 An intercessor’s life is peculiar. We require a lot of quiet and reflective time, praying, fasting, pushing aside things—sometimes important things—in a moment’s notice when the Holy Spirit prompts. We are dedicated, reliable, sensitive, sacrificial, and disciplined. Some of the requests, places in the spirit world the Lord wants us to stand-in-the-gap over, can be wild stuff. We are enabled to see through God’s eyes regarding particular details. Sometimes we get a glimpse of the fruit of our labors, oft times we don’t, but we do this thing called intercession anyway. I love my life of intercessory prayer because it’s more time spent with the Lord. The process heightens how we hear his voice; it expands how we depend on him. And it’s for the sake of others. Heart for God; heart for his people. But we’ve all had our struggles with the calling.
The hardest part for me is finding balance… the fine line between being empathetic while you’re pouring yourself out over an assignment and investing in someone else’s spiritual journey, and remaining objective so that the process doesn’t consume you. Intercessors often operate under a sense of need to help others. It gets heated, intense sometimes, especially when coming against principalities and demonic warfare. It’s emotional. I am an all-or-nothing person. This makes me a committed and fervent prayer warrior; also, a basket-case when an assignment lifts or concludes, where I’m wandering about without aim or inspiration. We have to learn how to trust in between commitments, stay prayed up and not let our guard down, and be obedient in letting go. For it all belongs to the Lord, from the beginning to the end. Occasionally I’ve had assignments I wish I hadn’t, with awful warfare, and felt relieved to get through them. Yet the biggie for me more often is letting go. Because I still feel tied to circumstances and people I’ve prayed for, in a personal way—especially if it lasts for months or years. An example of this is when, not that long ago, a maritime assignment lifted. My spiritual obligation over this one lasted quite a while, and it was a journey, as some of you might already know. It began with the Holy Spirit alerting me to specific seaports, then ships and crewmembers. And I prayed over a whole gamut of conditions and seafarers (also floating church planting and port outreaches). Near the end of this task, the Holy Spirit would give me the name of a ship and where geographically it was positioned. Found these nifty little apps that can track ships, so discovering each of these named vessels was like a treasure hunt, and a joyous confirmation of the Lord’s lead. Each called out ship was exactly as the Lord said it was and where. He also gave me Words of Knowledge to understand what the vibe was on board, the spirits, the challenges, the sailors… and sometimes who might the Lord want covered in a specific way. I knew via the Holy Spirit when he gave me the name of the latest vessel, that it would be my last—at least within this format at this time. Understood that my prayer voyage here would lift at this ship’s next port. It was so very sweet when I discovered my last port of call would be Seattle. My hometown. I’ve lived in East Tennessee for so long it’s home to me now, too. But I grew up in Seattle. It’s still my home. I prayed, and watched via satellite in real time, as the tugboats came along and assisted this vessel into the Port of Seattle—arrived! It felt like a homecoming party. I celebrated. And these people, this crew, had no idea a crazy intercessor was praying for them, watching them, fasting on their behalf (or maybe they did, as the Lord told me there were firm believers on board). I always wonder, does somebody sense it when a prayer warrior across the oceans has gone up to bat for them? Fasting and praying, fighting and rejoicing? Probably many someone’s, as I’m not the only spiritual-crazy out there. But… then it was sad for me to let go. I felt invested in the task. I also stretch and grow during these times. The Lord takes me through a journey, asking if I’d do this or that, how much am I willing to commit, how far will I follow his lead? I also have to press in sometimes for clarity, just to understand if I’d heard God correctly. By the way, the Lord has a very special love for seafarers. They were his first choice as his disciples. Well, another commission came fast on the heels (stern) of that last ship. For the Lord clarified that many in my missionary/ministry circle were in or are walking into a new season. We are all in different seasons; rather, varying places within the same season I’m inclined to think. But it seems almost everybody I know has been in a series of whirlwinds to prepare, get ready, and launch or expand into something greater, different, or newer. I’ve been watching and interceding over these launches, committed to holding their arms up like Aaron to Moses and prayed as the Spirit guided. I get to pray often for those beginning new ministries—and I love that. While praying on the phone with somebody