Amy's Pen

At the beginning of the pandemic, the whole world was on hold. We simply waited. No one knew what was next; we were in foreign territory. