A woman walked across the street that morning, the same day that we drove along the hem of eternity outside of Abilene, Texas. She walked up to me tentatively and asked my name.
Where had she come from?
Was she selling something?

She asked me if I was a Christian and when I said yes, she responded with, “Yes, I thought so. As I sat in my car over there, I could see a light around you.”

This was not what I was expecting. She had gotten out of her car parked at her place of employment because God had something to say to me.

She asked me two questions, gave me two Scriptures, left me with a testimony of what God was doing in her life. And then she walked back across the street, got into the car where God had spoken to her, and drove off.

I do not doubt that God sent her over to me. He loves you so much, she told me. And I knew He did and does…but it was a reminder that He sees me.

I went away at the end of January, retreated to a place of solitude and silence. I went away to die. I needed to die so I could live. There were vestiges of plans and dreams and prayers that needed to be crucified fully, mourned and buried. It was time to lay some things down.

While I was there - three nights, four days, He spoke.
And it didn’t hit me until very recently that most of the time we were there together - just He and I - that He was answering the two questions the woman posed to me weeks earlier.

Stillness invites Him in, the quiet allows Him to be heard.

And after crucifixion comes resurrection. A new life birthed out of the pain and sorrow and brokenness…let it be, Lord. Let it be.