“Having come to know Jesus, we are forbidden to return by the way we came.” St. Gregory
The new year is approaching.
It’s right around the corner.
One moment, I’m sure of where I’m heading.
Another moment, I’m thinking, maybe it’s time to change course instead.
There’s a voice that’s not very loud.
There’s a voice that’s soft. Still.
Like a stone cast upon a pond standing cold in the winter, my heart thinks it’s resting when it feels a ripple cascade from the center.
Come back to me, Bonnie.
But, don’t come back the way you came.
I want you to journey ahead — by traveling another way.
Like the wise men who traveled long and hard, to follow the star that finally led them to Jesus, God is telling me in more ways than one.
It’s time for your homecoming. And I want you to return — by a different route.
Homecoming
I don’t know why I was crying so hard.
I told you last week, as I stood in the old, dreary kitchen of my childhood in a flashback, standing there maybe 10 years tall, hair still dripping wet from walking home from school, with my hand on the door of an empty refrigerator, my mind drifted to the scene where Jesus sat at the bedside of another little girl in the Scriptures. And how I imagined Jesus then taking my hand and leading me to a beautiful new home, with the morning light just breaking through into the kitchen — where he sat me at the table and served me a cookie on a plate and a cup of tea to warm my hands.
And as I imagined myself there, looking at His hands in this quiet place, I began to put my head down and just cried.
I don’t have anyone.
These words weren’t from the me-today, mom of two boys, wife to my sweet husband Eric who has loved me since he first held me in his arms and told me, “Just let me love you,” when I told him I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kiss just yet, one moonlit night when we still dating.
No, this was the little-girl-in-me who has carried this feeling of aloneness — that she never dared whisper to herself or anyone else. She wanted to be a good little girl, and good little girls should always ben thankful for what she had. Not saying things that might upset anybody.
As I cried, my therapist Dr. P asked, “What’s happening?…”
I didn’t want to talk about it. I was too busy crying.
Mr. Crichton
But, oddly enough, as I’m waiting for the tears to subside, my mind randomly drifts to another memory: the face of my fifth grade teacher. Mr. Crichton.
Mr. Crichton is one of those teachers people make movies out of. I entered fifth grade, not knowing my multiplication tables — and by the time I finished the year, I was already doing percentages and integers. Mr. Crichton was also the first teacher that took us on a field trip. I went to an elementary school that scores in the bottom 5% in the state, in a neighborhood where drugs and everything associated with those things are common place.
The first field trip he took us to was McClellan Ranch Park — a horse ranch owned by the McClellan family in the 1930s, still preserved with a working milk barn and livestock barn,with a natural reserve in the middle of the park: a famous birding spot.
I had never, ever seen anything like it before. The closest thing I could imagine such a place was on TV watching reruns — a place where Opie would go with Pa Andy — whenever his Pa took him fishing. Or maybe where Laura from Little House on the Praire would go with her Pa, who called her half-pint.
Here I was, just Bonnie with no nick-name riding on a bus to go to a ranch for the first time ever. And it was there, at McClellan, I walked my first nature trail, with Mr. Crichton as our nature guide. God, he looked like Andy Griffith to me. Mr. Crichton stood over 6 feet tall, wearing a soft cotton plaid button shirt, underneath a vest that had a gazillion pockets all over it, filled with stuff I imagined was very useful for being outdoors. And to top off his outfit, he capped his 50’s retro style, salt-and-pepper coiffed hair with what looked to me like a fishing hat.
And whenever he smiled, his whole face broke out in a sandy laugh that shook his entire body, from his elbows down to his knees — and he laughed in a way so big and free, you’d see he had a filling in the back of his molars. It made me happy because I knew that meant he was happy — and I couldn’t help but laugh so big, I’m sure he saw that all my molars were filled with cavities too.
The Letter
Mr. Crichton always had something nice to say to me. One day, when Mr. Crichton was teaching us social studies, he told us that anybody could write to the President. All we had to do was address it —
“To: President Ronald Reagan,
The Whites House
Washington D.C., U.S.A.”
