I snapped on Shakespeare’s leash and out we went for our lunchtime walk. We hadn’t gone very far when we came upon a snail making his way across the sidewalk, headed towards the road. I picked him up gently and returned him to safety. Halfway up the hill, we came upon another snail, crossing the sidewalk towards the road. I picked him up, too, and moved him to safer ground. “God, move me away from danger, from the folly of a closed heart and mind,” I prayed.
We walked on, Shakespeare and I, stopping wherever he smelled something intriguing, and me, humbling myself before God, asking Him to rescue me from myself.
The moon swung open the garden gate and came on in, taking a seat in the wicker chair. She sat there for hours while I slept—the mystery of the night unfolding around her. Just before dawn, she tapped at my window, inviting me to join her. I put on my robe and padded out to see what she wanted. There she was, in all her glory, singing to the flowers. They moved to the sound of her voice.
God reached out His hand to me, “May I have this dance?” He asked.
I giggled and took His hand. We twirled under the fading stars—a gentle breeze stirring around us. We danced our way into the new day, into the hopes and dreams nestled in my heart.
I sat beside the little stream that babbled at the foot of the hill. It splashed merrily on its way to find bigger streams to join on its push to the sea. It sang to me as it went along. “You’re rather small to be singing so boldly,” I said, and threw a pebble into the water. “You’re not much of a stream, you know.”
“Success isn’t measured by size, or strength, or power,” God said and sat down next to me. “Nor Is it measured by what you earn or what you own.”
“What is it, then?” I asked.
“Success is using your abilities and your talents in the service of others,” God explained. “Just like my little stream here.” A bird landed on a rock and took a sip of water that pooled along the banks as if to prove God’s point.
“No matter how small you are, you can do big things when you do them for others,” He said.
“What can I do to be of service?” I asked.
“I gave everyone something unique, a gift that sets them apart from everyone else. Let that lead your life,” God answered.
I listened to the stream’s happy song and thought of the song in my heart, the song God gave me. “I’ll follow that to help others,” I said and turned to face God, eye to eye—seeing His beautiful creation stretched before me, bathed in the warmth of the midday sun, cradled in His immeasurable love.
I am being blessed with a new chapter in my life—a new adventure. I am moving this month! I will be taking the month of March off from writing Soul Reminders in order to focus on all that needs to be done for a smooth transition.
Not only will I have a new home, but this month I will also have new work. My ministry is launching! You will be able to find me at Jenniferleighministries.com. Don’t worry, you won’t have to do anything to continue to receive Soul Reminders. Once I am settled, they will be sent to you from the new website.
I am excited to see what God has in store for me in the months ahead. I feel so deeply blessed.
Thank you for your friendship and your interest and support of my work of sharing God’s love. I appreciate you very much.
Blessed are the poor in spirit.
“Come and sit with me while I make my coffee, Jesus,” I asked. The morning was shaping up to be a chaotic one. As the water boiled in the kettle, I went on and on to Jesus about the things in my life that needed attention and what I was going to do to solve each challenge. He sat and listened politely.
The coffee ready, I poured it into my favorite mug. Are you going to keep pouring?” Jesus asked me as the coffee rose to the rim, ready to overflow.
“I like my cup full,” I said with a smile.
“But how can anything else get in if it’s so full?” He asked.
“There’s a lesson coming, isn’t there?” I replied. Jesus smiled.
I can’t teach you anything if you’re like your coffee cup— so full of yourself.” He answered. “You have to empty yourself and allow me to fill you. All those plans you’re scheming this morning? Let them go. Let me fill you with the answers.”
I nodded and sipped my coffee. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t being open to you this morning. I’ll empty myself and let you lead the way,” I said.
“I know just where to take you,” Jesus said and handed me His heart and His hand. The morning was now shaping up to be a wonderful one!
God’s word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.
My phone rang and broke the silence of the night, waking me from a peaceful slumber. Shaking the sleep from my mind, I answered it. No good news comes at this hour. I braced myself for what I was about to hear. When I hung up, I pulled on my coat and slippers and went out and sat in the garden, out under the crescent moon. “God, there’s a lot of pain and suffering in the world. It makes me wonder if you really exist.”
“If you need proof of me, don’t turn your back on me,” God whispered through the bare branches of the pear trees.
I looked up and saw the North Star shining brightly. “Then be my guide, God, in this darkness. Don’t let this sad news blind me to your light.”
God sat down next to me. “I’ll be the lamp for your feet, the light for your path,” He assured me. A shooting star raced across the sky as if punctuating God’s promise.
I looked toward the east at the faint glow of the coming sunrise. “Let’s go back to the cottage,” I invited God. “I’ll make us some tea and toast.”
We rose together and walked back hand in hand, our steps illuminated by God’s love.
(Rest in Peace my friend.)