recently who was experiencing frustrating hindrances, I got a vision, and in fact had the same vision for a handful of people. We prayed it through, knocking down the demonic gatekeepers and obstacles, and asked for an angels’ charge to carry them onward. We received instant results. Thank you, victorious and glorious God! Now, many of those I know who are being sent have begun, are all set; at least for now. And I rejoiced. I also grieved. I spend much of my time uplifting others, interceding for others, watching them go, and celebrating with them. And I’ll be there for them when they need a supportive, praying sister. But sometimes, the lowly human in me gets caught up in the flurry and then feels left behind. I wish I was the one going. I wish I was commissioned to go out in the field. I’d had that calling once. Perceived God’s call into ministry when I was a young child. Later answered the call and went into full-time ministry through Christian performing arts and worldwide missions. I really enjoyed the field, thrived in challenging environments and all. It was a good fit for my fundamental nature of yearning to absorb adventure, travel, and that deep love for different peoples and cultures. I flubbed up when I stepped away from that path, when I never should have—and God didn’t ask me to. Rather, I didn’t seek him, just did my own thing. I’ve since come to terms with my decisions/mistakes that put a cement stop to all the “moving around” kind of ministry. Repented. Made good with serving the Lord in the best way that I can under my circumstances. I’ve sought his face, pursued his heart. I’ve been obedient. Have written a lot. Realized that I’d learned things I wouldn’t have had I not gone through the erring and wandering ways. Found humility in a place of despair, among a myriad of better things from a firmer Biblical perspective. The entire development has made me stronger. For that, I’m grateful. And I feel called again. Actually, I’m not sure the calling ever left… even if one walks away from it for a time (a long time) in life. For in Romans 11:29, it says, “For the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable.” Irrevocable: “not able to be changed, reversed, or recovered; final” So, no, maybe I’m not picking up on somebody else’s radio frequencies. They’re my signals, intended for me. If the Almighty called me once, the call is still there. And stirring. One of these days, it will be my turn to go, to embark again on a very real-life, real-time, hands-on way, and he’s going to blow my mind when he does it. And instead of my saying with spiritual eyes, “He’s doing that thing over there.” It will be with both spiritual and natural eyes, “He’s doing this thing over here,” and I’ll be reporting about it from somewhere online. When my confession grows into my testimony. Last Thursday, another call-to-prayer over someone lifted. Right after, a cloud of oppression dropped over me. It was heavy, thick crud, and I couldn’t shake the rot off. And that’s just like the creepoid enemy; when the devil sees a vulnerability, he’ll seize the opportunity. Lasted for several hours. It was all I could do to listen to worship music and utter (even when I didn’t feel like it) “Thank you, Jesus.” Then the attack cleared with a snap (hey, maybe someone from afar was praying for me! Sure felt like I had help, and if so, thank you…) and I praised the Lord freely. But I did ask then of my savior, “Lord, what’s next for me?” And I didn’t mean a prayer assignment from my confined seat or closet. He gave me a vision. I saw a fortified, thick-beamed entranceway. I’d been in a dark space, and this large, bold door appeared. It was holy. I think it was already there, but it only just became visible to me. There were two tubular neon-ish lights, each distinct, yet wrapped around the door and pulsating together like the aurora borealis. I could also hear and feel the pulsating energy. The one in front was rich red, the one behind was sapphire blue; the thick frame between was white. So it appeared like a living triplet of stripes… two separate and distinct colors welded together and supported by this strong inner/middle white frame. Through to the other side, steps away, was bright, beaming, living light; fluctuating and revolving as if a hundred lighthouses of holy fire. It sliced darkness. Took my breath away, especially with the sense of purpose and joy that came with this powerful vision. I wanted more, to learn more. In one word, I asked him, “Lord?” And he gave me one word for now: “Apostolic.” And so there it is. You’ve heard it from me here. You’ll hear again from me from there. One day. Soon.  When Lana Applewhite skipped town after high school, from a small rural community bent for gossip, she meant never to return. Aside from getting jilted, she also sidestepped expectations to help run the family-owned candy store. Now ten years have gone by, and although she’s reluctant, her grandmother’s urgent plea brings her back home, only to discover news that has her reeling with indecision.