— and it would get there.
So, I did. I wrote a letter to President Reagan. The President had just been shot and I told him I was praying for him, told him how important it was for him to believe in Jesus, threw in some Bible verses and gave him a few pointers on how to accept Jesus in his heart, so he could be saved.
And guess what? President Reagan wrote back.
Mr. Crichton was so proud of me. The local newspaper came out, took my picture and there I was, a celebrity for a day. He told me — “You should be very proud of yourself, young lady. You are very special. You are a good writer.”
But, I told him what my mom had said to me, “I’m sure everybody who writes to the President gets a letter back. Probably his secretary wrote it and that’s just stamped. That’s not his real signature.”
Mr. Crichton looked very serious now, took his reading glasses out of his pocket and looked very closely at my letter. And after studying it for a bit, he put his glasses down, and looking straight into my eyes, he said, “No, I think this is a very personal letter written to you. You can tell that he read your letter. I wouldn’t doubt that he signed it himself.”
“Bonnie… listen to me. Don’t ever doubt the accomplishment you’ve achieved. Do you understand?” He said it with concern and even with a little tough correction in his voice.
I wanted to believe him. I wished I could’ve believe him. But, he didn’t know me. Or my life. He was just my fifth grade teacher. Of course, teachers say nice things to their students.
I Wish
But, as I saw Mr. Crichton come back to life to me in this memory re-ignited, his voice as clear and crisp as the day I heard him say those words to me, his eyes clear and the chalkboard dust still fresh on his fingers as he handed the letter back to me, my throat thickened with tears and I began to cry.
Because as I saw myself standing there, I remembered what I felt — what I wished — right as I stood ten years tall with the letter in my hand, in the middle of this memory.
I wish he was my daddy.
I wish I could fall into his arms and have him hug me.
I wish I could whisper into his ear —
I wish I had a daddy. Like you.
The thought pierced my heart, and I began to sob with an ache in my chest that was too painful to remember.
I guess it was a truth too much for me to fully embrace as a little girl. So, I hid it away. This cry for a daddy.
But, why now, God? For a teacher who I never saw again after elementary school.
As I sat in the quiet and waited for the tears to subside, I imagined myself back in the kitchen with Jesus, sitting at the table with the cookie and tea next to me — His eyes full of sorrow and sadness for me — I understand why Jesus was trying to say to me.
I’m trying to tell you. How proud I was of you.
I was trying to tell you then — through Mr. Crichton.
I know you wanted to have a daddy.
I am trying to tell you now. I am your Daddy.
I loved you then.
I love you now.
Friends, this is the first memory — in my three years of therapy healing from childhood PTSD — that a happy memory has surfaced.
He Loved Me
Out of so many wounding memories that have been uncovered, this is the first time something beautiful has surfaced.
I can remember a moment where I was happy.
God is helping me recovery memories when He loved me. Quietly.
Unknown to the little girl back then, I am beginning to hear God’s whispers of love for me today — in the moments of joy and beauty that God — my Heavenly Father — gave to the little girl in me.
And Mr. Crichton is among my first ones.
More memories are resurfacing friends. Flashbacks to intimate, beautiful memories — that have been hidden behind the most painful memories — are now returning to me.
Returning to this world of pain, to journey through it — it’s what Jesus calls healing.
This journey of healing is my heart’s homecoming.
Reflect. The Christmas Story
I’m sure the wise men who followed a star in the sky for an unknown number of time expended a great many emotional, financial and personal sacrifice and expense to keep following the star — for so many unknown number of days.
You’d think having finally found Jesus, they would finally return home the way they came. In peace and with ease.
The moment they found Christ, they were overjoyed and ecstatic. They were able to finally give their gifts to Jesus and experienced the thrill of reaching their goal.
But, their journey wasn’t over. They could not return home the way they came.
They received news their lives were in danger. They had to go home another way.
If you’re like me, looking into the new year and wondering, how in the world will I navigate my plans in the midst of sudden changes?…
If you are burdened with anxiety, fearful it’s too late — that the journey of faith is taking too much time — with too many detours…
Jesus may be calling you to take a different route, to bring your heart to a new homecoming.
