WRITING on the WALL

When we see this phrase we think of warning as in the original biblical story.

Carol Slama is an acclaimed writer and speaker, and calls Alaska home even though she’s also lived in Hawaii. Every winter when Anchorage temps drop below zero, Carol questions her decision to leave the tropics.  Her first suspense novel, Shroud Of Silence, was published by Bethany House Publishers.  

Carol shares a touching story:

Our five-year-old son Max hurried downstairs for breakfast still in his pajamas. Max had just finished his first week of kindergarten and he was excited to learn to read.
“Mom,” Max said, his blond hair spiked in all directions as he slid into a chair in the kitchen nook, “God’s writing me something.”
“What do you mean?” I said, setting the waffles and syrup on the table .
“At night, sometimes, he writes on the wall.”
“There’s writing on your wall, Max?” I was quick to ask.
“No. Not now. You can only see it at night and I can’t read the long words.”
His earnest look .told me he was serious. “If it happens again, do you want me to read it for you?” .
Max nodded vigorously.
Prayer said, I said. “Okay, when you see more words, call for me and I’ll come to your room.”
Worry lines now gone from his face, Max hiked up the sleeves on his Batman pajamas and ate.

That evening I was on alert, but no little voice called out. The next morning I asked Max if any words had appeared.
“No,” he said . “He didn’t write last night.”
I gave him a hopeful nod, not wanting to discourage him. 
Three nights later, just before I drifted off to sleep, I heard a loud whisper coming from the boys’ room. It was Max. “Mom! He’s writing.”
I woke my husband and we hurried down the hall. My heart raced.
Max pointed and there, in a long, bright four-inch wide line was what looked like letters being written on the textured wall. I tried to make out words, letters. Then, I breathed.
“Max, honey, you know what, that’s the moonlight coming in under the window blinds and see, the tree branches are moving so it looks like writing.”
“Oh,” he said, disappointed. “So God wasn’t writing to me.”
My heart went out to him and I held him tight. He’d been so excited to hear from God—a message just for him. “Max, who made the moon and the trees?”
“God.”
“Right. And what he created made you think of him. I can just see him smiling, thrilled that your first thought was of him.”
Max lifted his face and nodded.
I picked up the children’s Bible on the floor next to his bed. “We don't have to wait to read His writing. We can read what he wrote us and talk to him anytime.”
And right then and there, we did just that. Reading a message that God wrote… just for Max, just for us, just for you.


Isn't it wonderful to realize we can also read God's message to us and know every word is true?


*  Rita Stella Galieh is a scriptwriter and co-speaker on Vantage Point, a 5 minute program broadcast throughout Australia. She is now with the Living Word Literary Agency and at a "waiting state" for a publisher to accept her manuscript. As a contributor to several US Anthologies by Adams Media, she has two Historical Romances published by Ark House Press. In a few days she and her husband are leaving for ministry in Buddhist Government schools, prisons, hospitals, shopping malls, and churches in Thailand. She'd value prayers for health and safety in travel.

http://inspirationalromance.blogspot.com  
Follow me on Twitter  @RSGalieh