Forty-some years ago, before the age of the internet, the Lord told me He wanted me to start writing pamphlets to share with others all the pearls He’s given me. Pearls gleaned through insights into His written word. And just pearls of wisdom accumulated through years of walking with Him. 

Share, He said. Get it out there.

Many years later, when blog posts became the new medium and the Lord was still waiting for those “pamphlets” to materialize, He said: “If you would just go through your journals, there’s enough material right there to write pamphlets for a lifetime.”

Oh, yeah, I thought. My journals.

I’ve been pouring my heart out in journals since I was a child. I probably have sixty handwritten journals going back many decades, each one chronicling not just my life’s journey but, specifically, my personal journey with God. These are pages filled with God’s counsel, His encouragement, His consolations and, yes, His correction whenever I needed that, too. Wisdom. Truth.

So drawing from the vast well of my journals just made sense. Just one problem:

Through the years…I kept getting sidetracked. Distracted.

I mean, yes, I’ve certainly written some, to be sure. And a few are posted right here on this site. But the full body of work the Lord and I have always envisioned has never happened—not yet, that is.

And yesterday—after a long silence on the subject—the Lord spoke these words to my heart:

“Divine alteration. Change in focus. You have enough in you to instruct others. Where are the pamphlets? I’m waiting. I’m patient. Do it. Tell others what I’ve taught you and don’t wait. So much wisdom locked inside you. Open the vault, Cinnie—your heart—and let the sage in you speak. I am the Sage. You are the instrument. Let Me bless others through the truth that resides in you.

I have purified you, molded you, taught you, healed and delivered you. Will you keep quiet? Will you remain silent? Will the stories die with you?

Open your laptop and pour out volumes and volumes of truth, tried in the furnace of affliction. You know what you are talking about when you speak, because you’ve been there, so you never pontificate. You simply share as a bruised one, even a crucified one who glories in her weakness. Because truly, in your weakness I have made you strong.

Play your harp, and like David’s harp, the strings of your music will soothe a broken world and heal. This is it. Your truth today. And I have spoken here, and you know it. Now what? Only you can decide, because the response to all I have just spoken is tied to your willingness to obey. And I am confident that The Day has come—at long last—that your answer will be yes, and that actions will prove the authenticity of your yes. Go in peace. It’s a lovely day outside. Enjoy it, daughter. You are blessed beyond measure because I have chosen you. Go.”

So this was the word of the Lord to me yesterday—on October 19, 2026.

But as I sat here in my office, just now, I said to the Lord, “Oh God, where do I even begin? You say there’s so much in me to share, but most of my pearls are just too sacred, too personal to share on an open forum like the internet. Show me what to do, where to begin.”

And boom. The answer:

My journals! Of course! The very source the Lord had already pointed me to decades ago.

So I got up from my chair.  Went straight to the safe where I keep my journals. Unlocked it. Randomly reached inside for the nearest handful. Grabbed three volumes. And I made my way back to my office to begin the search. But as I read, nothing hit me. Nothing noteworthy. So I kept searching. Turning pages—until there it was. One journal entry. And I knew instantly, “Oh! Yes, THIS is something I need to share!”

Just out of curiosity, I looked back to see the date of the entry:

October 19, 2001!

October 19, 2026—yesterday—was the day the Lord had spoken to me again about my commission to write these pamphlets.

Exactly 25 years later to the day.

No accidents.

God told me to open the vault to my heart. And today, here I was, opening a literal vault—the safe which contains my journals.

The vault is now open. Let’s go.

We’re traveling back to October 19, 2001…

I spent three pages in my journal that day just confessing my sin. I was so grieved.

As I read through the outpourings of my heart from 25 years ago, I will confess I was greatly encouraged to realize many of the things that weighed me down at the time are no longer issues in my life. By the grace of God, He has brought maturity into my life.

I will also confess—dear Lord, and heaven help me—that some things haven’t changed. Like… not even an inch.

Reading my journal from 25 years ago, I can only shake my head. What do they say? “The more things change, the more they remain the same“? Yeah.

I’m talking Distraction—with a capital D!

Here’s what I mean:

At the time, in 2001, I had become so focused on decluttering my house that the project became all-consuming. It began innocently enough. The Lord Himself had instructed me, “I want you to reduce your belongings by two-thirds.”

What?! Reduce my possessions by 2/3?! Seriously, Lord? I was shocked—at first. Then it became, “Wow. God said it! I’m on it! Full speed ahead!” In short order, initial shock pivoted into righteous obedience.

Then…don’t ask me how. Somewhere along the line…

Righteous obedience took a hard left, turned radical on me, and left me a woman possessed. I’d always dreamed of life so streamlined it was like a hotel room. Only the essentials. Just a bed, a desk, a chair, a cup, bowl and spoon. Just think of it! Wouldn’t that be glorious?

Of course, I didn’t really think my hotel dream life would ever happen. But the yearning was certainly real. And that yearning for a life of stripped-down simplicity, coupled with the call of God to reduce and declutter, drove me relentlessly onward.

Until one day, like Paul on the road to Damascus, the blasting light of revelation broke through. And I was stopped in my tracks.

Let me allow the pages of my journal to speak for themselves…

“The things of this world and making them look pretty take my strength, I’m expending my strength on them, with hardly a minute or even a second invested in making my relationship with You all it can be. I have allowed You to dwell in squalor (my sinful heart), while I run here and there prettying up my own home. You sit amidst the rubble of sin and idols in my heart, and I don’t do anything to make sure my heart, Your dwelling place, Your home, is beautiful, clean, lovely to look at.

I am so sorry, Jesus. Please, please forgive me, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, for allowing You to dwell in filth. This is the house that needs to be cleaned up first—this temple of my body, my heart, where You live. This is the house that needs deep, deep cleaning first, not the other way around. Not the outside first.

Look inside, clean your house inside, and the rest will be easy. Remove the trash from your heart, and you’ll be able to see clearly the trash in your house. I haven’t given You the seat of honor in my “house,” Your house, Jesus. There’s nowhere for You to sit. Even Your Throne has crap all over it, like fabric swatches, the newspaper, cups and glasses, and just trash, STUFF, my Day-Timer.”

END OF EXCERPT.

That was then. This is now. Today I’m decluttering once again. And I feel a prayer coming on…

Father, as I look back on the outpouring of my heart from 25 years ago, I thank You for how much progress I’ve made in my journey. However, as You and I both know only too well… I can still lose focus and get off track.  Help me, Lord! Let nothing rob me of precious fellowship with You, Jesus. Help me not to be so busy serving You, that I lose You in the process! How crazy is that, Lord? Let nothing draw me away from You! Keep my eyes fixed!

And next time Distraction comes knocking—oh, Lord!—help me not to answer the door!