By Paula Williamson guest writer Are You Listening? Deuteronomy 28:1 “Now it shall be, if you diligently listen to and obey the voice of the Lord your God, being careful to do all of His commandments which I am commanding you today, the Lord your God will set you high above all the nations of the earth.”   One day I was sitting and wondering—as I often do— what keeps us from believing God speaks to us? Why do people look at you like you’re a kook if you say you believe God spoke to you? If we believe God is the God of the universe, the Creator of everything, that would make Him pretty smart. Wouldn’t we want to hear what He has to say to us? Do we think we are smarter than He is? Have we formulated our own truths? The Bible is very clear that He spoke—and continues to speak. Yet I have even been told by authority figures that God does not speak anymore, and if He did, why would I dare bother Him with my small problems. Here is my issue with those thoughts. John 10:16 “I have other sheep [beside these] that are not of this fold. I must bring those also, and they will listen to My voice and pay attention to My call, and they will become one flock with one Shepherd.” James 1:5–6 “If any of you lacks wisdom [to guide him through a decision or circumstance], he is to ask of [our benevolent] God, who gives to everyone generously and without rebuke or blame, and it will be given to him.” How do we reconcile the fact that God spoke to Adam and Eve in the garden? That He spoke to Noah and told him how to build the ark? That He spoke to Moses and told him what to say to Pharaoh? That He spoke to Abraham and told him where to go and what He was going to do? He spoke to people throughout Scripture—from beginning to end—in ways that would get their attention: words, burning bushes, dreams, visions, angelic visitations, and even in person. Why would we think He stopped? Where is that written? The older I get, the more I realize that more often than not, I must  unlearn  something I believed was truth before the truth can actually find a place of rest in me. If you don’t believe God still speaks, how do you reconcile these scriptures? Hebrews 13:8 “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” Isaiah 30:20–21 “Although the Lord has given you bread of deprivation and water of oppression, He, your Teacher, will no longer hide Himself, but your eyes will see your Teacher.Your ears will hear a word behind you, saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it,’ whenever you turn to the right or to the left.” Mark 13:11 “When they take you and hand you over, do not worry beforehand about what you are to say, but say whatever is given you in that hour; for it is not you who speak, but the Holy Spirit.” Revelation 3:22 “Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches.” When I take my last breath, there is only one truth that will matter to me—and that is  His  truth. He spoke. He still speaks. He continues to speak to anyone who has ears to hear. Will we mess up and think we heard God when we didn’t? Absolutely. We are human. But I would rather do my best to listen, and ask forgiveness when I fail, than to never tune my ears to His voice at all. Prayer: Oh, Lord God, give us ears to hear. Remove every lie we have been taught as truth—or concocted in our own minds as truth. Unravel the deceptions of this world: the mocking voices, the scoffing, and the fear of being labeled a kook or a fanatic. Help us to be courageous and obedient—like Noah, who built a boat for a flood when there had never been rain; like Abraham and Sarah at one hundred, when You promised descendants beyond number; like Joseph, who dared to believe his dreams; like Moses standing before Pharaoh; like Mary, a young unwed virgin who said yes to Your impossible plan. Oh Lord, that we would dare to believe, to move, and to live by Your truth. In Your great mercy, give us hearing ears again—and faith to believe that You are still the same yesterday, today, and forever. Amen. Devotional Takeaway God has not gone silent—He is still speaking. The question is not  if  He speaks, but whether we are willing to quiet the noise, lay aside fear, and listen with faith-filled hearts. Hearing Him requires humility, courage, and a willingness to unlearn what keeps us from trusting His voice. This blog was taken from my book, Listen for His Whisper , a free download

By Paula Williamson guest writer The Silver Lining One morning as I was driving to work, the sun was rising—and on this particular day, a huge gray cloud sat directly in front of it. Yet the sun’s rays spilled over the edges, giving the cloud a silver lining. As I drove, saying my prayers, I sensed the quiet whisper of the Lord stilling my heart about the things I was going through in my life—things that felt just as dark and heavy as that looming cloud before me. I began asking the Lord to show me the silver lining in my own dark cloud. I prayed quietly, Lord, it seems to be more than I can bear. I believe in Your promises, and I believe Your Word—but where is the silver lining here? I know You can teach me a valuable lesson, but I am so tired. I feel like giving up. I had fought many battles in my life, but this one felt like the darkest. I continued my hour-long commute, staring at that cloud as it almost completely covered the sun. As I approached a hill and reached the top, I was suddenly able to see what lay on the other side of the darkness. There was a beautiful rainbow. It felt like such a gift that tears flooded my eyes as I realized something profound: it had been there all along. I only needed to press on—to the top of the hill—to see it. 2 Corinthians 12:9 is one of my favorite verses: “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is perfected in weakness.” I knew my God was whispering hope and encouragement to me. It was as if He were saying, My darling, this rainbow is a promise to you. There is light on the other side of your dark cloud. My promises are faithful and true. Just press on. I am here for you—even though you do not see a way out. I am here for you—even though the darkness feels overwhelming. As I passed over the crest of the hill and began driving down the other side, the rainbow disappeared. Once again, before me was the dark