Fame

Sometimes divorce is as easy as opening a door, Son. Open it just a crack, and the winds of discontent and frustration can blow it wide open.

I hope God gives us windows in heaven.

Anyway, my faith’s what drives me. God and I are sort of best friends, I guess.

God wanted His people to be holy, not perfect. Holiness for God meant perfection, of course. But holiness for His people meant being set apart. Different.

Time and again as she prayed about this day, this moment, she’d asked God for wisdom.

Things were good in her life—very good. God had spared her in more ways than one, and now she was exactly where she belonged.

Praying about something didn’t mean you’d wind up pulling yourself out of the world.

But as she lay there awake she wondered at herself. If she really was desiring God’s will, then she’d have to listen carefully. Otherwise she wouldn’t hear Him above her own excitement.

She and Peter had been through counseling, and they understood that parents can only do so much to protect their children and that ultimately they belong to God first.

Every word she says, every step she makes, I’m reminded of the truth—that God still works miracles among us today.

There’s nothing like watching your children grow up, watching them become the people God created them to be.

Together they would sift through the details of their children’s lives, rejoicing over the positives and reflecting on the areas that needed more prayer. They would laugh at the funny things the grandchildren said and comment about how fast they were growing up. Elizabeth would remind him that all of life went far too fast, and John would agree. The evening would fade, the sun would set, and they’d have the night to share each other’s company.

It would be a year next Monday, a year since she’d left them. More and more he found himself reliving her final weeks, that crazy emotional roller coaster when the best and worst of times came together in a kaleidoscope of dark shadows and brilliant colors.

When Elizabeth was alive he had felt young and vibrant, perfectly intent on living another thirty years by her side. But these days he felt slow, tired, as if half his heart had stopped beating right along with hers.

The words she’d felt God impress upon her heart a few minutes ago came back: Daughter . . . hear My voice . . . know Me.

Sleep came slowly, the way it had for the past year. But when it caught him, it was with good thoughts, happy thoughts. Thoughts of a lifetime of love with the greatest woman he’d ever known.

But when they finally found each other, when it was clear that God was going to give them a lifetime together, they’d made a promise to Him and to each other.

With a window in heaven, she could celebrate our good times with us and pray for us when things are tough.

Suddenly everything the Lord had laid on her heart made perfect sense. What had she felt before when she prayed about taking the part? That God would give her a sign, right? And now it was the same thing all over again. God wanted her to hear His voice, to know Him. And how better to know Him than by knowing what He wasn’t, where He wasn’t?

She felt the loss, much as he must’ve been feeling it. There would be no friendship forged, no chance at love. The canyon between their worlds had proved greater than any bridge that might’ve spanned it.

I mean, maybe I’d be a safe person for you, someone you could talk to without worrying that the press was going to capture every minute.

Innocence was something that grew in the heart and shone through the eyes.

Daughter . . . above all else, guard your heart.

If God wanted her to guard her heart, then that meant He wanted her to be careful.

I’ve asked God to make it clear. He can either shut the door or open it. I don’t want it unless He wants it for me.

Light wasn’t enough to chase away the darkness today.

She’d simply pray for a chance to talk to Dayne, and maybe in the process he’d find his way back to the faith his parents had taught him. It was one more reason God must’ve allowed this opportunity.

God Please now my future see make it clear where I should be. Open the window close the doors not my will my God but yours - Kart Hart- Fame by Karen Kingsbury

Her mother had raised her to believe that lying was one of the worst things a person could do.