When she seeks out her childhood best friend, Beau Monroe, it’s as if things between them never changed. Yet beneath the surface, they have. Beau has kept a secret that may ruin their friendship. Steadfast yet shy, a man of few words, he’s missed every chance over the years to tell Lana… until now. Confessing his love to her may change everything. Then again, Lana just might have a secret of her own. Her Beau of Piney Cove is a clean and wholesome Southern Christian romance, my latest book freshly released. Available in digital and print formats with new stores added daily, grab yourself a copy… if it’s your cup of sweet tea.  A return of my Hearts in Africa series is here with installment #3 in a four-book sequence. Can also be read as a standalone. I’d written and completed this book years ago. Advice from an earlier publisher I had contracted with, to drop the romances and focus on their forte of suspense and thriller, had me file the manuscript away. I thought for good. But I’ve determined recently to resurrect this novel, along with others I’d completed and/or started yet never launched. In hindsight, I should have published this work back then and in order. Not that the advice given to me was off beam. I understand the marketing incentive, and also avoiding possibly polarizing my readers. The focus on one style or genre works well and for many people. However, I’ve felt hemmed in when I’m inspired to create in a variety of genres and voices (even POVs) yet have believed I can’t or shouldn't. I started wondering why I have to stick to a specific style. If God plants ideas and inspirations in your heart and soul, they need to be able to grow; not kept buried underground. Sometimes it’s a timing issue; sometimes it’s a choice. Maybe sometimes it’s both. Be faithful in the things over which you can choose. I’ve not allowed some of my works to grow much. If I’m compelled to write, finish, and edit a book, I ought to bring it to completion and release it, too--even if it's ten years later (knock on wood). Maybe that book is not for everybody, but it’s for somebody. So I’m following through by reassessing my stash of romance titles and more. Still working on my latest speculative fiction books, as well. They’ll all make their way down the pike, by God’s grace. If you’ve held back on some once-upon-a-time creative pursuit, maybe it’s your time to take another look at the possibilities, too. Without further ado, please welcome, Return My Heart, made available at online bookstores worldwide. If you don’t see your favorite bookstore listed after you click the button below, my distributor is working on it. The launch is that fresh. More outlets are being added each day, so be sure to check back. About the story: Lorelei moved to Kenya when she married Hugh Berrand, an animal behavioral scientist at Tsavo West National Park. After a year of marriage, she feels abandoned when she takes a backseat to her husband’s first passion, the maneless lions. Rejected by the field’s family of researchers, she suffers from loneliness and discord, especially when her husband is never there to support or defend her. After Lorelei is assaulted and left for dead at Shetani, the devil’s lava, she struggles to put the pieces of her existence back together; namely, the fragments of her fragile marriage. But her effort proves futile with a man who seems to prefer an independent lifestyle. When an unwanted child enters the equation, the Berrand’s separate. Each tries to rebuild life from broken strands apart from each other. However, God has something else in mind and works on the hearts of Lorelei and Hugh for restoration and love anew. Love, adventure, tragedy, redemption—all is at stake in the inspirational romance series, Hearts in Africa. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 There’s something about the holiday season that amplifies feelings of loneliness. Even if you aren’t a lonely person, you can miss those who you wish you could visit, yet logistically can’t. There are some who don’t have anybody at all. You might be yearning for a companion. Genesis 2:18 tells us it’s not good for man to be alone. Yet, meeting a person doesn’t fix things. Unless we’re already happy, and know who we are in Christ, another person could be double the trouble. We aren’t meant to be or to have human crutches, but be filled with purpose, glorifying God equally together, being fruitful, strengthening each other so that nobody needs crutches. Which leads me to the thought that maybe you have someone, but in that covenant, you’ve suffered. You can be right beside somebody, or in a crowded room, and yet feel like the loneliest person on earth. Observers might even believe you have the perfect