Dear Unbridled Tongue, 
Remember that women’s conference?  The one where Jennifer Rothschild was one of the keynote speakers?   Well, that day, I was ecstatic to be there until I am offended.   All because of you, unbridled tongue!

As I sat, at the conference, on the end of a row of seats, one of the volunteers stops to the left of me, and looks down the row I am seated in.  At the time, I was the only one sitting in the row.   She then says to the women, whom she is trying to seat, that this is the disability section.  

I then respond to her letting her know that it is not.  She then turns to the ladies and says something like, “Well, you know what I mean.”  As if I cannot hear her!   Guess she didn’t realize that the devices on my head were cochlear implants and with them I can hear.  every. single. word. she. said.
  
So, as she walks away I begin to tear up.  Unbridled tongue, you have done it again.  I am offended right up in the church.     My mind begins to think on all the other people around me who heard her.   I contemplate leaving but I decide to stay although I am now deflated.  A few minutes later, a group of women come by, and ask if the seats in my row are taken and happily sit with me.  We engage in dialog as if I were as normal as they.  

Because I am!!!

The conference starts and lo and behold the theme is none other than “Yes She Can”.  Basically, Jennifer speaks about being able to do whatever God has purposed you to do and how every one is fully able.  There she stood, on the stage, and little did she know her words were speaking life back into me.

And, sorry to disappoint, but yes, I wish I could’ve found you, unbridled tongue, and flashed the “Yes She Can” card right up in your face. 

But in the end, I am guilty of making assumptions, too.  I am guilty of saying things that may offend someone without thinking them through.  I am guilty of being like you - unbridled tongue. 

So, Father, forgive me for all the offensive words I have spoken unknowingly.  Please help me to think, before I speak, and for my words to be those that strengthen and encourage.   In Jesus Name, Amen.

Tongue tied again,
Liz​

Many years ago, as I desperately struggled with not being able to forgive, part of what allowed me to break free was this truth:
This is how God showed His love for us: God sent His only Son into the world so we might live through Him.  This is the kind of love we are talking about - not that we once upon a time loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as a sacrifice to clear away our sins and the damage they’ve done to our relationship with God. 1 John 4:9&10  MSG

Think about it this way.   So, God knew, before I was ever born, all I would think, do, and say, and yet He still made a way for my sins to be forgiven. 

When I changed the focus off of woe is me to His love for me, I was able to begin releasing  the ‘unforgiveness’ grip on my heart so I could be set free. 

Unforgiveness, 
I need to ask you a question?  Why do you keep coming up in my life?  Huh?  

​Before you even answer, I have something to say to you. 

Here is my letter of resignation.  I am resigning from allowing you to have a grip on any part of me.  As of today, we are done.  I know longer work for you.  I am free.

That last time, unforgiveness, you almost had me.  Who would’ve thought?  Me, living my life for Jesus.  My Rock.  And here you come again.  Masked in the form of a painful storm.   

Oh, even though it hurt.  Even though I hated it.  Even though I felt as if it just wasn’t fair, I refused to live in your land.  The land of unforgiveness.   I’ve visited there before.  Heck, I camped there for years.  I traveled your streets of bitterness, resentment, so many unhealthy ones, daily.  Revisiting the same scenarios in my head.    In the past, you have rocked my world.   At times making me feel as if I wouldn’t make it. You are a thief.  You try and steal my joy and my peace and my forgiveness.

But no longer.

Yes, you are like a cold that appears out of nowhere but I won’t let you linger.  Absolutely not!

Even if I must lay out on the floor and cry out to God. Even if I have to scream and shout exactly how I feel.  Then. I. will.  

Yes, there is so much I still don’t understand.  So much I am learning.  But you and me, we are officially done.  

Goodbye and so long,
Liz

It has been over thirteen years since I heard you speak at a women’s conference.  At this conference you chose to touch upon a topic that so many women struggle with - identity. At that time,  I thought I was the only one.  

I still remember the day.  The day you asked all of the women, at the conference, to take out their mirror, from their purse,  and look into it and write down what they see.  I remember thinking, “This lady is crazy!”   In summary, the mirror was never my friend.   Typically, once we (the mirror and I) finished our morning engagement we parted company until the next day.

So, on this day, my goal was just to make it through the exercise.  But little did I know, God would use you, to help me, with a life long struggle. 