Respond. Share Your Heart
It takes courage to be loved.
It might seem easier to be the strong one.
To never need. Or dream.
But, God’s love sees beyond what we reveal to others – and sometimes dare to see in ourselves. God is Shepherd of our hearts. He sees it all. He sees us.
God whispers –
Let me love you.
You can be with me.
As is.
He opens his arms to hold us, when life’s imperfections wound us.
Sometimes, it’s hard to understand why we can’t just forget about our disappointments. Or our dreams. Instead, Jesus keeps pointing to the changes He wants us to make.
To be real. To be known.
These are not changes that are easy to check off a list. Expectations are a very painful thing to break.
We may not know how life will look like, but we can recognize the Voice of Jesus, who whispers —
Speak. In your full voice.
We won’t be able to explain very much. We may feel hesitant. Yes, even afraid.
But, we must go.
Because we want to go where God leads us.
Let’s go, as the wise men returned home – the other way — where the Shepherd of Our Heart calls for us to return.
It’s our heart’s homecoming.
Let’s make our way back where Jesus is at the center — back to where we are at home with Jesus — feeling safe and loved.
Let’s let God love us.
Pray. Our #OneWordAdvent Prayer Today
Dear Heavenly Father,
Give me courage to let you love me.
Help me return to you as a little girl.
Fold me into your arms in return.
Be my Guiding Star ahead.
Let Love Come Down one starry night years ago
Come true again in me today.
Be born in me again, I pray.
—-
How is God encouraging you — in that Quiet Voice — to let him love you?
What is the different route God is calling you to take?
Pull up a chair. Click to comment — Share your thoughts as we turn over a new year.
Merry Christmas, sweet kindreds.
I share today’s blog post as a gift from my heart — to thank you for sharing this journey with me, encouraging me this year, as we together released my book Finding Spiritual Whitespace, my heart bound in pages for you. Thank you for being a friend to me. May you and your loved ones experience Christmas to be as real and as loving to your soul as I am praying it to be true for you this year. God loves you deeply, irrevocably and I’m grateful we can discover this truth together, day by day, as our stories unfold. As is. love, bonnie
Give the gift of rest to a friend for Christmas. Order copy of my book Finding Spiritual Whitespace and receive some free gifts. Click here.
#OneWordAdvent Link Up
Whole-hearted Writing. You & Jesus.


Welcome to our special #OneWordAdvent Blog Link Up!
This week’s 12/24/15 #OneWordAdvent Prompt: love
** Special New Year 1/14/16 #OneWordCoffee Prompt:
What is your One Word for 2016?
OneWordAdvent is my invitation this month to do a Thursday weekly one word prompt writing challenge for you for Advent: hope, peace, joy, love.
* Thank you to Jamie@writinginthestillness for gifting her beautiful calligraphy just for our #OneWordArt badges. Please visit Jamie’s shop & browse her artistry! Use ‘whitespace15’ for 15% off until 12/31/15.
Join me. Here are two ways:
1. Link up your reflection on our #OneWordAdvent prompt at the end of Thursday’s blog post. Click the Link Up button below & share the specific url of your post (not just your website). You can also directly share a comment.
– Place the #OneWordAdvent badge in your blog post & link back to thebonniegray.com. It lets me know you’re part of this community. Download the badge by right-clicking your mouse on the image & click “save image”.
– Read the post before yours and comment. Let’s savor the journey together.
2. Share your photos or art using hashtag #OneWordAdvent on Instagram, Facebook or Twitter. Capture moments that speak hope, peace, joy, love to you.
May the writing prompt bring you to a quiet place in your soul as you share your voice. Click here for details.
#OneWordAdvent Spotlight
This week, I want to spotlight Anna Smit from Joy in His Presence, who share her thoughts on joy:
“I don’t know why, but joy for me is a mix of deep sadness and an overwhelming love that envelops me in the yearning of grief. It’s as if in stopping to rest in His Presence, I am overcome by His Knowing of me.”

