Bridges to Light

Last night, something simple happened — but I’ve learned by now, nothing with God is ever just simple.

I was playing with my poi flags in the kitchen when I bumped the table and knocked over a plant. Dirt spilled across the surface, covering a little notebook I hadn’t touched in months. Curious, I opened it… and my heart stopped.

It was from July 2024. A time when I was pleading with God to take someone out of my life who was hurting me. Every page was heavy with sadness, but even more than that — it was filled with prayers. Raw, aching prayers.

And I knew in that moment:
God was telling me the past has been buried.
That book? That dirt? That prayer?
It was done. Covered. Sealed. Let go.

Then came the morning.

I was driving and listening to a podcast that offered interesting insights but lacked something vital: the full authority of God’s Word. The speakers said we must explore things impartially, setting aside assumptions of what we believe the Bible is. I understood their point, but I also felt a deep stirring. That familiar pull — the one that says, Be careful, my daughter.

And then…

A car got in front of me. Its hazard lights flashing — but it wasn’t speeding, and there was no emergency.  It simply rode steadily… glowing…

On the back of that car? One single word: AUTHOR
Beneath it: 4.0 GPA.
And on the side? Again: AUTHOR 4.0 GPA.

It felt like God had marked that car just for me.  It was right in line with the podcast speaking about setting aside the Bible…  as if God gave me a literal sign:  “I wrote that book,” Don’t doubt it. Don’t forget it. And don’t you dare let someone else rewrite what I already spoke.”

And just when I thought the moment was over, another car pulled up in line — this one carrying the message:
“I hope something good happens to you today.”

Oh… something good did happen.
I heard my Father.
I saw His handwriting in motion.
And I remembered:

He’s not just the Author of the Bible… He’s the Author of me and you.
And He still writes. In real time.

Through dirt, through light, through stickers and signs.
Through every soft whisper and every sacred spark.

He is here.
And He is speaking.
Are we still enough to notice?

With Love,

April and Evan ✨️