Foreword | The Rhythm of Becoming
There are moments in life when words arrive with weight—
Not heavy like burdens, but rich like oil.
What you’re about to read is not merely poetry.
It is the unfolding of a journey.
A sacred weaving of seasons walked in faith:
obedience, waiting, healing, pressing through, and joy.
The structure and stanzas themselves were not penned by me.
Rather, they were prayerfully brought to life through collaboration with a writer who helped give voice to what I’ve long carried within.
Still, the heartbeat of this message, and many of the key words and themes it contains, were given to me by divine revelation over years —
through patterns, impressions, and moments I believe were orchestrated by the Spirit of God.
I’ve held these words closely, waiting for the time of release.
And now, in the fullness of God’s timing, I offer this portion to those who are listening — the ones whose hearts beat to the same sacred rhythm.
May you find in these verses
a mirror for your journey,
a melody for your soul,
and a message that reminds you:
You are not alone in the becoming.
To God Be The Glory!
I. Before the Word
Before I understood the difference,
I heard a word—not loud, but alive.
It carried truth. It carried hope.
It said, “This is the time to serve.”
I didn’t know how to follow,
Still, I was already on the journey.
A young heart in an old world,
Listening for the voice of Christ.
II. Home, and the Heart of It
We built a home not with brick but with stories,
Each room echoing with lessons, people, and grace.
The Bible stayed open, the fruit kept growing,
Even when the storm tried to erase our place.
In the kitchen, we passed down more than dinner,
We passed on the touch of compassion, the gift of a prayer,
The kind of care that speaks without words—
And shows that God was already there.
III. The Challenge and the Call
There was frustration, yes.
A cracked relationship, a distant friend,
But the truth stood still as the rails ran wild—
And I knew Jesus would meet me again.
The mission was never just a moment,
It was a life, a calling, a song.
I heard Him say, “Obey in the little,
And you’ll be strong where you once felt wrong.”
IV. Revelation Unfolding
Now the Kingdom is not just coming,
It is here, in every story, in every word I write.
Missions, healing, the narrative of nations,
Spoken gently through eyes that have seen light.
This is revelation, still revealing,
A love letter God started in the beginning.
And though I don’t know all the ways just yet,
I know I’m living, learning, and listening.
V. The Waiting Place
I waited in the quiet, where even prayer had no sound,
Where compassion clashed with challenge,
And I wasn’t sure what to do with my hands.
“Rest,” He said. “Even fruit grows in silence.”
Time passed—sometimes like a slow train,
Other times like a flood breaking through.
But every day He sent something—
A message, a memory, a moment.
Not all storms shake the sky.
Some just stir the soul enough to see.
And in the stillness,
I learned the power of being.
VI. The Heart Remembers
Remember, He said.
Remember the words, the book, the blessing,
The gift of August mornings, the voice of your father,
The stories that shaped your soul.
There were days when I felt tired,
But He gave me health, gave me truth, gave me this heart.
He saved what I thought was lost,
And reminded me that obedience is still worship.
This is not just personal—it’s eternal.
It’s the body of Christ, moving,
Not always in grand ways,
But in the way we serve, we listen, we live.
VII. The Work of the Word
So I rise—
To speak, to write, to follow, to build.
To be a light on a page, a glove on a hand,
A voice that carries truth in the marketplace.
I don’t take this lightly.
I’ve felt the weight of waiting,
The tension of time that doesn’t obey my schedule.
But still I go—faithfully, fully, again.
For the Word is not a task.
It’s a life. A living thing.
It moves, it heals, it reveals,
And it never comes back empty.
VIII. A Kingdom Unfolding
“Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done,”
I say it now with understanding.
It’s not just about someday—it’s about today,
Where guidance becomes a mission, and mission becomes love.
He entrusted me with these words,
Not to hide them, but to share them.
So I will—on this platform, in my work, in my voice,
Until they reach the one they were meant for.
And maybe that’s you.
Maybe it’s someone who’s still searching.
Maybe it’s me,
On the days I forget what I already know.
IX. Still Becoming
I am still becoming.
Still peeling away layers of fear, of frustration,
Still finding my place between Heaven and earth,
Still hearing the Father call me daughter.
I’ve walked through valleys, danced on mountains,
Stumbled in my faith, but never in His love.
