Beyond the Journey Home

Ezekiel's Cherubim

Somewhere beyond our last breath and our immediate arrival a great anticipation occurs. The angels wings are flapping wildly and the glory of the Lord is shining ever so brightly. The gates are polished and the news is spread, another Saint is coming in. Family and friends, some known and unknown gather just outside of Glory's Gate. They anticipate and celebrate - they cheer and laugh and shout for joy as praises rise for our Great and Mighty Lord...
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Beyond the journey home there is a great destiny, a life to live beyond existence where pain and agony cease and ecstatic joy begin! A life truly in the Spirit as we stand in the presence of our loved ones who have gone before and before the Savior we have loved so long. A life lived out not just renewed, but restored, revived - truly REBORN! Revelation 22 speaks to me so beautifully...
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"Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city. On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be any curse. The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and his servants will serve him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the lord God will give them light. And they will reign for ever and ever.

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"The angel said to me, 'These words are trustworthy and true. The Lord, the God of the spirits of the prophets, sent his angel to show his servants the things that must soon take place.'
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"'Behold, I am coming soon! Blessed is he who keeps the words of the prophecy in this book.'
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"'Behold, I am coming soon! My reward is with me, and I will give to everyone according to what he has done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.
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'Blessed are those who wash their robes, that they may have the right to the tree of life and may go through the gates into the city...
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'I, Jesus, have sent my angel to give you this testimony for th churches. I am the Root and the Offspring of David, and the bright Morning Star.'
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"The Spirit and the bride say, 'Come!' and let him who hears say, 'Come! Whoever is thirsty, let him come; and whoever wishes, let him take the free gift of the water of life.
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"He who testifies to these things says, 'Yes, I am coming soon.' Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.
"The grace of the Lord Jesus be with God's people. Amen."
(Revelation 22:1-7, 12-17, 20-21 NIV)

This website was born out of Grief... but is really about Life!

I started this blog to pay tribute to my boy who is not with us any longer, but God reminded me today that my ultimate purpose is to write the story, His story (not my son's) - the story God is telling through my life. He has given me a deep love for fiction, mostly romantic novel type fiction, and a deep love of words.

Today, I sat at home --- waiting for my husband and daughter to return home from church watching a video produced by our church about "Hearing God." Obviously the first and most important way we learn to hear God is through the Holy Bible. But, what about those dreams and impressions, those times when God gives us a Word in season that sends us headlong into His Holy Scriptures searching for confirmation, direction and resolution.

That is where I have been these last few months. I have struggled for many years with the idea that God has given me a writer's voice, a heart to tell a story and to teach others from the experiences I have had with Him in my life as I have journeyed through His Word and the path that has led me to this place - this exact place and time in history to step beyond fear and live in the freedom of truth and faith!

At the end of the video lesson, the speaker instructed us to pray this simple prayer, "God, what do you want to say?"

Then silence. I paused the video and exhaled deeply, relaxing my mind and my mouth. I breathed slow and deep waiting for some revelation as my eyes were closed, my ears poised to "hear the voice of God." Suddenly in those quiet, sweet moments I heard the rustling of pages turning in a book, a pen scribbling curiously across the expanse of pages. I heard the future tapped on a keyboard and felt these words forming on my tongue - I translated them to my notebook resting in my lap - my pen slicing the white paper with acute black markings: "WRITE IT DOWN DON'T STOP WRITING TELL THEM MY STORY (GOD'S) Don't give up - though it lingers wait for it - don't give up - make sure the story is told. Habakkuk 2 & 3"

I asked God to drive out the voice of the enemy, confessing my fear away in favor of Love, Self-Discipline and a Sound Mind. I rebuked the whisperings of my enemy that told me my newly acquired prayer language and dream of being published were foolish undertakings, stupid and unattainable... Those things that keep me paralyzed in fear. In the name of Jesus I will live in truth and freedom.

