The sky comes down to kiss the earth in Prescott

You can almost touch the clouds

The roar of prayer

The thunder of praise

Like ocean

And lightning

The Word pours forth from the Preacher’s mouth

And wraps around the great tent, like a mighty wind, drawing you in.

The altar, arms wide open, beckons all

And the little sapling has grown into a young tree

She traverses mountains and reaches for stars

She has returned

Her heart and soul outshines the moon in the dark of night

She is a lesser light for the Greater Light, the Son

And her mama and her daddy smile

And Jesus smiles

“Come little one,” He says. “Let Me show you the great things I have planned for you.”


She was only five weeks old when we took her to the Prescott International Bible Conference in Arizona, a feisty bundle of fretful fury.

“Give her to me,” our friend Tony said, as he pried her from my arms. Peach skin and pink fluff pressed against an ebony cheek, his hand almost encompassing, as he paced at tent’s edge comforting her. A perfect picture. 

She fussed as I held her at the door of the tent, trying to escape the steamy heat and catch some fresh air. Suddenly, a gust of wind lifted the tent roof draped and laden with rain from the night before, sending a torrent of water crashing down on us. Everyone  startled and turned to see us standing soaking wet. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay?” others asked as I caught my breath and started laughing. Abby cooed contentedly, looking up in wonder at tent and sky. We stayed in our wet clothes and she fell asleep as I settled into a seat and drank in the preaching. tattoo_it_on_your_heart_rachael_m_colby_prescott_bible_conference_cfm

The nursery workers and family dubbed her Abby-wail and Crabby Abby. I used to call her my little porcupine- cute but deadly. She had a hedgehog for a pet for awhile. Sometimes they were a lot alike. I call her my beloved Frizz Head. Along the way there’s been potholes on mountain roads before we hit some open highway. She’s seventeen now. It’s not always easy living with a firecracker whose head is in the clouds, one who rooms with chaos and whose middle names are Last Minute and I Forgot. But I love her. I love her zeal, her heart for God and people. I admire her resilient spirit, her spunk, how she chases adventure and reaches for stars. She’s a Believer.

“I miss Sandy and Mr. C,” Abby said of my friends, mentors, other mother and father. Sandy was in my wedding and present when our children were born. They helped me learn to walk when I was a babe in Christ and always lit the way with Light and love. They’ve been there for my children too. I’m thankful for them and for the fellowship of churches we are a part of, whose faithful preaching of the Gospel is able to lead to Christ, and to sustain and inspire us from generation to generation.

“Who was that?” Abby said.

“It was Sandy. She called to say you’re  going to have jet lag as you’re flying into Tuscon at almost midnight, and they’re taking you to Prescott Bible Conference. They’re leaving at 5 a.m.”

“Yessss!” She said.

Full circle. “Thy will, Lord. Amen.” 🙂

© 2017 Rachael M Colby             Tattoo It On Your Heart

Author: Rachael M. Colby

Born and raised in Jamaica, award-winning writer Rachael M. Colby resides in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Wife, mom, beach bum, artist, work in progress, avid Tweeter—#HealthyFaithChat leader, Rachael writes to glorify God, encourage believers, and reach the lost. She connects culture’s questions with Christianity’s answers, inspires faith, and motivates through articles, devotions, poetry, and interviews. She has a heart for racial reconciliation and to uplift those who serve in tough places. Her work has appeared on Southern Ohio Christian Voice, Inkspirations Online, the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference Blog, in the compilation books Creative Writing Journal: Faith Inspired Writing Prompts & Hope-Filled Poetry, The Courage to Write: 62 devotions to Encourage your Writing Journey, and Defining Moments: Memorable and Inspiring Stories from Outstanding Leaders, Chicken Soup for the Soul: Well That Was Funny, and in the Oak Ridger newspaper. She runs on copious amounts of coffee and chocolate and a whole lot of "Help me, Jesus." Her WIPS include a compilation of her family’s and others’ stories of their work as civil rights activists (adult and children’s books), and a devotional for writers. You can connect with Rachael on her website,—a place for seekers, followers, and writers, and on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram.

9 thoughts on “Abby”

  1. I totally remember that conference, how hot it was, how little and fussy Abby was, AND you standing in the doorway…when the water hit!
    Love the poem. Glad Abby got to go to Prescott and that she is seeking Him!


  2. What a wonderful family of God we belong too. So happy to hear Abby is at conference with none other than Tom and Sandy. Miss them and Tony too! Can’t wait to see what your firecracker comes home with!!


  3. It was such a treat to see her yesterday and so neat for my parents to be able to meet Roy’s daughter. He used to come to Bible studies at our house when he was just a brand new convert!


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