cloud—still massive—but now edged with a silver lining. I knew God had given me another visual reminder: encouragement to press through the darkness, fully aware of its size. The thought of living through it felt overwhelming. I had no solutions. It was far too great for me to handle on my own. My only hope was in the promises of God. Isaiah 40:28–31 Do you not know? Have you not heard? The everlasting God, the Lord, The Creator of the ends of the earth does not become weary or tired. His understanding is inscrutable. He gives strength to the weary, and to him who lacks might He increases power. Though youths grow weary and tired, and vigorous young men stumble badly, yet those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength; they will mount up with wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not faint. Prayer Lord, I come to You today praying Your Word from Ephesians 3:16–20.I ask that You grant me, according to the riches of Your glory, to be strengthened with power through Your Spirit in my inner being—so that Christ may dwell in my heart through faith. May I be rooted and grounded in love, able to comprehend with all the saints the breadth, length, height, and depth of Your love, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge. Fill me to the fullness of God. Now to You—who are able to do exceedingly, abundantly beyond all that I ask or think, according to the power that works within me—to You be the glory, now and forever. Amen. Devotional Takeaway Sometimes the silver lining is not revealed until we press forward—step by step—through the darkness. God does not always remove the cloud, but He faithfully places reminders of His presence along the way. The rainbow may disappear, but His promises remain, quietly calling us to keep walking. This blog was taken from my book, Listen for His Whisper , a free download

By Paula Williamson guest writer Shattered Dreams I don’t know where on earth I got some of my dreams and perceptions about life, and what it would be like, but I had them—and I believed they were simple and attainable. I dreamed I would marry a man who loved me, and the things I loved, and that we would be there for one another through thick and thin. We would have a little house with a white picket fence, just like the one I drew in grade school, and all the children would have smiling faces. I dreamed of my husband arriving home each day with candy and roses, grabbing me in his arms, wanting to hear every detail of my day. That was dead dream number one. I dreamed my children would always be happy and love me because I was such a wonderful mother. Of course, they would never be in trouble, drink, do drugs, or do anything wrong. They would go to college, marry the mates of their dreams—who had been carefully trained by yet another perfect mother—and go off to homes with white picket fences of their own. They would have wonderful lives and perfect children. That was dead dream number two. I assumed the house with the white picket fence—and all that came with it: furniture, appliances, carpeting, windows, plumbing, air-conditioning, lawn mower, and car—would never break because we took such good care of them. Surely, they would last forever or at least come with a lifetime guarantee. Dead dream number three. I dreamed we would all go to a perfect little church where everyone loved each other, spoke kindly, and stayed there forever serving the Lord. Dead dream number four. I dreamed of the perfect job that provided the perfect living, ended before dinner, and sent us home fresh as a daisy after a good day’s work—ready to spend the rest of the day in bliss with the ones we loved. Dead dream number five. I dreamed my soul mate and I would never fight, and neither would our children, because our home was so filled with love. Dead dream number six. I also must have dreamed I could fix all our favorite foods, eat all the desserts and candy my parents never allowed, enjoy the box of chocolates my darling brought home—and never gain any weight. That would be dead dream number… I’m losing count. Now, I have had many other dreams, and most are in the cemetery with their number on them. But where in the world did, I get these ideas? I know I didn’t consciously dream them up, but I felt the reality of a broken dream crashing down in my heart when things didn’t measure up to what I thought they would be. Each failed dream was a terrible realization and a major hurdle for me to get over. I don’t think I had even been married one week when my first dream crashed. We had just moved into the garage apartment in my in-laws’ backyard when my mother-in-law began to call my new husband home for dinner out her kitchen window. It wasn’t long before the eyes that had once held mine captive began to stare at the television instead, and when the children came along, I had no clue there would be times we would not have the money for diapers or milk. As the children grew, I never imagined they would be jealous of one another or want eighty-dollar shoes. I never dreamed they would think I was unreasonable or old-fashioned. Maybe I watched too many episodes of  Leave It to Beaver , or one too many fairy tales. Perhaps you’ve dreamed your own dreams that have come crashing down. It really doesn’t matter where they came from or how they became broken and shattered. What does matter is the good news—and that is this: God heals broken hearts and broken dreams if we allow Him and helps us to let them go. Scripture: Psalm 34:18 The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Prayer: Lord, how thankful I am that You are in the business of healing broken heart and broken dreams.. I ask You to heal and restore the broken things in my life and in my heart. I willingly release the dreams I have held so tightly—especially those that were never within Your will or purpose for me. Though I do not understand how many things turned out, I bring them to You—for burial or for resurrection if it is your will—and I trust You to do as You see fit. May our hearts rest in peace in Your faithful hands. Amen. Devotional Takeaway: Some dreams must be buried before better ones can be born. When we release our shattered dreams into His hands, we make room for His promises—stronger, truer, and eternal.