For the next morning when I woke up and I looked in the mirror, I heard, “I don’t see what you see.”   My first thought was, “Good thing!”  I then heard words of affirmation spoken and I began to cry.  It was on this day, at this women’s conference, that the healing began from my identity crisis that had plagued me most of my life.

I thanked you years ago but I want to thank you again.   God used you to change my life significantly and it was on that day I began the journey of seeing myself as God sees me.  It was that day I started to love me. 

I am still not a fan of selfies but my days of hiding from getting my picture taken have pretty much ended.   Keep in mind I said pretty much. 

Now, when I reflect on the mirror, what do I see?    A selfie I love.  That would be me.   

Your friend,
Reflectively Free,
In Christ,
Liz

​Father,
Thank You for designing me.  I used to think my life was like tapestry only I was inside out.  The beautiful parts of me only existed within and the outside was a disheveled mess.  Until one day You changed all that.  I call that day “The Mirror Experience.”  Thank You God for using Elder Genary  as a vessel and I pray that You continue to bless her life immensely wherever she may be.  In Jesus Name, Amen.

Look Mommy! Look!  As I looked up to see what might have the attention of this toddler I realized she was pointing at me.  By now her Mom grabbed her finger and pushed it down while whispering in her ear.  Whatever Mommy said obviously did not appease the little girl because as soon as she had the opportunity she pointed at me again.

​As I passed by the little girl, and her Mom, the Mom’s face was red, I assumed with embarrassment.  I waved at the little girl and spoke.   After the little girl waved back, I watched her as she slowly put her hand up to her face and  pressed on her nose.  She meant no harm.  

I thought maybe some day I will get used to this.  I can shake it off a lot quicker than I used to be able to because I know the truth.  I know I am not a mistake.  I know God was not shocked or dismayed when I was born.  I know I have a future and a hope. I know that when He looks at me He sees nothing but greatness.   A funny shaped nose wrapped up in greatness. A scarred face adorned with a precious crown of acceptance and beauty in the eyes of God.   Plan and purpose strewn in a banner across my chest.  

What if normal and perfect were eradicated as descriptors for people?  What if every child, no matter what they looked like, knew just how precious they are in the eyes of God?  What if children were told, from birth, that God makes no mistakes? What if they were told this day after day after day after day? Not only by their parents, relatives, friends and neighbors, but also by the educational system?  What if it were engrained in them from the time they were born so that difference was embraced?  And not called out?

A world of what ifs?  But honestly it can be.
​

In the midst of writing “The Letter Series” this was placed on my heart, and so today I share. 

​Maybe there are times, when life seems to be so out of whack, we need to remember to insert a comma.  We need to take time to pause.  Pause and wait on God.  Pause and see just what He will do and what He wants us to do.    

Father,
Help us to pause and wait on You.  In Jesus Name, Amen.
​

Dear Friend,
Get this!   As crazy as it seems, in one of my letters to God, I told Him that I forgive Him.  I actually wrote, “I forgive You God.”  And I meant it.  

Guess what?  There was a response.  Yes, I heard so loud and clear in my spirit, “There is a comma missing.  It is I forgive you comma God.”   

Then I penned this:
The comma was missing.  The punctuation that separated one idea from another. 

The initial idea that I believed God was on a mission.   His goal: Make my life miserable.  For many years, from my perspective, the evidence seemed to support it.

I thought I existed to just get by.  Now I know differently.  There came a day where I learned the truth.  God always had a plan and purpose for me.  A good one, too.  God is for me.

So, I ask you, friend, are you missing a comma?  Do you need to separate one idea from another?

Like me, do you need to pause and separate your thoughts from God’s thoughts?  Do you need to separate one idea that you have formed from God’s truth?  

Hmmm, maybe life is all about perspective:  God’s perspective 💜

Be Strengthened and Encouraged in HIM,
Liz

We have become His poetry, a re-created people that will fulfill the destiny He has given each of us, for we are joined to Jesus, the Anointed One.  Even before we were born, God planned in advance our destiny and the good work we would do to fulfill it.  Ephesians 2:10 TPT

​

Dear God,
Remember when I wanted nothing to do with You?  There was a time in my life when I thought if there really was a God then the definition would read something like, “Creator and Ruler of the Universe with a vengeance for…”   Somehow, not sure why, my name was listed first and foremost directly after the ellipses.   

