Written July 22, 2015 by Candice Coates Well, I am going to go then,” I thumb toward the front door from the back deck and look down at him, waiting for him to respond. We have been sitting out here for the last couple of hours. The perfect buffet line for every mosquito in the neighborhood. He stares forward still unmoving before finally tilting his head around to look at me. He can’t see my face, which is a good thing. The sun behind my head has created the perfect backdrop, veiling my features in darkness. Like I said, it is a good thing. I have never been good at poker, and I can’t mask my expressions so well anymore. When this began I was good at it, but it hass been almost a year now. I began to wear down six months ago. His eyes glance down at my toes and he grins. I must be balling them and releasing them again, a telltale sign that I am irritated. He is very astute that …
Welcome to My Favorite Writes! This page is dedicated to all of the Short Stories & Free Flow Writes that I have created since this blog began, stories that have taken up a special place in my heart. As my collection grows, so too will the Table of Contents. Click on any of the titles below & share in the moment of some of my favorite written creative creations. Table of Contents * OFIELD GRAMBLIN EATS HIS WORDS * BUTTERCUPS * I PROMISE * QUAKE * SCRIPTURIENT * I DREAM OF YOU: A POEM Pt 1 * WEAVER’S THREADS * SWEETEST WHISPER: A POEM * IN THE SILENCE
*Revised from November 18, 2014 For many years now, I have been likening my creativity to that of motherhood. I often speak of my creations as my children, each with their own personality, some more giving than others, while some are just outright unruly. Through the span of the years, my creativity has produced many fruits that I cannot help but be grateful for. My spirit, soul, and mind have truly been fed and exercised which is why I created this platform for in the first place. But there have been seasons, and will likely be others that come, that as if everything is at a sudden standstill. These are seasons where you feel like you have nothing to say or give but at the same time, you recognize that you have so eggs in your creative basket. I will admit that I have experienced this anxious feeling while sitting in my creative silence. What to do? What to do? What to do? If I could compare this feeling to anything, it would be the …
This past July I (Briana had the privilege of participating in a girls’ getaway with one of my dear friends, and the founder of this ministry, Candice Coates. While we had anticipated our trip being a work trip full of progress on the business plan for the ministry, maybe a model created for our creative retreats, some articles written and revelation given, much to our surprise, this trip had a different agenda from Jesus. Fittingly, this trip took place in the middle of a teaching done by Candice on resting to success and I think Jesus thoroughly enjoyed giving us an active portrayal/example of what that looks like. And while great progress on our to-do lists was certainly made, we quickly recognized that progress flowed from naps in the sun, quiet journaling while watching the sunset and the fireflies appear, walking through a bookshop or stumbling upon another artist’s historic shop and creative life work. Progress was made as we laughed through the night about foolish movie lines. It was made as our souls were …
Written April 14, 2014 I got something for you.” Milly smiled at the threshold before entering the room and walking toward Garnet’s bedside box in hand. Garnet studied her curiously, mouth slightly agape. Milly’s smile only brightened. “May I?” she asked, pointing at the bed. “Certainly! Have a seat, Milly.” Garnet tried to offer her a smile in return but he just couldn’t get his face to work that way. He was still too astonished by her being there…on his bed…in his room. Technically it was their room but he had used it alone for so long that he had forgotten how to let her in. He had forgotten how to let her into his heart as well. Milly had been guilty of that as well. The box made a hollow sound as Milly moved it about in her hands. She wanted to be comfortable but not so much that she bumped Garnet’s leg. He had broken it and broken it good. His femur bone was split right in two! It was going to take …
“…rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation, continuing steadfastly in prayer…” ~ROM. 12:12 One thing that I have noticed in my own faith walk and processes is that sometimes, when time and patience seem to stretch, and trials seem to mount, my rejoicing has the propensity to draw into silence as I fill my time with distractions…and prayer about my situation goes silent. Yes, I am still praying about other things, but praying about that purpose or point of passion that burns in my heart but seems oh so far away, I at times grow quite, fatigued. I begin to think, “Well, I’ve prayed enough times about this, and the Lord knows.” But the problem with this attitude and posture is that when we cease to rejoice in our hope when we lose patience in the process when we grow quite in our pointed prayers, we inadvertently fall out of line with the purpose that God has for us. We allow the passing of time to push us off course, thusly becoming distracted with things that will not strengthen …
Heads or tails?” “What? You can’t be seri-” “Heads? Or tales?” Quarter sat at the ready, balanced atop the smoothness of his thumbnail, Josiah cut off her words. It wasn’t so much his words that eased her into silence, but the glint in his eyes and the smile that curved his lips. He was serious, deadly serious. Severin pressed her eyes closed and pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling nervousness roll up and around her belly. Had she actually eaten the lunch he had packed for them instead of anxiously pushing it around with her fork, nibbling it here and there, she would have had no room inside for anxiety to fill her guts in the first place. At least the plate was neatly stashed away in the cooler for later if she survived to eat it later. Of course, the coin was two-sided so there was the other option that didn’t involve leaping to her death, but it did have a “leap” all its own. As it were, Severin Hastings, true to her name, had …
It is with great pleasure, that I ( Candice) get to present to you Regina Hernandez, one of ICFTS’ team members, sisters in Christ, and fellow creative! Be blessed by her testimony and the view of her creative path laid out for her by Christ. By Regina Hernandez Starting at a very young age, people around me recognized how creative I was. I remember adults often being impressed with the lens in which I could see certain circumstances or perceive different ideas. I was encouraged to explore my artistic side from an early age, being gifted art-sets and watercolor palettes or just simply doing crafts with my mom. I had an encounter when I was about six or seven years old where someone asked me “What do you want to be when you grow up?” as most adults typically ask little ones. I remember thinking for a bit and going through the usual list in my head “Teacher? No… Police officer? Not really….” And while all of them are noble in their own right and …
Authenticity. According to Wikipedia, Authenticity-Authentic-Authentication is ‘the act of confirming the truth of an attribute.‘ Truth, unlike ‘fact,’ is an unchangeable and consistent reality. While an attribute, in its noun form according to Merriam-Webster, is ‘a quality or feature regarded as a characteristic or inherent part of someone or something.‘ As a creative, a being made in the image of the Master Creator, Yeshua-Jesus, you have the inherent DNA to create. (More on that in The Call to Create.) There are specific, unchangeable attributes about what you have been given to offer to the world, things that are waiting for you to discover and share, that are unique to you and unrivaled by others. “The struggle that we all face in our creative journeys is summed up in one phrase; the urge to be a people-pleaser.” It could be in the way you paint, throw a football, run a boardroom, or even how you nurture children in your home or in an educational environment. Whatever it is, it is unique to you. But, more often than not, the noise of …
Oh sweet fire Oh sweet fire Burning from embers Kissed by gales of rushing wind Charred black my loveliness Til all seems lost And I must start again Bring forth new life, Oh sweet fire From death spring fertile ground In the wake of your scorching pyres Is where my future will abound Oh sweet fire ~Candice Coates From Fire & Ashes: A Word of Faith & Encouragement Fire rips through the hilly countryside, leaving devastation in its wake. All seems lost. Hope is suffocated in the thick choking smoke that rises from the ashes of what used to be treasures and dreams. And when the orange and black fades, giving way to sunlight, nothing can be heard but mocking silence. The fire has one and all is lost. …Or is it? If you live long enough, if you haven’t already, you will drink of your fair share of disappointment. Something will come and snatch the proverbial rug from beneath your feet and leave you on your back winded. None of us are immune to it. …