By Paula Williamson guest writer Somewhere Under the Rainbow Sometimes, I’m a little slow at understanding things. I need to  see  them to truly grasp them. Those who know me well have learned this about me—more than once they’ve said, “Here, let me draw you a picture.” We all learn differently, and I’m so grateful we’re not all the same. If we were, the world would lose so much of its wonder. Just look at springtime flowers. Each one is bursting with detail and beauty, crafted by God’s hand—yet only some of us slow down enough to notice. His love is extravagant like that. A Stormy Drive Home One afternoon, I was driving home from work under a dreary, overcast sky. A light drizzle began to fall, and the closer I got to home, the heavier the rain became. As I crested a hill, something unexpected happened. The rain stopped instantly. The sun broke through the clouds as if I had crossed into another dimension—and there it was. A stunning rainbow stretched across the sky. As I drove, my thoughts went straight to Noah and the ark. God placed the rainbow in the sky as a promise—never again would He destroy the earth with water. For months, I had been recording God’s promises from the book of Psalms, and suddenly they all came rushing back to me. Sometimes I’m completely oblivious to what God is teaching me. Other times, I know without a doubt that He’s trying to show me something. That day, standing between the dreary sky and the brilliant colors, I knew He was painting me a picture. Right Under the Promise As I neared the turnoff to my road, it looked as though I was driving straight  under  the rainbow. I’m thankful no one was nearby—I was practically plastered against the windshield, looking up, then left, then right, whispering to myself like a child: I think I’m going right under the rainbow… I can’t believe this… I’m right under the rainbow! My road required a sharp 180-degree turn, and when I looked again, the rainbow was gone. I stopped and wondered,  Where did it go? Then I saw it—reflected clearly in my rearview mirror. Out loud, I declared, “I AM UNDER THE RAINBOW!” God’s Gentle Whisper The moment the words left my mouth, I sensed God’s gentle whisper in my heart: Paula, I’ve been trying to teach you this all along. You are under My promises. They cover you. They protect you. They belong to you. They are yours. I sat there in tears, soaking in the truth of it. Every promise God has made is for His children. If you belong to Him, those promises cover your life too. What a precious picture God gave me that day—one I could finally understand. Known, Loved, and Wonderfully Made Psalm 139 reminds us just how deeply God knows us: “O Lord, You have searched me and known me…Even before there is a word on my tongue,Behold, O Lord, You know it all.” Isn’t that astounding? The God who created the universe knows us—intimately. Verse 13 says He formed our inward parts and wove us together in our mother’s womb. Verse 16 tells us His eyes saw our unformed substance. The original language even implies His hands were involved. We are not accidents.We are not overlooked.We are lovingly created with purpose and intention. Worth More Than We Know Jesus reminds us in Matthew 6 not to be anxious about our lives—what we will eat, drink, or wear. If God feeds the birds and clothes the lilies with splendor greater than Solomon’s, how much more does He care for us? When I think of His love, it overwhelms me. He knows exactly what each of us needs—even the way we learn and understand. He meets us there. Nothing Can Separate Us Paul writes in Romans: “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?”Neither death nor life… nor height nor depth…shall be able to separate us from the love of Godwhich is in Christ Jesus our Lord. We are always—always—under His promise. A Prayer: Father God,Your people perish for lack of knowledge. Forgive us for neglecting Your Word, so rich with truth and life. Stir our hearts to seek You and Your promises. Open blind eyes and deaf ears. Pour out Your Spirit upon this earth, that we might taste and see how good You are. Help us see You for who You truly are. Amen.   Devotional Takeaway:  When circumstances feel gray and heavy, remember: the rainbow doesn’t erase the storm—it  stands over it . God’s promises do not deny hardship; they declare His faithfulness in the middle of it. This blog was taken from my book, Listen for His Whisper , a free download.

By Paula Williamson Guest writer If Roses Could Talk Some people think I have an overactive imagination and that’s where all my stories come from.I don’t agree. More than anything in this world, I long to hear His whisper, to sense His nudge, to follow His lead, and to have  God-stories  to tell that bring glory to Him. That’s where my imagination truly comes alive—in the space where His voice touches ordinary moments and turns them into treasures. I have spent more than forty years teaching preschoolers, but truthfully,  they  were often the ones teaching me. They are never bored with life. Everything is wonder. Everything is new. They take things literally, trust without hesitation, and find delight in the smallest surprises. Their eyes sparkle with curiosity and innocence. Somewhere along life’s long road, we lose that childlike wonder. I believe it is one of our greatest losses. long to have that kind of relationship with my Father in Heaven—to walk through His world wide-eyed, seeing every detail He crafted with love. Often, in those childlike moments, poems and lessons come to me unexpectedly. When they do, I write them down, and today was one of those days. A Garden Center Whisper I drove to the garden center to buy roses—beautiful, fragrant, blooming roses. Now, I don’t know much about roses, so I just picked the ones with the biggest blossoms and the sweetest scents. As I pushed them along in my cart, seasoned gardeners stopped to admire them and offer their hard-earned wisdom. “Cut off the blooms so the roots can establish.”“Give them full sun.”“They don’t like wet feet.”“Don’t get their leaves wet.”“Pruning is essential, dear.” By the time I arrived home with my beauties, my mind was spinning. Cut off the blooms? These gorgeous, perfect blooms? The very thing that drew me to them? I followed the instructions, dug the holes, and gently placed each rosebush in the soil. The sun was warm, the birds sang, and the day felt just right. Then… that familiar stirring. That holy hush. The sense that God was whispering to me. I paused mid-dig. I wonder what roses would say if they could talk? Instantly, I remembered how each rose in the garden center seemed to call out, “Pick me!” Their beauty was irresistible. And then the elderly woman’s soft warning returned to my mind: “They’ll need a strong root system to make it through the winter.” Roots. Strength. Survival. Suddenly I knew: This wasn’t just about roses. Pruning Hurts, But It Heals I held the pruning shears in my hand and looked at the roses—full, vibrant, radiant. Yet, I knew what had to happen. I had to cut off the very blooms I loved. It felt cruel. As if the whole garden sensed it, a hush settled in the air. I imagined the little roses with wide eyes watching me approach. “Why would you do this?”“Why cut off something so beautiful?”“Why take away what makes me shine?” Their blooms fell to the ground one by one. And right then, the Holy Spirit brought a scripture to my heart: John 15:1–2 “I am the true Vine, and My Father is the vinedresser…Every branch that continues to bear fruit, He repeatedly prunes,so that it will bear more fruit—richer, finer fruit.” Oh, I knew He was speaking. I could almost hear the cries of the roses—confused, hurting, unaware that cutting back now would mean flourishing later. I wondered: Do we do that with God? Do we assume He’s cruel when He removes something precious? Do we accuse Him when things don’t go our way? Do we forget that pruning isn’t punishment—it’s preparation? It cost me something to cut away those blooms.Love does that. A gardener’s heart does that. God’s heart does that. We are much like those rosebushes—proud of our little blossoms, confident in ourselves, strutting our stuff. Then along come the shears. Not because He’s angry. Not because He’s harsh. But because He sees what we cannot: next season.next spring.the greater fruit. It isn’t sunny days and easy paths that build deep spiritual roots. It’s trials. It’s testing.It ’s trusting the Vinedresser. When the Shears Come James 1:2–3  says: “Consider it nothing but joy… when you fall into various trials,knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance—leading to spiritual maturity and inner peace.” Oh, how hard that is to live out.But how necessary. Help us believe You when You say: “More fruit is coming.” Closing Prayer: Lord, when Your pruning shears come—when trials cut deep, when circumstances strip away what we thought we needed, when life feels barren for a season—help us not to grumble or grow bitter. Help us not to judge You as unkind. Help us trust that Your hands are gentle, Your timing is perfect, and Your pruning is always for our good.   Devotional Takeaway: If roses could talk…they might just thank the gardener later. Gratitude changes us from the inside out. _____________________________________________________________________________ This blog was taken from my book, Listen for His Whisper , a free download.

