Tuesday, October 4, 2011


the blood was thick and deep red. almost purple. my skin crawled. my heart ached. I looked up at the man standing in front of me, the man who had just pronounced death to my Savior. “someday you will realize what you’ve done and you’ll wish you had died in his place.” my voice caught as tears spilled and burned paths down my cheeks.

the crowds grew louder. I turned and looked. he was wearing a purple robe, thorns on his head. his face was bloody and I knew that under the robe his body was beaten and raw. I started running, calling his name. “Abba, my Abba…” I stopped short of throwing my arms around him. I knew it would cause him pain.

he didn’t stop. he drew me close, even as his face contorted in agony.

“I’m sorry, Abba.” I whispered into his neck. “I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”

his voice came then. rushing and running like a river. “I’m making all things new. Go, tell them.”

I looked up at his face. he was looking past me toward a field that sat below Golgotha.

I saw them then. hundreds of children playing in the shadow of a cross.

“Tell them, daughter,” he whispered in my ear, “tell my loved ones that I am making all things new.”


I woke up from that dream back in 2004. I was attending Bible School at the time and we had gone as a school to watch The Passion. That night I couldn't sleep even though I had watched the movie with eyes covered. I finally prayed, "God, let me sleep... I need to get up for school tomorrow." And that night I dreamed.

I had found my passion. It might have been a dream but it wasn't just a dream. It was God speaking. And anytime I close my eyes I can see them. The children playing in the shadow of a cross.

It was the winter of 2005. My floor was littered with graham cracker pieces, icing and candy. And five young girls with smiling and laughter. We were making "Cookie Houses" and talking about God's dreams for our lives.

I was in the beginning stages of Women of Promise, a mentoring/accountability group for young girls. It has grown and changed since those days but the purpose and heart is the same: to establish a place where girls are challenged to develop a deep relationship with God while they are still young.

I've always been passionate about WoP (as we affectionately call it) but the reason goes much deeper than just those five girls. It goes back to my childhood and the confused wanderings of a lonely twelve-year-old girl who longed for something real and deep to sink herself into.

The story of how my journey into God happened is something precious and lovely to me.

The knowledge of a God who calls lonely, confused twelve-year-old girls into a radical deep relationship that is spanning a lifetime.

I am passionate about young girls finding that. Finding something real. Not being left to wander aimlessly through a world that entices and pulls and leaves wounded aching women in its wake.

A Peek Into Your Passion at ylcf.org


Chantel said...

This is beautiful. May God bless you as you strive to fulfill your passion...HIS calling in your life.

thanks for sharing with us on YLCF!

Elisabeth Allen said...

Oh, yes, what a beautiful, meaningful passion! My heart says, "Amen!" Thank you so much for sharing ...