where I stayed at My Inn, were various poignant quotes  My larger purchases included two concert tickets and dinner packages to Casting Crowns in Abbotsford, British Columbia.  I also bought him a ticket to the upcoming For King & Country concert event, on November 2nd. The painful reality became clearer; beyond the gifts, dinners and treating him... I now was feeding another beast – insecurity.  When nothing else but Jesus should have been satisfying my life, I funneled my earnings into a vast black hole of emptiness.  Lately, been down so low My faith seems to come and go Some days, Father, I don't know How did my love grow cold? ~ Prize Worth Fighting For, Jimmy Kimmett The day I boarded the bus onto the ferry, to cross the ocean back to the mainland, various tendrils to the past remained. I carried with me something connected to my only child and the woods where Sitka stands. Due to my solo journey involving numerous means of transportation, the offering I had to give, needed to be carried through to the end of my trip. a gift with a purpose Travelling around with me and this item, was symbolic of me bearing the secret attached to it, for nearly 29 years.   On the evening before the concert, I stayed in and watched the true inspirational story of Brandon Burlsworth, called “Greater.” https://youtu.be/v0Ow6lhvPNk It was just the beginning of filling up my empty well. I prayed over what to do with the extra tickets I had, and it all came in verse: 2 Corinthians 9:6-7 (NIV) Remember this: Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously. Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. on my wall ~ Matthew 25:35  In offering the Casting Crowns Ticket and Dinner Package for free, I broke the bondage attached to my guilt, of purchasing it in the first place. A young man named Roderick sent me a kind-hearted email. He shared how much his mother Susan liked the bands Christian music and how he wished she could see them perform live. Then Roderick shared his favourite Casting Crowns song: “Slow Fade.” He added:  It is his conscience’s song to keep him strong in times of weakness. It reminded him that every compromise is a big deal and not something to take lightly. Since it was an older song by Casting Crowns, I decided to look it up and as the video played, I felt a stream of tears. It is about a married man whose eyes are upon another woman, in lust. This brought me to fold my hands in prayer, for those I needed to release myself from. They were strangers to me. Even though the relationship I had been in was dissolved, the connection to two woman I had never met, needed to be broken by mercy. My heart opened to the wife and the daughter of the man; I had been seeing. I asked for forgiveness of venturing into a relationship with a man I had no right to do so. While in this affair with a married man, I stopped honouring Jesus in what I took part in. “My heart needs a surgeon; my Soul needs a friend.” ~ Cody Carnes On the night of the concert, I met Roderick and Susan at the venue. I was happy to hear that her son had bought a ticket and would be sitting in the seats, amongst the crowd. As Susan and I had dinner together, she spoke fondly of her eleven children. I was surprised, but the next thing she told me, came more of a shock. Within their Christian family, was a daughter…named Shaylah. I sat in awe and wonder of how it was a God connection our daughters shared the same namesake (only difference was Susan’s daughter had an h on the end). She told me about the non-profit missionary work the whole family is involved with ~ Hope For Today.  Susan, Roderick and family ~ Hope for Today Susan gave me some information and passed onto me a CD, which had a personal message from both mother and son. In writing my blog post, I have listened to the music and a song called: The Candle, resonated within me. “Keep the candles burning I pray for me, I will walk by candlelight for I am not the one and only, here tonight.” During our dinner, I knew there was purpose to my presence. I was carrying the extra ticket For King & Country. Behind me, I heard a young lady talk of her upcoming birthday, on November 2nd. This was the same day of the Christian concert. Introducing myself, the two ladies were Danielle and Amy. I gifted Danielle an early birthday present, as I placed the ticket in her hand. Later, through my book website, she would send me a heartfelt message of gratitude for the gifting. Before I left on this adventure of faith to the mainland, I wrote in deep purple lip-liner on my bathroom mirror: Prayers for the musicians. Now, as we all shared in fellowship and food, I sought guidance as to who I should assemble. I first asked Susan, Amy and Danielle, then moved onto a table of such warmth and light. Four beautiful ladies who are part of the African community, kindly let me share about my cultural journey, through my writing. I know three of the lady’s names were Evelyn, Anne and Grace, yet the fourth girl I cannot say. When asked to join the prayer circle for those who would perform, each woman gathered in words of blessings, upon every band member. When two or more gather... Settling into my seat I was amazed that as I let go of everything, God showed up to close doors, while opening others full of promise. Over the years I have attended many events, yet I was not prepared for the deep connection with Jesus that transpired over the evening. This was an impacting show in the power of the Lord’s love. It never felt as if I were in a stadium with throngs of people, rather I had a front seat to a night of worship, with our Creator. When Cody Carnes wife, Kari Jobe joined him onstage, they raised the roof with the lyrics of “Forever.” I felt the music and was jumping up and down, as they delivered a powerful performance. The air was filled with hands outstretched to the heavens full of stars. During the ballads, concert goers- including myself- shone their phone lights. To see the beaming rays, was an indication of the radiance present, in a building full of worship. By the time Casting Crowns appeared, my heart was on fire and I was hungry for the spoken word. The lead singer Mark Hall, infused the audience with Jesus, telling detailed stories of his life as a Youth Pastor. When he broke the personal barriers with his own struggles of Dyslexia and ADHD, the woman next me confided she was video taping Mark’s testimony. She wanted to share with her Autistic son, who was struggling and had given up on himself. I realized everyone around me, was dealing with some kind of battle. I would later meet several people during intermission, who are over comers. A woman, whose fierce meth addiction bound her to the enemy, was now clean and sober 14 years. Told she would never be able to have children; she is now mother to two, thriving boys.  