By Paula Williamson guest writer Ready to Fly For as long as I can remember, as I slept snuggled into my bedtime covers, dreams rolled through the night of me flying. Not in an airplane, not in a balloon or a helicopter—just  me,  soaring through the sky. The earliest ones came when I was about six years old. In those dreams I would run with my arms stretched wide, hoping the wind would lift me up like a kite. It never did. Other dreams had me jumping and flapping my arms with all the strength I could muster—still no flight. And yet, in my dreams, I kept trying. They were dreams I looked forward to as I slept and dreams that encouraged me to know, there is more in my waking hours. Deep within was always this burning desire in me to be set free to fly. When I was around twelve, something changed. In the dream, I ran down the sidewalk near my home, flapping like always, and suddenly—my feet lifted off the ground. Only a little, but enough to send a thrill through me. In the dream, I tried to get everyone’s attention, but no one seemed to notice. The dreams continued for years. And each time, I flew a little higher. By the time I was a teenager, I was flying like the old T.V. series The Flying Nun—soaring over neighborhoods, waving at people far below. Waking up was always disappointing. Flying felt so real in my dreams, so wonderful, so free. As the years passed, the dreams changed again. I no longer needed to run or flap. I could simply stand still, wiggle a finger, and lift straight into the sky. No effort. No striving. Just rising—carried by a strength that was not my own. Those dreams made my soul feel weightless, powerful, limitless. I even flew under water breathing as easily as if I were in the air. I didn’t think much about them at the time. But God did. When Life Knocks the Wind Out of You The truth is, most of my adult life has felt nothing like flying. It has felt like falling, breaking, surviving, and sometimes barely breathing. I have walked through seasons I never wanted to experience—more than twenty family members gone, painful divorces in my family including my own after thirty-three years, trauma, addictions, abuse, mental illness, cancer and chemo, shattered relationships, heroes losing health and heartbreak that took my breath away and battles I never saw coming.I have carried burdens far too heavy for human shoulders. Flying was the last word I’d use to describe my life. Until one morning…when God used a voice on the radio to meet me in the deepest part of my soul. Walk to the Edge Making my 45 minute commute to work I listened to the radio. I was listening to Priscilla Evans when she said something that felt like God stepped right into my car and sat beside me: “Many of you are coming to the edge of a cliff in your life, and God is saying: walk up to the edge.” Her words pierced my heart. I knew God was talking to me. But everything inside me screamed back: God, I’ve seen enough pain.I don’t want to go to any new edges.Not today. Not tomorrow.Not EVER—DOUBLE DOG NEVER! Yet in my spirit, I could hear Him: “Paula… walk to the edge.” I didn’t want to see what was there. I didn’t want to look down. I didn’t want another battle. I didn’t want to fall. But something in me—something deeper than fear—knew I had to obey. Priscilla’s voice broke through again: “Now do you know what God is going to do once you get there?He’s going to PUSH YOU OFF.And do you know what you’re going to do?You’re going to FLY.” She went on: “You’re going to fall until the powerful wind of the Holy Spirit catches your wings…and you’re going to soar as you have NEVER soared before.” At that exact moment, God brought every childhood dream of flying back to my mind. Dreams I hadn’t thought about in years suddenly made sense. Flying Was Never Meant to Be Your Effort As a young Christian, Galatians 5 was a checklist—love, joy, peace, patience…Okay, I failed this one today. I’ll try harder tomorrow. I flapped my arms, spiritually speaking. I ran faster. Tried harder. Strained more. But true flying—true living by the Spirit—was never about my effort. Hard years taught me that I am powerless to save myself, powerless to fix everything, powerless to keep life from shattering around me. I tried every resource, every self-help book, every great author and teacher, and every idea. I came to the edge of despair… and still couldn’t fly. Then I completed Beth Moore’s  Living Beyond Yourself. I thought it would teach me practical things to  do. Instead it taught me who God  is. It wasn’t about me flapping harder. It wasn’t about me generating my own lift. It wasn’t about me being strong enough to soar. It was about surrender. About stepping off the cliff with no ability to fly at all…and trusting the Holy Spirit to carry me. The Place We Learn to Fly Oh, dear one—are you tired today? Worn?Frustrated? Trying as hard as you can and still falling short? Maybe you, too, are standing at the edge of a cliff in your life. Maybe God is whispering the same thing to you: Walk to the edge.Let go.Fall into My arms.Trust Me to carry you. The safest place you will ever fall is into the everlasting arms of God. What an incredible place to land. What an incredible place to rest. What an incredible place to learn…to fly. Psalm 91:4 (KJV)He shall cover thee with His feathers, and under His wings shalt thou trust… Isaiah 40:30–31 (KJV)…they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength;they shall mount up with wings as eagles… Closing Prayer: Lord of Heaven and Earth,You are my refuge. You are the wind beneath my wings. Teach me to trust You so deeply that I stop striving in my own strengthand rest in Yours. Bring me to that Sabbath rest where I cease from my own efforts and let You be enough. Carry me. Lift me. Help me fly. In Jesus’ name, amen. Devotional Takeaway: God holds the prescription glasses that help you see heaven’s perspective. ____________________________________________________________________________   This blog was taken from my book, Listen for His Whisper , a free download.

