I have learned that I am happy to share. Encouraging others is really important to me because I love people. God has created me to be a writer and I'm learning to express that through my experiences.
The truth about God that was revealed to me is that He is my Heavenly Father.
The first representation of God is your earthly father. My father was a wounded man who womanized, drank, was angry, and gave his love conditionally. So growing up I had learned to live a performance-oriented life.
by Kimberly Amici
You don’t have to be a writer to share your story nor do you need a large platform. There are everyday opportunities to influence others with what you have experienced. Whether it’s a brief encounter with a stranger while waiting in line, or a friend who finally opens up over coffee, your story can encourage, heal, restore, refresh and demonstrate the fullness of God.
Last Thursday, Circles of Faith gathered our local Women of Influence enjoyed a Women's Night Out. It was a wonderful evening that included worship, the connecting with friends old and making new, and you guessed it... we shared more stories. For those of you that missed the event here is an encore presentation of words and images that so blessed all of our hearts.
by Kristin Hill Taylor
“God, please let us become pregnant” was replaced with questions about what adoption would mean for us. This came after 22 months of trying to conceive. A doctor who knew far more than we did told us our best odds of getting pregnant would come with in-vitro fertilization – which was our self-imposed boundary to let go of trying to become parents biologically. We thanked him for the information and headed home.
by Toni Campbell
It had been one of those days. I was being pummeled from all sides–finances, work, the kids, and my estranged husband.My shoulders heaved uncontrollably as I wept, and the tears that cascaded down my cheeks obscured my vision to the point that I was struggling not to drive off the road. As I gulped for air in between the racking sobs all I could manage was, “Oh God, oh God, oh God!”
by Kimberly Coyle
My own story doesn’t have the flash or the dramatic appeal of these broken ones. It’s the story of a slow burn, how God scooped me up as a child fresh from my mother’s womb and how He carried me every day since. In my story, there is no conversion experience or years of running or dark night of the soul. There is three-year-old me singing my little songs to Jesus.
Before I had kids, I scrapbooked regularly. Greg and I would live life – and then I would document it. When I had one baby, I kept up with the scrapbooks pretty well. And, trust me, I took many pictures! Now, Greg and I are loving life with two kids, who are almost five and seven years old. But there’s not as much time for preserving memories in albums when we’re spending evenings at the soccer field, working on homework in the afternoons, and spending time with other families we love.