NIKI FLORICA

Crazy week, folks. Craaaazy week. Second-year has just begun and already there just aren't enough hours in the day; writing and AuthorTube and the blog are still vying for attention; my TBR is rapidly growing and my time for pleasure-reading is rapidly shrinking, and you know what the worst part is? My God-time is under attack. I'm probably not the only one fighting this constant battle against busyness in which God-time is usually one of the first casualties. I dedicate the

I bombed my first driver's test. And, no, before you say, "Oh, I failed, too!" believe me when I say that mine was probably worse. In fact, I'm almost 100% sure. It's okay, I've accepted it . . . mostly. Failure was not something I was overly accustomed to, and I don't say that with any kind of arrogance or conceit whatsoever! Academically speaking, I just always worked hard and saw good results, and generally speaking, I don't spend much free time doing things I'm not okayis

Yesterday I turned the last page of C.S. Lewis', Miracles. Maybe it's an English major thing, but trudging through Lewis' spiritual musings just gets me going, tickles my fancy, turns my crank if you would. Here's one I dog-eared (which is only acceptable in books of this nature: I'd NEVER do it to a novel): "But behind all asceticism (*basically just severe self-denial—think puritans*) the thought should be . . . Who will trust me with a spiritual body if I cannot control ev

Ideas. Why is that such a scary word? Don't get any ideas. She's been filling her head with ideas. I think sometimes we forget that life is a process—a never-ending progression of ideas—and that living in this world means exposure to all kinds of them, just as living with Christ means being changed by the ideas he brought into the world when he came. I've lived most of my Christian life on the defensive. I knew what I believed and when I came against something that contradict

I can't imagine a bleaker point in history than the days between Christ's death and resurrection. If I were with Cleopas and his fellow traveler on the road to Emmaus that first Easter Sunday, they'd probably agree. I've never been to Emmaus. I couldn't tell you where to find it. It could have been a main road, a bustling place with lots of traffic where people could always be found, but I tend to imagine it on a more quiet scale. A less-traveled road to a backwater village,

I talked last week about the human will. Well, I'm still talking about it. In Luke 18, Jesus arrived in Jerusalem. It was near the end of his ministry and he knew what that meant as well as we do now. On his way, a blind man heard him coming and called out to him for mercy. Now, I'm sure that you and I could figure out what the blind man wanted from Jesus, let alone Jesus himself. Did he need to be told that the poor man wanted sight? Probably not. I don't think that's a stre

Good ol' I Corinthians 13. Short and sweet and sharp as a dagger. Love is patient, love is kind, love doesn't envy, think highly of itself, think badly of others, seek its own welfare, misbehave, and here's the best part: every good work or spiritual skill is pretty much worthless without it. Let's be honest. It's a nice chapter and everything, but it's also a bit . . . overwhelming? I mean, who does all that? Who is patient and kind all the time, never envies or thinks highl

When you stop to count them, a TON of spiritual traits boil down to good ol' fashioned acts of will. Prayerfulness. Forgiveness. Thankfulness. Selflessness. Love. Even faith. We love to think of being inherently forgiving or prayerful or full of faith as if it just happens when we've been believers long enough. We look at those around us who excel in certain areas and say, "Well, So-and-So is just naturally forgiving. It's easy for her, much harder for me." We might even let

I had a rough day last week. A Thursday, but if we're being honest, I wasn't feeling very Thankful. Some new-ish responsibilities at work were killing me: I wanted to nail it and instead felt as if I'd spent the entire shift in anxiety overdrive and still managed to be less than flawless in my execution. I was so rattled and discouraged, tears were flowing by the time the car pulled into my driveway. Now, with the same shift looming on the other side of tonight, I'm tempted t

Some people have the gift of giving gifts. One of my O&Ds (oldest and dearest) has proved it time and time again, most recently when she gave me the beautiful **Cinder-themed** candle featured in this post's photo. Chatting about it, we both agreed that gift-giving should be a thoughtful art. A gift for the sake of a gift means very little, while a gift given with thought for the recipient's personality is almost always meaningful. The same rules apply to our intangible gifts