By Paula Williamson guest writer New Eyes There was a season in my life when disillusionment settled over me like a heavy fog. Family struggles, friendships shifting, tension in my church, challenges at work—it all piled up until I wanted nothing more than to hide from the world. So , I did. I left my ten-year career as a Mary Kay beauty consultant and started cleaning houses. Day after day, I went from room to room searching for dirt, dust, and cobwebs—never realizing how symbolic it all was. It was during those quiet hours that I discovered a powerful but painful truth: what you focus on, you will find everywhere. A Heart Full of Dust My life had been marked by so much disappointment and humbling that journaling became my only outlet. But in that season, my journal wasn’t filled with hope or prayers—it was filled with complaints. One day, overwhelmed by frustration, I sat down and wrote out everything that had hurt, disappointed, or disillusioned me. Four full pages of it. I poured out every irritation, every wound, every ugly feeling that had taken up residence inside of me. When I finished, I expected relief. Instead, I still felt just as heavy. I folded up those pages and placed them in my God Box, hoping peace would come later. But it didn’t. I walked away with the same nagging oppression in my chest. Then came the gentle whisper: “Go back. Write down everything you’re thankful for instead.” The Shift So, I turned around.I sat back down. And I began listing blessings. One by one. Line by line. Gift after gift. Six pages later, the tears began to flow. I saw how ungrateful I had become. How negative. How critical. How judgmental. God wasn’t shaming me—He was softening me. My heart began to see with  new eyes  what I had completely taken for granted. When Did I Lose My Wonder? Why is it we can be endlessly patient with other people’s children—yet lose patience with our own? Why can we admire someone else’s home, job, or family—yet be so critical about our own? Why is it so easy to focus on what we don’t have, don’t like, or don’t want…and miss the blessings sitting right in front of us? Cleaning houses taught me more than how to scrub a floor. I realized I had been spending my days looking for dirt—so it naturally sifted into every part of my life. I majored in what was wrong. In doing so, I surrendered the gift of gratitude—the very thing that keeps our hearts soft, alive, and able to see good. Focusing on the negative didn’t just drain me emotionally…it drained me spiritually. It stole my joy, my energy, my hope, and even the sparkle from my eyes. How had I allowed that to happen? Still Blessed I am alive. The sun is shining. Birds are singing. There is beauty all around me. I can walk. I can talk. I can think. I can choose. I have a home, a car, a job, a family, friends, health, freedom, and breath in my lungs. How had I lost sight of all this? I had been staring at what I lost instead of what I still had, focusing on what was broken instead of what was beautiful? Noticing people’s faults instead of their strengths? Before You Throw a Stone… When the woman caught in adultery was brought before Jesus, He simply said: “Let him who has no sin cast the first stone.” One by one, every accuser walked away with their heads lowered. I came into this world with nothing.I will leave the same way. I have heard that, “Every day in between is a gift.That’s why it’s called  The Present.” I can spend my day angry, bitter, ungrateful, and blind…or I can live as a child of wonder and awe—a grateful daughter of the King. Time is far too precious to waste on brooding, regretting, or clinging to offenses. It moves faster than sand slipping through an hourglass—and unlike an hourglass, life can’t be turned over for another chance. I don’t want to waste a single moment. What about you? The Corners No One Sees I once read that Michelangelo spent meticulous hours painting the corners of the Sistine Chapel on the tops of the upper columns no one would ever see. When asked why, he simply said: “God will see.” That’s how I want to live—paying attention to the hidden places, the corners of my heart and to others that no one else may notice. Closing Prayer: Father, Give me eyes that see the good in things when good is not obvious. When I see the storms of life like Peter noticing the waves surrounding him, shift my gaze toward the all-knowing, ever present invincible God who sees and cares and is always at work. Help me grab his hand with my faith and give thanks in all things.   Devotional Takeaway: Gratitude changes your perspective and your heart. _____________________________________________________________________________     This blog was taken from my book, Listen for His Whisper , a free download.

By Paula Williamson guest writer GOD SPEAKS THROUGH NATURE Romans 1:20  tells us that from the beginning of time, creation itself has been proclaiming the invisible nature of God. Every sunrise, every breeze, every season carries His fingerprints. The older I get, the more I realize—God never stops speaking through what He has made. There are days when the beauty of His creation stops me in my tracks. A sunrise painted in colors no artist could replicate. A sunset that rests across the sky like a promise. The whisper of wind through the trees that feels like a holy hush. Sometimes, the sense of His presence is so strong that I must pull over my car or pause whatever I’m doing just to savor the moment. This story comes from one of those moments. A Whisper on a Country Road Every morning, I preferred to take the same quiet country road to work rather than the busy highway. It became my listening place—my sanctuary on wheels. One morning, God began whispering a lesson about  seasons . Everything that had been vibrant, green, and full of life was changing. Trees that once danced joyfully in the wind were now surrendering their leaves. Some trees released their leaves freely, almost gracefully. Others clung tightly to what had once been their glory. And some—trees I had never paid attention to before—suddenly displayed striking colors I hadn’t noticed in previous seasons. I felt the Lord nudging my heart: “Pay attention. There is a lesson here.” The Humbling of Seasons Jesus said,  “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and everyone who humbles himself will be exalted.” — Luke 14:11 As the days passed, I watched the transformation continue. The grass browned. Leaves disappeared. Branches stood bare under the changing sky. To my natural eyes, it looked like loss. It almost felt like an enemy had swept in and stolen the beauty that had once covered the landscape. But then came the quiet whisper in my spirit: “This is just a season.” God’s Unseen Work One evening after work, I sat on my back porch thinking about everything I had seen on my drives to and from work. God began to reveal His mysteries to me. And in the stillness, He pulled back the curtain and revealed a deeper truth: Nothing was actually dead. The real growth was happening  underground , hidden beneath the surface where no eye could see. Suddenly hope arose within me. God was teaching me something so precious: Just because I can’t see God working doesn’t mean nothing is happening. Some of His most powerful, transformative work happens in the unseen places—beneath the soil of our circumstances, deep within the roots of our hearts. Lessons from the Garden As someone who loves gardening, I know firsthand how important healthy roots are. Good soil matters. Nourishment matters. Seasons matter. Farmers even burn their fields at times—yet the fields return richer than before. So why do I get discouraged so easily by life’s circumstances? They, too, are only  seasons . God already told us that as long as the earth remains, there will be  seedtime and harvest, summer and winter, springtime and growth . Nothing lasts forever—not even the winters of our lives. Sometimes, what looks like loss is actually preparation. When Something Must Die to Live John 12:24  says: “Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains