Some might call me an artist, though I’ve had no formal training. One healing, happy place for me is when I dip my brush into all these vibrantly, different colors. With the fresh paint on the tip, I push the brush to the canvas creating lines, patterns, and shades, until a form emerges, and the picture begins to make sense. One of my favorite Greenville artists is the late, Guy Stevens. During an art festival, I poked my head into various studios in a downtown strip of shops next to the Reedy… Read More

Recently, a woman approached me in our church lobby in a secretive manner. “Psst. I know you write under the name Charismata. I’m sure you do that to give the glory to God and not yourself.” Chuckling to myself I thought, “I wish it were for such a holy reason.”I looked this woman in the eyes, smiled, and just shook my head. “Um. Not exactly. It’s an act of obedience. God told me to write under that name, because it’s a name He gave me. It’s more about identity, than me being… Read More

“How do you hear God so well?” or some version of that, is a question I often hear people ask me.  My usual answer is something like, “Well, God and I have walked together through hell and back, so I learned out of desperation to hear His voice.” I remember one such time with Jesus. In a type of prayer ministry I have received, through the guidance of the Holy Spirit, I was taken back to a horrific memory, and was desperately trying to visualize Jesus in that place with me. At… Read More

“Don’t drive hangry!” “Please forgive me for the things I said when I was hangry.” “Maybe I’m hangry or maybe everyone really is this irritating!” H-anger is real! As proof of this statement, yesterday morning I found “H-anger” in the Bible!  No really. I was in Isaiah…ISAIAH of all places…and found this gem: Look to God’s instructions and teachings! People who contradict his word are completely in the dark. They will go from one place to another, weary and hungry. And because they are hungry, they will rage and curse their king and… Read More

Snuggling up in a fuzzy, fleece blanket on a cold, wintry day in front of a crackling fire is one of my happy places. Give me some instrumental worship and a cup of hot tea, and I’m off into heavenly realms somewhere. As a woman, I love the concept of someone covering me with love and protection like that blanket. Sometimes though, I struggle to feel protected even when the blanket is offered by one I know loves me, and occasionally, I may still think the one bringing the blanket is coming… Read More