from sabrina hart via Instagram: who shared how she’s grateful for God’s love this Christmas
Every week, I’ll spotlight a tagged #OneWordAdvent image from Instagram (like the beautiful one to the right) or blogger in our community. * To be considered as a spotlight blogger: please kindly be sure to use the #OneWordAdvent Badge and link back to Faith Barista in your post.
Kindreds, I can’t wait to see your photos & read your words. Thank you for sharing your voice.
photo credit: kelly ishmael @mindingmynest
23 Comments
Bonnie, this is so beautiful. Courage is a word I’ve been reflecting on a lot on lately: on how grieving takes courage, as does trusting Him on new paths as you bravely share here.
I’m praising God for this:
“God is helping me recovery memories when He loved me. Quietly.”
What a powerful God we have…breaking through the thickest darkness with His strong rays of Light.
Praying God’s deep joy for you and your family this Christmas and in the year to come. I am looking forward to reading more of the story God is weaving in and through you.
Only just seeing that you spotlighted me this week. What an honor and privilege. Thank you so much.
Thanks, Bonnie. And thank God Love came down over 2000 years ago to save all who believe on Him. Merry Christmas to your and yours!
Bonnie, I love when you share those God whispers with us. Merry Christmas to you and your family. Thank you for this opportunity once again to link up my blog and write on this word LOVE. It helped me to remember that God loves to reveal Himself to the lowly and can use us for His Kingdom purposes.
Thank you Bonnie for sharing how Jesus heals our memories, and changes our path… Before I read your email this a.m. I had written in prayer journal…”Lord, I am in distress. My life is (drew a circle that symbolizes futility/going in circles/coming back to the same conflict/ways). Make my life (drew a straight line with marks of progression/growth/purpose). These symbols came from a beloved teacher also… Bob Mumford ( Agape Road) … when I look at him I see my dad, but one who knows God, loves God and knows he is loved by God. Funny, your post also gave me a good memory of a school teacher. Report card day. Mine came back with a “C” in the class, and incredibly in my mind I panicked and cried because I believed my dad would be angry because it wasn’t an “A” or “B”… My teacher noticed, called me up, asked why I was crying and took the card in his hands and wrote a “B” instead. Someone saw me (Jesus) and gave me grace and love.
Wow, Carol… what an incredible teacher to have done that for you. I love that story. I’ve been thinking of teachers who influenced my life, and yours and Bonnie’s touch me deeply today! I’m glad I read your comment! 🙂
Thank you for sharing…I soooo needed to read this TODAY! God bless and Merry Christmas!
Thanks for this, dear friend (well, I think we would be dear friends if we lived a little closer ha!) For reminding me that I need to sit still long enough to receive God’s love – i’m usually frayed and storming about making sure others know He loves them ! (just ask Lisa) – so thank you for this timely Christmas present – 45 coming for soup and bread tonight – some not His (yet!) xx (Lord, hel . Amen)
Bonnie, I am so glad a happy memory has bubbled to the surface. Sometimes those painful memories can stuff them down so deep. The courage to be loved. Something I so need to remember. To open my heart wide for Jesus to enter even those deep, dark corners. Thank you for all your encouragement in this past year. Your transparent posts always make me feel less alone and more loved. I love the photo of your lovely family. May you all have a peaceful Christmas resting in the love of Jesus! Hugs!
Bonnie, such a beautiful story about your teacher and the letter to President Reagan! I’m so glad God brought it back to tell you of His love for you in it… I do believe the President wrote you personally – there are many stories of how he corresponded with children in particular, children he wanted to encourage etc. And I know he was a believer, so it wouldn’t surprise me if the Holy Spirit nudged him to say what he did to you! Divine appointments only God can arrange. And your dear teacher… may he somehow know how he touched your heart. Thanks for sharing in your beautiful words… you truly are a wonderful writer. 🙂
[…] into the nitty-gritty of your life, and to give you the hope of a future with Him in heaven. Bonnie’s OneWordAdvent focus for this week is love, and there’s none greater than the love Jesus showed. Will you love Him back this […]
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God is love and those who truly love others know God! Your vulnerability in the realness of your stories encourages me and your readers to see that we can be reborn again this Christmas day. He always desires our heart and I desire to give him that gift! I thank you Beloved Bonnie for the sharing of your journey it has helped me come closer to Christ!