alone;but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” I found myself thinking of Jesus in the tomb. To the world, it looked like the end of His story. Darkness. Silence. Death. But underneath that stone…underground…unseen… a miracle was forming.They had no idea what was coming around the corner. Looking for the Good One day when I was discouraged, my older sister said something I’ve never forgotten: “Sis, you gotta look for the good.If you don’t see it—look harder. If you still don’t see it, look again.” Those weren’t just her words. They were heaven’s words for my heart that day. Because God’s goodness is always present—sometimes plainly visible, sometimes underground—but always active. A Future and a Hope Jeremiah 29:11  reminds us: “I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord—plans for good and not evil, to give you a future and a hope.” Even when all we see is bare branches. Even when our landscape looks brown or stripped or cold. Even when we feel like the beauty has been stolen from our lives…God is still working. God is still faithful. God is still growing something. Sometimes the roots grow deepest in the winter. Closing Prayer: Lord, So often I focus only on what my eyes can see, and I forget that You are working in ways far beyond my understanding. Remind me that the greatest lessons You’ve taught me have begun on the inside long before they were visible on the outside. Remind me of Joseph—how suffering was part of a divine rescue. Remind me of Gehazi, whose eyes needed to be opened to the chariots of fire surrounding them. Open my spiritual eyes, Lord.Show me Your presence in every season. Plant deep in my heart the truth that You are for me. In Jesus’ name, Amen. Devotional Takeaway: Each season carries its own beauty in preparation for the next. _____________________________________________________________________________ This blog was taken from my book, Listen for His Whisper , a free download.

By Paula Williamson guest writer THE WALLS IN OUR LIVES The Call That Changed Everything One gray, drizzling afternoon just before dusk, I was visiting my parents when the phone rang. It was the hospital. My youngest sister had been in a serious car accident, and we needed to come immediately.They didn’t expect her to live. The drive there felt like I was drifting through a dream—slow-motion, heavy, and eerily quiet. Memories of our childhood played in my mind like a film, and a single, haunting question rose in me: “Have I ever told her I love her?” We had fought constantly growing up. Love was assumed but never spoken, never demonstrated. And suddenly those three little words became more important than anything in the world. Right there in the car, I whispered a simple prayer: “Lord… please let me tell her I love her.” When we reached the hospital, I was not prepared for what I saw. Blood on the linens. Blood on her clothes. Machines humming. My sister lying there in a coma. The nurse said she could hear us. She needed to know we were there. She needed to hear love. She needed touch—something none of us had ever been good at. We all stood frozen, like statues—my parents, and me. No one moved. No one spoke. We just stared, paralyzed by shock, fear, and years of emotional distance. Finally, a force stronger than my fear pushed through me. Almost as if God nudged me forward, I reached for her hand—something I had never done in affection—and the words burst out: “We love you. We’re here.” I don’t remember much after that moment. Only that God used that day to begin changing me. I made a promise to myself and to the Lord that I would never again leave the people I love wondering how I feel about them. Even though it was awkward—and even though I grew up in a family that did not show affection—it began to grow, little by little, as I asked God for the courage to love out loud. Corrie ten Boom once said that our lives look like tangled knots from our side, but from God’s side, a beautiful tapestry is forming. That day wove a golden thread into mine. Not long after the accident, God taught me something again—but this time through two tree, one as frozen as we stood that day in the hospital room and the other free, and unrestrained. I was stopped at a red light on a crisp Autumn morning, staring at a glowing Arizona Ash that had turned the most magnificent sunflower gold. As the wind brushed its branches, the whole tree shimmered and danced like it was alive with joy. But then my eyes drifted to the right. Another tree stood just a few feet away. Same type. Same day. Same season. But three walls enclosed it. Its leaves were dull, barely changing color. Only the topmost tips could catch the breeze. The rest of the tree stood stiff, untouched, unmoved—cut off from the wind. And in that instant, God whispered to my heart: “This is you.” I was a cautious, guarded person—more comfortable with logic and predictability than vulnerability and risk. I had built walls around my heart to protect myself from people who hurt me or might hurt me.But God gently showed me: “The walls you built to protect yourself are now limiting Me.” Behind walls, nothing gets in, but nothing truly gets out either. Just like that walled-in tree, I wasn’t reflecting the beauty, movement, and freedom God wanted for my life. I could survive there… but I couldn’t  shine  there. My memories rushed back to the hospital room—all of us standing like stone soldiers, paralyzed—but how God helped me step out from behind those walls long enough to reach for my sister’s hand. Yes, it was outside the normal, the comfortable. .Yes, it was unfamiliar. But it was also the first time I felt the wind of His Spirit moving freely through me. I realized then: Living wall-free is risky—but it’s worth it. I wish you could have seen the contrast of those two trees that day—one ablaze with glory, dancing with the wind… the other standing stiff and sheltered, only its “very top tips” moving. Both were trees. Both were planted. Both were loved and created by God. But only one was free. Which one feels like your life right now? As I sat with this lesson, the Lord gave me a poem to help me remember: Walls We began to build the walls in our lives When we were very small—Words that hurt us, people that left us, Things we didn’t understand at all. Brick by brick the walls went up: Anger, resentment, hurt feelings, pride. They grew higher and stronger and deeper, Keeping us safe inside. They became our home Built by our own hands, And the choices that we chose. Brick by brick, stone by stone, The vast brick walls arose. What we did not know or understand Was what they would cheat us of, Not only the bad, but also the good, They would limit the God of love. It’s time to take down the walls, Let us remove them one by one. It won’t take long before we see, We are letting in the Son. Our lives can begin anew, Each memory He can heal. If we allow Him to transform our lives And trust Him—I know He will. Jeremiah 18:4 (NLT) “But the jar he was making did not turn out as he had hoped, so the potter squashed the jar into a lump of clay and started again.” Our God is the God of second chances. He restores. He rebuilds. He heals. Do you have broken things in your life and heart that need to be placed in His kind and loving hand? Closing Prayer: Lord God,I surrender before You in humility and trust. Give me the grace and courage to remove the walls I have built—the walls that limit Your work in my life. You know every disappointment and every wound that caused me to hide. I do not want to live behind those walls anymore. Make me like the tree that dances in Your breeze, reflecting Your glory in every season. I release the hurts. I choose to forgive. Heal my mind, body, and soul. Shape me into the image of Your Son. My trust is in You alone. In Jesus’ name, amen. Devotional Takeaway: Life and freedom begin when we live in and through Him without walls. _____________________________________________________________________________ This blog was taken from my book, Listen for His Whisper , a free download.

