Note from Laura

The Lord has a habit of asking me to release and surrender.

Seven years ago I had a baby at my breast and a beading tray on my lap. The Psalm 23 Bracelet© was a surprise hit and I was left to assemble the many bracelets for orders around the globe. Honestly, I knew I couldn’t do it alone. And yet I fought God (and my husband) at the idea of hiring someone to help. Who could possibly meet the expectations of a perfectionist? Certainly not the fourteen year old daughter of a dear friend! God asked me to trust Him and release my white knuckle grip on “my” creation and surrender to Him.

Release and surrender are two separate actions. God first wants our grip loosed and then our hands opened, so He may place something in them. In those moments many years ago, I received the peace and joy that comes from having my baby boy in my hands because I was willing to give a fourteen year old girl at chance.

This week is another one of those release and surrender moments. Every week for the last six months I have brought fresh new writings of the ongoing work God is doing in me with the hopes it will draw you closer to His heart. God has called me once again to release and surrender. This time it’s my blog—at least for this week. Why? God’s spirit is moving through the “pen” of others as well. There are more stories to be read—I can’t live them all. This week I release my hold off of “my” blog and surrender to God who has graciously placed in my hands a new grasp on what it means to trust Him.

The following was written none other by that same fourteen year old girl. Katie Coleman is a beautiful young woman who has found a special place in my heart. Who knew this same girl would be my first employee, first guest blogger, and one to write a message relevant to my journey today?—God knew.

I know you will be as touched as I was by her story.


I am a happy girl.

I dance in a golden castle.
Sunshine reflects off every angle.
My skin feels the warmth.
I am a happy girl.

But there were dark days too, you know—days when there was no evidence of the sun’s rays.

This is how it began…

It was bright all around me. A different light shone—artificial—but still bright.

He was pretty brilliant himself. He had a smile that reflected the sun. And so I basked in his light, as he did in mine. But as I soaked in his glow, my focus shifted. Gradually, I spent less time in the real sunshine and more time with him.

But you can’t depend on someone else’s light forever. Doubts would soon come alongside hurts.  Questions and blame brought silence—and more pain. That’s when darkness fell. The responsibility of becoming each other’s light grew heavy. This was a suffocating darkness. This was holding each other under pitch-black water kind of darkness. And it horrified me to realize I had lost sight of the sun.

But this awareness brought hope. If I could remember the sun, it was something to hold onto instead of the pain. Creeping back to the sun became my only option, but that meant releasing—surrendering my claims on this boy. Leaving myself in the darkness…and alone. Being alone is almost worse than being without the sun—


It was there, in my tar-like-alone-darkness, in which I waited. It did not take long. My eyes began to see sparks—things in me reignited. Laughter, innocence, and care free smiles were illuminated again as He, the Son, shifted back into my focus. Aches and pains remained, but at least I was closer and warmer next to my Son. I learned He never changes—He never moves. He is always ready to catch my world ablaze with His rays.

Releasing my grip on this boy and coming away from the artificial light was hard. Especially when I realized I was strangling him. But when I release, Light shines in.

I release, surrender, and repeat until light from the Son brings life to me.

As easily as I am distracted by shiny things, I know the Son outshines them all. Nothing compares to His rays. Nothing else can save me from the darkness.

Will you let the SONshine into your darkness?
Here or somewhere…be real. Share your journey.

Katie Coleman is a happy girl studying nursing at Azusa Pacific University in Southern California. She plans to attend graduate school to become a Family Nurse Practitioner. In fall of 2011 she will study global nursing in South Africa. She has a heart for women and children marginalized by society in need of physical, emotional, and spiritual healing.