I blamed You God.   You had it in for me.   So I thought.  For so many years.   For so many reasons.   I just didn’t get You.   It started with me never understanding why Daddy had to leave.   Why did he have to die?  Didn’t You know how much I needed him?  Didn’t you know the teasing voices would one day become so much louder, in my head, and shape how I saw myself?   Didn’t You know, that without Daddy’s positive affirmations,  I would be left scarred, and this time, internally?  

Didn’t You care? 

You know it took me a long time to heal.  I spent years trying to process why.  Why, if God is so good, would He ever do this to me?  Why would God allow such a little girl to experience so much pain, grief and trauma?  What kind of God would ever think this was a good plan? 

Today, it’s different though.  I am so grateful for Who You are in my life.   I want to thank You.   Thank You God for allowing me to have at least eight years with my Dad.   I am grateful that I had him during my most formidable years.  Thank You for giving me the opportunity to know a father’s love.  An unconditional father’s love.  Both Daddy and Yours. 

I still don’t understand ‘the why’s” but it no longer matters.

Oh God, there is so much I want to say.   But then again, You already know.  

I know some day I will see Daddy again in Heaven and then I can thank him for loving me the way that he did.   In the meantime, could You let him know.  

I love you so much God that somedays all I can do is just cry. 

Your daughter forever,
Liz
​

Dear Daddy, 
I imagine the day I was born.   The doctor comes out of the delivery room to hand you me.  As you take me, the first words I hear spoken from you are words of affirmation, seemingly uttered oh, so, naturally.  As you speak to me, the doctor speaks, too.   Your little girl has been born with a birth defect.  Cleft lip and palate is what it is termed.  But don’t worry, Daddy, we will gather a team of specialist and will make her look as normal as possible.  As the doctor continues to speak, you look at me, tears are rolling down your face, because you are so enamored with your little girl, as if you never heard the words spoken by the doctor.

As the years go on, I grow to fall so deeply in love with you, and you me.  Thank you, Daddy,  for loving me the way you did.  I was your princess and you were my king.

I always wondered if you ever knew how much I needed you.   How much I needed those daily positive declarations reminding me of who I was in your eyes.   Oh, how I needed those looks of endearing love coming from you, my father.  

Daddy, around you,  I never felt anything but normal.  But all that came to an abrupt halt the day you were murdered.   

Daddy, you made the newspaper.  Day after day.  A news reporter said and I quote, “They are too young to realize the enormity of their tragedy.”    He was talking about me and Pete and Toni.   Daddy, I always wondered if that guy really understood the significance of his statement.   I doubt it.  But I did.  

The thought of losing you still brings tears to my eyes even today.  Oh, Daddy, I will love you forever.  Forever and ever.  I cannot wait to see you again ❤️❤️❤️  

Your daughter forever,
Lizzy

​As I penned this letter to my Daddy, fifty-one years have passed since his brutal, senseless, unsolved murder.   It took me a very long time, but I have finally made peace with it.  There is still an ache.  I really doubt it will ever go away, until I am in Heaven, until I am in his arms yet again. 
​

Some time ago, I wrote a letter to my Dad.  I never finished it until, one day, I finally picked it back up and completed it.   Then I wrote another letter and another.  When I first started writing the letters I didn’t realize it would be part of a series of letters, yet, here we are.  Welcome to ‘The Letter Series”.

​To live in the world and to make it,
First you must see yourself.
The reflection in a mirror must be known by you.
Then you can learn to love others
And they will be in your life forever
Whoever they may be!
Life starts with you and ends with you.
We live as we dream ——— alone…

So, many of you are thinking, friend, hmm, is this a letter?  

As I thought about how to open this series, the composition (above) came to mind, and correct, it’s not a letter.  I had just turned sixteen when I wrote the composition as an assignment.  I have carried it with me for well over forty years.   This is how I felt for the longest.  Every. Single. Day.  Alone.  This was my internal truth.  

Until it wasn’t.  

Until I found me.  The person God intended me to be.  

Today, I’d like to invite you on yet another journey, inspired by years of a messy diary of sorts, on the passage to wholeness.    Again, welcome to “The Letter Series.”

Let’s pray.

Father,
I thank You for Who You are.  I thank You that Your wrap-around Presence allows me to know I am safe with You.   Bless all those who journey through this series.  Speak to them as only You can do.    We are the clay in Your hands.  Mold us.  Make us.  In Jesus Name, Amen

Until next week,
Be Strengthened and Encouraged in HIM,
Liz