By Paula Williamson guest writer An Unforgettable Visit One night, I had a dream I will never forget as long as I live. Without a single doubt, I know God used that dream to reveal His Holiness to me. In the dream, I knew that God and Jesus were coming to my home. As I prepared for their arrival, two Scriptures rose vividly in my heart: John 14:23 Jesus answered, “If anyone loves Me, he will keep My word; and My Father will love him, and We will come to him and make Our home with him.” Revelation 3:20 “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me.” I remember thinking I didn’t need to do anything special to get ready. I believed my home was clean. I’ve always lived with a deep awareness that God sees and hears everything I do, and I didn’t think there was anything in my house that would shame me. I felt excited, eager, and proud that I was “ready” for an unexpected visit from the Lord. Then the doorbell rang. And what happened next left me undone. Have you ever driven straight into a sunrise or sunset, and the light was so blinding that you couldn’t see anything at all in front of you? Now magnify that by a million—no, by a  zillion —and you might begin to imagine the brilliance that met my eyes. The moment I opened the door, all I could do was bow my head. I could not see into the face of God or Jesus, but I instantly knew who they were. Their radiance was overwhelming. They never spoke out loud, yet their presence communicated everything. I looked down at myself and saw stains covering my clothing—stains I never noticed before. Shame washed over me. As I led them toward the kitchen, every step they took revealed more filth: dirt I had never seen, grime that had been invisible to me until  Holiness  entered the room. I opened my cabinets. Every dish was fouled. Every glass looked like a filthy slide under a microscope. My silverware was unusable. My home—my “clean” home—was exposed for what it truly was. No amount of scrubbing or human effort could have fixed it. My wallpaper showed stains. My ceilings were marked. Everything about my house, and everything about  me , felt undone. They sat silently at my table while I desperately searched for anything worthy to serve them with. The only things untouched were three breadbaskets hanging on the wall. Instantly, I knew they symbolized the Father, the Son—the Bread of Life—and the Holy Spirit. They alone were pure. They alone made me acceptable.None of my works, none of my efforts, none of my self‑made “cleanliness” mattered.  Only the Trinity—God Himself—was untainted. I woke up suddenly, my heart pounding, sweat pouring down my face. It was a sobering revelation of my life, my efforts, and my own inability to make myself clean. When we finally stand before God’s holiness, no flesh will boast. No human effort will stand. No wonder people in Scripture fell at His feet the moment He appeared. Holiness reveals everything—and it reveals us. I realized the only things I will ever have to present to the Lord are the things  He  has done through me by His Spirit. Not my sacrifices. Not my striving. Not what I “cleaned up.” He doesn’t need us—He chooses to include us. Jesus didn’t need servants to fill the jars with water at the wedding in Cana. With one word the jars could have filled to the brim. But He allowed simple people to participate in His miracle. Why? Because He created us for relationship, for partnership, for companionship with Him. The things we do in our own strength are wood, hay, and stubble.The things we do in obedience— with Him —are eternal. Oh, let’s not settle for less. Let’s not offer the world artificial fruit.The world is starving for the real thing. Let’s show them who our Lord truly is, and what He longs to do through His people. He must increase, and I must decrease. Closing Prayer: King of Glory, Father of Life, settle this truth deep within our hearts. Even Jesus, the King of Glory, did only what He saw You do. Teach us to open our ears, our hearts, and our minds to hear the whisper of Your voice. Forgive us for pride and for anything that steals Your glory or dishonors Your name. Cleanse us with Your holy presence.In Jesus’ name, Amen. Devotional Takeaway: The Holy Trinity—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—is all we need.He alone is more than enough. _____________________________________________________________________________   This blog was taken from my book, Listen for His Whisper , a free download.