Hi, Bonnie!
This entry is very important for me. My dad died this fall (proceeded by my mom 2 years ago) and I have been processing the fact that my brother and I were cemtionally neglected by both parents. God lead me to a good read on the subject, but your posting is more evidence that He is doing the work of healing in me.
i’m so sorry that you’ve had to suffer such a deep loss — it will be a season of grieving for you — and i just want to encourage you to say that it’s worth every tear and uncovering the memories, because you are loved, worth it and the story you’ve lived and carry, God loves tenderly. and kindreds like me are here with you on this journey. i hope you get a chance to read my book Finding Spiritual Whitespace — I share my journey of emotionally healing and uncovering my own story with my family with God in very powerful way that has and still is changing my life.. hapy new year, friend!
I have just found you from Crosswalk & I am so thankful. Thank you for being so transparent & waving the smoke in my heart to once again ignite a flame. I’m so grateful to God for you.
Bonnie, you are blessed. You are a wonderful writer that speaks to the soul. Thank you. I’m praying in your recovery journey from PTSD, you will be healed. God bless you
hi tracie, i’m so glad that Crosswalk led you here to this place – you’re welcome here always! i’m so grateful to hear we can share this journey and being here has touched your heart. thank you for your encouragement, sweet new friend! they speak into my heart. happy new year!
Thank you for your honesty. Your true words strike a chord in me and tears pour out from a deep heart, tears I didn’t even know I had. Thank you for sharing and showing me how to invite Jesus in to these painful places.
This is beautiful Bonnie. I love the revelation God gave you about the wise men’s traveling a different route. It encourages me in this new season of my life where God called me to do a thing that didn’t make sense to some, was a bit scary, but required of me I wanted to be obedient and let go of people’s expectations. I also loved the questions you asked us at the end. It felt as if God himself were asking me. I am so glad He has shown you how He was there in your past all along, and I pray He continues to show you – as He leads you in the present and the future!
Bonnie, what you write always comes alive. Your gift is truly touching hearts. As a teacher, I have had moments where children have told me very difficult things and their hurts have torn my heart deep. I have loved them and encouraged them. My heart aches for them. The prayers that go up for them feel like prayers not unlike prayers for my own children. Thank you for sharing, I wonder if you have ever tried to find your 5th grade teacher? I know it would bring joy to his heart to know that a student remembers the encouragement he provided. There is so much power available through the Words we speak. For all of the negative words your child heart heard, there are a million more life-giving words you have spoken and will speak, Amen.
Sending my prayers up for you and your family for a blessed New Year. May God restore you completely and bring the annointing of His healing to bind up every part of brokeness you have endured in your heart. Amen,
With Love in Christ Jesus,
Brandi
Thank you, Bonnie, for sharing your journey with such openness and honesty. How beautiful to see how God opened his arms to hold you, when life’s imperfections wounded you. Praise God for his tender, loving care! And praise him for the strength and perseverance he’s given you to pursue wholeness and complete healing from your past. You are undoubtedly a powerful encouragement to many others who still suffer emotionally from the abuse they endured during childhood.
Bonnie, I am reading Finding Spiritual Whitespace right now. Thank you for sharing. A lot of your thoughts resound on my memory. Thank you for your Dec 24 post. My fifth grade teacher, Miss Bishoff, was a wonderful teacher like Mr. Crutch on. She encouraged me greatly and supported me in school subjects and sports.
Phyllis
hi phyllis, thanks so much for sharing your memory of Miss Bishoff — it’s such a a treasure to know we’re meeting between the pages of the book Finding Spiritual Whitespace – and it touches my heart to know we can share the journey together. happy new year, new friend! 🙂