At one point during the concert, it was shared the profits from the evening, would go to benefit Taylor Made Retreat in Portland Oregon. A place of refuge for those seeking treatment is Taylor Made Retreat. In Abbotsford, British Columbia, there is Joshua House - Christian based men’s recovery homes. In reading Richard and Angie Korkowski’s testimonies, I was reminded about accountability and how we as Christians are to speak the truth. They both are members of the Executive at Joshua House. where the Lord makes it possible to be supportive of others, who are struggling. Their Mission Statement is: To help men overcome addiction through Jesus Christ, giving hope and restoring relationships. I had the chance to have a conversation on the telephone with Richard Korkowski. In the time we had, he was able to provide further details about the programs offered and shared that Joshua House received a donation from the concert. Richard spoke about the men of Joshua House, who are part of the set-up, tear down crew for all the Christian concerts in the area and have the opportunity to receive the Lord, at these events. It was amazing to hear how the men have been a part of Praise Fest, Casting Crowns and other crew set-ups, including the upcoming For King & Country concert. Being a part of these Christian experiences, allows these men, to have a chance to hear about God and receive in worship. The costs of operation for Joshua House is over $450,000. The core of the expenses comes from various means of funding and also relies on donations. The recovery program is a valuable lifeline; a place where sin meets saving. This year has seen 89 baptisms take place. I am grateful for the chance to have learned more about the 95 men and dedication of staff, who everyday serve in a way, which is centered on Jesus.  Link to Joshua House:  https://www.yahwehsavesrecovery.ca/ Joshua 1:9  Personally, I know what it is like to watch loved ones battle against their addictions. I also have learned about all facets in forgiveness and releasing myself from the burdens of guilt, connected to another person's scars.  Likewise, I have needed to remember the value of listening, so as to be guided.  When the Lord directs your attention to him, it is important to take notice.  Even if it means standing out in a crowd, when you feel completely alone.  During the interval at the concert, Mark asked for Youth Pastors and others involved in Ministry, to go to a specific area for encouragement and prayer. As a large group gathered, I stood in front of Mark. Before he prayed, Mark asked those who were involved with youth, to put up their hand. I stayed silent. Then he asked those who were involved in Ministry to hold up their hand. Again, I stood quietly. While I am a Christian writer and mental health advocate, I was not there to receive praise. Rather, I simply needed prayer. Afterwards, I had the chance to speak with Nathan. He was part of Mark’s Youth group and is now his PR. I gave him one of my cards that I usually hand out for my book. Yet, it was not meant to be about my novel, instead I wanted to pass along my blog link to this post. Once back on stage, Mark openly shared some of his own health battles, including kidney cancer in 2015 and last year being sidelined, when he needed surgery on his vocal cords. Turning his attention to the Book of James, Mark shared how he is a follower of Jesus and pointed to Him.  Soon after, another gift he was blessed with, was shown to those in the audience. Standing behind an easel set up on stage and drawing upside down, Mark began to sketch with both hands as the band sang, “Who Am I.”  Sitting in awe, I gazed upon the crowd, who were also astounded at the formation of Jesus on the paper. At the end, Mark stood in front of the image he had drawn and added finishing touches.  The significance of Casting Crowns most recent album “Only Jesus,” now has a greater meaning to me of the lyrics and my own path as a writer. My legacy won't be the words I publish...as I look heavenward, I give all the glory to ' the God who saves and takes away'.  There was a moment during the concert, when Megan Garrett stood on the stage. As she sang from a familiar place in such a profound way, the words were as if Jesus was sitting right beside me… in the empty seat. The Change in Me (Condensed lyrics) ~ Casting Crowns https://youtu.be/p8TCZiy5A2A Your spirit is a whispering When all the lies are deafening You speak to the very heart of me And fear cannot remain Your spirit is the light ahead Calling me into the depths And daring me to take a step And let you lead the way Your spirit is a holy flame Burning all the old away Here I am, lord, have your way 'Til all that's left is you Your spirit is my constant friend You're with me to the very end I'll never be alone again You're the change in me. The following day, I sat on a bus with the understanding that I no longer could live for my own agenda. In six years, there had been interactions with others. Even though I remained single, my spirituality did not line up with the beliefs, I vowed I would give my life for. While I thought the shame I carried was private, the truth is Jesus has stood by every sordid mistake, I have ever made. Though there is no one to blame for my choices, Matthew 5:28 reminds me, I am not alone in poor decisions. My whirlwind three-day trip concluded, with a gifting that saw an old chapter come to an end, while new beginnings are to unfold. As I offered someone from my past-a present of transformation- I joined in the reason to celebrate, their own happiness and future. Beautiful is the release, as God shows us what happens, when we surrender. While this is not my story to boast, it is my story to glorify the one I believe in… by T.L. Alton