By Paula Williamson guest writer Rain and Shine! Some of my days are filled with sunshine, others, with rain. Much of my life has been difficult, yet I am thankful that I know God and that He never lets go of me. There was a season when I saw history repeating itself through my children. It was as if I were watching my life replayed, but now my children were in the adult role. Removing the blinders from my own eyes was both painful and gut-wrenching. Owning what I had passed on to them was devastating. Writing has always been a way for me to release what lies deep inside, and that day, the words poured out in a gut-wrenching poem I titled  “Boundaries.” I had lived without boundaries, and my children repeated what they had learned. Sharing the poem with a mentor during Celebrate Recovery, I remember him calling it a “visceral cry” from my innermost being, holding nothing back. He mentioned something about God and oblivion. I didn’t fully understand at the time, but those words lingered in my mind all week. When a word continues to echo, I’ve learned it’s often the whisper of God, and I should take the time to listen. I looked them up. Visceral —deep emotion involving the soft parts of the body, including the heart and stomach.Yes. That spoke my language—so much grief and distress trapped inside of me. Oblivion —a state of being entirely forgotten or obliterated. I also looked up  obliterate : to destroy completely, removing all traces. At that moment, what had been a blur came into focus. Hope stirred in my heart. Tears ran down my cheeks. I sat quietly and remembered a scripture: “Surely he hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.”  — Isaiah 53:4-5 I thought back to when I invited Jesus into my heart as a twelve-year-old. I remembered the instant I felt clean, forgiven, and wholly accepted. If He could do that for me, could He not also blot out and remove all the pain consuming me over my children’s suffering? With the faith of a child, I asked Him to perform an  “oblivianectomy.” Yes, I made up that word—and it is a good one! Before I even finished the thought, it happened. The heaviness, the grief, the sickness of my stomach—it vanished. Instantly. I was stunned, like a child in a candy store, amazed at the freedom flowing through me. I began to name every painful memory I could remember, and one by one, they disappeared. My heart was free. Their pain was gone, vanished without a trace, carried off by the Lord’s power. I imagined them leaving my body, wrapped in gauze, fading into nothingness. It was a  rain-and-shine day , grief and healing mingled, sorrow and joy walking hand in hand. That day reminded me that Jesus not only washes our sins but also lifts the burdens others have placed on us. Our hearts, our souls, our bodies can be completely cleansed. Scripture Reflection: “Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”  — Philippians 3:13-14 A Closing Prayer: Heavenly Father,Thank You for Your mercy, for Your grace, and for Your power to heal. Wash away my burdens, my grief, and all that weighs heavily on my heart. Help me to release the pain of the past and walk forward in Your freedom, trusting You to bring light even in the rain. In Jesus’ name, Amen. Devotional Takeaway: He gives us beauty for ashes and is just waiting to turn the rain into sunshine. _____________________________________________________________________________   This blog was taken from my book, Listen for His Whisper , a free download.

By Paula Williamson guest writer A Wagon, A Boy, A Teacup, and Mercy One day, my grandson attempted to assemble a Radio Flyer wagon for his soon-to-arrive sibling. He is only seven and had to use a wrench and screwdriver at the same time to fit the screws and nuts. Determined to do it all by himself, he wanted to surprise his dad. I was sitting on the front porch, spending time with the Lord, when I heard him in the garage—grunting, fussing, and tossing things in frustration. I paused, prayed, and considered when to intervene, but something in my heart told me to wait. Then I heard it: “MERCY!” That’s the name my new grandchildren had given me. Instantly, I ran. I listened, offered a little guidance, and returned to my porch. Soon, the grunting and fussing resumed. “This is too hard!” he yelled. The Lord reminded me how often I had felt the same way when tasks seemed overwhelming. Moments later, another call: “MERCY!” I ran again, pointed out the problem, offered encouragement, and went back to my quiet time. As I sat, God began speaking to me so clearly. He showed me a bigger picture of Himself than I had ever seen. I realized how often I try to squeeze Him into my “mommy mold”—wanting Him to fix everything instantly, prevent pain, and provide answers like a superhero. But God gently unfolded His plan, showing me, the lessons Brendon needed to learn through this experience. Before long, the calls came less urgently. “Mercy,” he said, smiling from ear to ear, proud of himself—and I was proud of him too. I noticed a piece that belonged in the back, but I hesitated to tell him. I knew if I intervened, I would rob him of valuable lessons in patience, endurance, and problem-solving. God began showing me how often I respond the same way during trials, doubting Him or blaming Him when things seem hard. Brendon didn’t know he was learning lessons in perseverance, fine motor skills, patience, love, and diligence. And I didn’t need to fix everything; I only needed to encourage, guide, and let God work through the experience. Later, Brendon asked for hot tea. He loves tea served in my little China teacups. But today, he was confused: the tea wasn’t warm like yesterday. “You lied!” he exclaimed. He thought the cup itself should heat the tea. I listened silently and realized how often I misunderstand God, expecting Him to act exactly as I imagine, forgetting His ways are higher than mine. We both laughed, over and over, as the truth of the situation became clear. And with laughter came the strength and courage to finish the wagon. When Brendon finally showed it to his dad, the pride and joy on his face—and mine—were indescribable. That day, I learned precious lessons about patience, trust, and God’s discipline. Just as He guided Brendon, God gently guides us, teaching us endurance, love, and faith. Scripture Reflection: “And have you completely forgotten the encouraging words God speaks to you, his children? He said, ‘My child, don’t ignore it when the Lord disciplines you; don’t be discouraged when he corrects you. For the Lord disciplines those he loves, and he punishes those he accepts as his children.’”  — Hebrews 12:5-6 (NLT) A Closing Prayer Heavenly Father,Thank You for guiding us gently, even when we struggle or feel frustrated. Teach us to trust Your timing, to learn Your lessons, and to grow in patience, endurance, and love. May we recognize Your hand in every challenge and celebrate Your victories in the small and ordinary moments of life. In Jesus’ name, Amen. Devotional Takeaway: God often teaches us through ordinary moments—through tasks, frustrations, and even little mistakes. When we wait, listen, and trust Him, we learn patience, perseverance, and the joy of seeing His work in our lives. _____________________________________________________________________________ This blog was taken from my book, Listen for His Whisper , a free download.