situation, but you’re far from it. Or maybe you have a partner who is the epitome of a true helpmate from the Lord, and a blessing. But the truth is that even your closest can let you down at times. And then maybe you've lost someone, and loneliness is amplified by grief. All kinds of scenarios and relationships I could paint here. Whatever your picture, if (when) you find yourself alone, when everybody else from that crowded event is gone (Elvis has left the building), the only one still there is the Lord. The only one who was forever there, and will always be. He’s Number One. *When you’re longing and reminiscing, the Lord is there. *If you’re yearning and dreaming, the Lord cares, so tell him how you feel. Tell him your story. He already knows your heart’s desires but wants to listen anyway, and he’ll listen most attentively. *When others make you feel singled out and crappy by unkind or ugly remarks, the Lord won’t judge, only accept. While we’re at it, he doesn’t mind the added lines on your face, blemishes, or pudginess in your middle; he won’t see the way you’re wired as wrong or weird—because he created you! In fact, he made you in his image, and he loves unconditionally. Glance in a mirror. If you see somebody unlovable or hosting imperfections, consider saying to the reflection, “Well, Jesus loves me unconditionally. Thank you, Lord, for loving me like you do.” *If frail and imperfect human nature has caused you to feel lonely and invisible… Really, the only one who is perfect is Jesus. And Perfection considers You the Apple of His Eye. Shouldn’t it matter most what HE thinks of you? *When you're in sorrow, the Lord is close to the brokenhearted and will not forsake you. Only the Lord knows the inner workings of our hearts, our essences; he knows us inside out, yet loves us wholly, completely, perfectly. If you don’t have him, find him. He’s right there beside you and has been there all along. He’ll always make you feel like the most precious cargo, always. He will build up, never tear down. The truth is, he intended to be our closest friend. He’s the most beautiful truth. He eases loneliness and hurt like no other. Whatever your situation (there are so many), seek him, seek your Creator. He’ll not only comfort; he’ll delight in you. He’s eager for your company. I find the song posted below brilliantly relatable. It can apply to all kinds of relationships and situations. It’s relative. So for me right now, it’s a love song to the Lord. The only one who was with me from the beginning is with me always, no matter what! My constant companion. To him who sees all, knows all, takes it all, and ever loves. I think this just might be my new personal theme song.  Ever have an idea or vision that returns to you even if you’ve tossed the notion away? Has your spirit longed for something to the point of aching, an inner stirring, a restlessness, yet there are things present in your life that seem to block a single step forward? Maybe because of circumstances, you’ve accepted your current situation, tried to settle and forget about the vision and scrape it off the table, but the idea keeps coming back and coming back. Either by a subtle reminder, a tap on the shoulder, or a persistent nagging, recurring theme, or spurring revival of imagination and desire. Maybe the vision is huge, crazy, preposterous, or impossible. Perhaps that longing in your spirit is the prophetic call of the Lord on your life, awaiting fulfillment. Longing is our heart crying out for God and his purposes. And God does nothing half-baked. Sometimes we have to endure the process of his putting a unique assembly of ingredients together, kneading and shaping of the dough, waiting for the yeast to rise, and baking—not to perfection, rather, to the perfect time of readiness. This is us as we are put together, pressed and worked, to rise above, and bide our time in his kiln for the feast.
You’re called to a particular vision, a specific spiritual task if, after you’ve perceived it, you let it go, but it doesn’t let go of you. And you’re just peculiar, crazy, or credulous enough to believe in the vision, even if it seems impossible. God gets all the glory when it’s something only God can do. Even those who have been quiet and painstakingly baking, the Holy Spirit is calling you out of the shadows into the season of no more delay. Because in our minds, we can think things are delayed, but God is never late. At some point, by the Lord’s directive, our anticipated tomorrow will be today. From restless me to restless you, “Are you called, too?” |
Tessais a storyteller, and a transcript editor. She's also a Romans 8:28 kind of Jewish girl ... 
HER BEAU OF PINEY COVE
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