There is no distance too far, no season too dry,
That the Living Water cannot reach.
So I press on—
Not because I’m perfect,
But because He is.
And that’s the revelation I’m walking in now.
X. Called by Name
He called me before I had a title,
Before I knew the shape of ministry,
Before I knew the sound of my own voice
Or the weight of the obedience it would carry.
He didn’t ask me to be perfect,
Only to be willing.
Only to serve, to go,
To walk through open doors
Even when I didn’t feel ready.
And so I said yes.
Sometimes with tears,
Sometimes with boldness,
Always with trust.
XI. Ministry in Motion
Ministry isn’t always on a stage.
Sometimes it’s found
In the whisper behind a curtain,
In the hand that lifts a weary body,
Or the visit that no one else had time to make.
It’s cleaning after meals,
Praying when no one asks,
Giving the last piece of bread,
And walking beside someone who forgot how to hope.
It’s doing the things that don’t get noticed,
The things that don’t get shared,
But are recorded in Heaven
As acts of love and faithfulness.
XII. Dust and Glory
I am not just a woman,
I am a witness.
Not just a believer,
But part of the body in motion.
My feet are dusty from the journey,
But my hands shine with the oil of purpose.
I carry both the weight and the wonder
Of being used, even in weakness.
Some days I feel tired,
Some days I feel strong,
But every day I am being shaped
By the God who sees everything.
XIII. Heaven’s Perspective
The world sees a job,
God sees a calling.
The world sees a person,
God sees a son or daughter rising.
They might miss the mission,
The message, the Master.
But I know the difference
Between applause and assignment.
So I work with compassion,
Speak with clarity,
Move with purpose,
And rest in His power.
XIV. The Hidden Years
They never saw the nights I wept,
The rooms I cleaned while praying in silence.
They didn’t hear the questions,
The ache of waiting,
The echo of “When, Lord?” in the back of my mind.
But God was not absent in the quiet.
He was in the details—
The morning light, the unexpected smile,
The page of Scripture that read me
Better than I could read it.
He was building me in the unseen,
Preparing what they now call grace,
But what I knew only as
Survival.
XV. The Cry for Understanding
I asked,
“Why the storms, why the stretching?
Why the drought before the fruit?”
And Heaven didn’t answer in thunder.
It answered in truth.
I learned that some lessons
Aren’t spoken—they are carried.
That faith is not just felt—
It’s forged in the fire of “I don’t understand.”
And still,
There was comfort.
Not always answers, but assurance.
Not always explanation, but presence.
Because some understanding
Comes only after we’ve obeyed.
XVI. Healing & Restoration
There were days when I thought it was over.
That the calling had passed me by,
That the damage was too deep,
The brokenness too scattered.
But then,
He touched the fragments,
Breathed over the bones,
And I heard the sound of restoration.
I saw how healing was layered—
Sometimes through words,
Sometimes through stillness,
Sometimes through doing it afraid.
Now, the same hands that once trembled
Are the ones He uses to bless others.
The same heart once crushed
Now pulses with His joy.
XVII. Spiritual Warfare
The battle wasn’t always outside—
Sometimes, it raged within.
Thoughts that whispered “not enough,”
Fears dressed in familiar words.
But I learned to speak Scripture
Like a soldier sharpens a sword,
To stand, not shake,
To pray in the Spirit, not panic.
The enemy wanted my voice,
But God gave me volume.
He tried to silence my purpose,
But God gave me power.
And now, I fight from a place of victory,
Wearing peace as my armor,
And truth as my banner.
The war is real—
But so is my God.
XVIII. Joy in the Journey
There is a joy that comes not after,
But during.
Not once it’s all resolved,
But while it’s still unfolding.
I found it in the smallest things—
A child’s laughter, a sunrise over the ocean,
The smell of bread,
The hum of faithful work.
I found it when I stopped trying to arrive,
And started learning to abide.
Not rushing the story,
Just walking with the Author.
And now, I smile not because everything is perfect,
But because I know the One who holds the pen.
The journey itself has become my joy,
And the joy has become my strength.
Closing Reflection
If these verses spoke to your heart, I invite you to sit with them.
Let them meet you wherever you are on your journey.
If you’d like to share how God is writing your story, I’d love to hear from you in the comments.
To God Be The Glory. Always!
Veron | Business Owner | The Way 4Word Enterprises
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