Write the Vision and Make it Plain! Over and over again my mind returns to the phrase, "Write the story." I have been writing the story, for four years I have been struggling to tell a love story about divorce, redemption, reconciliation and restoration. I had 90 pages of rough first draft completed, some of it re-written - but still very raw. A story taking shape each time I re-read the printed pages in a generic notebook with my title and name pasted on the front. A story that is nestled deeply in my heart and soul dying to be given life and flight at the tips of my fingers.

Last night as I tapped out the cadence of my storyteller's heartbeat my story tragically turned and threatened to unravel the neatly constructed lives I had been creating for years. Like in life, something unexpected - awash in pain and confusing senselessness began to flow from my mind and heart. Before I knew it - life was turned upside down and my aching heart was reliving my own tragedy in a new way. Life would never feel normal again.

I lay in my bed tossing and turning, dreaming of my characters - waking then returning to sleep. Unable to settle my mind around what had just happened. I asked God why I had to write this story, why this painful thread of tragedy and regret. Why couldn't I just write a sweet, syrupy love story where the guy and the girl come together in the end with no pain and suffering to mar the picture perfect scenes. I told him I didn't want to write it.

This morning He spoke to me in such vivid detail that I knew He heard my prayers. He answered my spirit, my heart and gave me a Scripture to once again wrap my mind around. The same Scripture my heart heard a few months ago when I recognized writing was my calling and my specific purpose to use a teacher's heart and a reader's mind to impart truth into the lives of others.

A gentle nudge in a familiar direction. Do it well, child. I hear God tell me to Do it well.

Can it be that this is truly my destiny - that which I run from, that which I fear and view as a hobby? Can God turn my feeble mind into a port of imagination and my hands into an instrument of His revelation?

I pray it is so... I pray God is with me and I am not missing Him in some terrific way.

Until later, be blessed.

Because he was my son...

Justin Brant Newsom - March 11, 1988 - August 23, 2005

At 17 years of age he passed away from injuries he received during an automobile accident on August 15, 2005. He was the right rear seat passenger. He did not have a seatbelt on and was ejected from the car approximately 50 ft. before landing on his head. His head injury was so severe, he never awakened again after the accident that day. The angels carried him to Jesus side quietly, leaving no doubt that the Lord had called him home.

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I have learned so many things from the life and death of my oldest child, Justin. He was funny, bright, frighteningly mischievious and naive in ways that are difficult to describe. His life was riddled with broken promises, broken hearts and broken dreams. He was born my son, mine alone. His father abandoned us months before his birth and so with the help of his grandparents I welcomed my firstborn child into this world a squawling mess of pink warm flesh, a heart full of love and a head that dreamed he would grow up to love the earth, the cowboy culture of my youth and the rodeo.

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My nearly 6 ft, beautiful son loved skateboards, everything in music from Reliant K to fifty cent... and he did not know the first thing about being a cowboy. He did love the earth and hunting and fishing. He lived every moment to its absolute fullest. He wrung it out and shook it before squeezing it one last time to ensure he had enjoyed every last drop of whatever experience he had landed in for the moment. He was difficult to understand and often harder to love. But he somehow found his way into the hearts of everyone he met. He was bigger than life, a literal bull in the china closet. He would be generous to a fault, and merciless when angry. His bi-polar disorder kept us on a pendulum swing that often found us shell shocked or laughing silly, but there was very little in between. His last few weeks were spent working off his probation fees with his grandfather, discovering that he was ready to live the life he had chosen and accept the consequences for his angry actions. He was a wadded up mess with mixed up feelings, needing his father's love, but hating him just the same. One of his few journal entries shows the great battle for his testimony, "I know I need to be a better man." The words "Jesus is Lord" written in a cross. He was a walking oxymoron - a lover of Christ, dragging his friends to church each week, and walking with them in the world the other days in between.

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He claimed Proverbs 3:5-6 from the cell of the Wise County Jail during the 7 days he spent there after damaging our car in a fit of rage. I thought then that putting him in jail would be the most difficult decision I ever made, but I would later learned that I would have to face tougher realities in the final months of his life. His life verse speaking to me in so many ways. "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not to your own understanding. Acknowledge him in all your ways and he will make your paths straight." I tell his story because he was my son.
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