Perspective is a gift. God knew we couldn't handle the full, grandiose scope of everything He's doing in our lives, so he gave us limited sight. A piece of the puzzle—our small, incomplete, but seemingly all-consuming perspectives of life. They're a gift in that we are not crushed by the overwhelming weight of the big picture, but Satan can use that gift and twist it to his advantage as well. C.S. Lewis' Screwtape talks about time as a spiritual thing. The present is where ti

I recently saw a post that said something along the lines of, "Be the best at whatever you do," and it struck me as slightly far-fetched. How can we all be the best at our jobs? Wouldn't it be more realistic to strive for hard-working, dependable, competent? Maybe. But it reminds me of our objective as followers of Christ, who very specifically instructs us to "be perfect" as God is perfect. Rest assured, Christ knows this goal is eons beyond our reach. We are innately flawed

Lost, chained, a fool, or at wit's end. Which one are you? Try finding yourself in the spectrum of Psalm 107's desperate people. Are you the lost soul wandering the wilderness, nowhere to go, hungry but not sure what for, craving a feeling of belonging? Are you the one who sits in deepest gloom, in chains of your own making? Are you the fool who turned your back on God, marched to the beat of your own drum, and now stand at death's door, crying out for help? Are you the sailo

“I must say a word about fear. It is life's only true opponent. Only fear can defeat life. It is a clever, treacherous adversary ... It goes for your weakest spot, which it finds with unnerving ease. It begins in your mind, always ... so you must fight hard to express it. You must fight hard to shine the light of words upon it. Because if you don't ... you open yourself to further attacks of fear because you never truly fought the opponent who defeated you.” Why did I choose

I'm trying to start a new habit. I love going for walks down my country road when my head feels crowded with the things of this big ol' world we're just passing through. Sometimes I pray while I walk, but sometimes, especially lately, I listen to worship music. And though part of me itches against the idea that I need tunes to go for a walk—(FYI, I don't always)—most of me is thrilled about a new discovery I've made. The discovery that worship can happen anywhere, anytime, to

Life threw me for a loop this week, y'all. One minute I'm rolling along, feeling reasonably in-control of my routine, and the next I'm buying a car, job-hunting, preparing for my driver's test, and frantically trying to ready my latest manuscript for this year's #PitMad event—just to name a few of the surprises that, of course, had to fall within the same seven days out of 365. Naturally. At various points in this week, I felt absolutely out of control. Even now, I'm not too

Funny thing about toast—when you smell it, you want it. Ever notice that? I mean, there was a time when I would sooner eat dirt than toast, and I still can't deny its magical property of being appetizing in any and every context. It's just one of those things. Innately appealing, we need only to experience a whiff of it to crave it. Something in us just wants toast. What if I told you that Jesus and toast have a lot in common? See, the Word of God calls us to follow Jesus, bu

I am a Truthwatcher. I know because the very thorough results from my "Official Knights Radiant Order Quiz" told me so, and we book nerds take our fictional quizzes rather seriously. Now, Brandon Sanderson's Stormlight Archive (and its 10 orders of Knights with different attributes) may be fictional, but I can't deny that my results gave me a little thrill. Maybe because a Truthwatcher is exactly what I want to be. What does it mean to search for the Truth, to shun deceptions

I can happily say that my new favourite show is officially The Chosen—not only marked by quality acting, sweet costumes, killer screenwriting, and loveable characters, but also featuring Jesus. Yeah, that's right. Jesus. Need I say more? As far as cinematic Jesus depictions go, The Chosen paints my favourite picture. Unlike in the original Ben-Hur film, he is not a faceless figure who floats through scenes on strings of otherworldly music. And, unlike in the film version of T

Anyone who's watched High School Musical or the Teen Beach Movie or any such Disneylicious teen drama know that at some point or another, the heroes and heroines always get hung up on the idea of the future. I never got it before. I mean, I've seen High School Musical a bajillion times and for years, Troy and Gabriella's anxiety about the future never resonated with me like it does now. Because now, I find myself where they are—older, actually, which is too terrifying to even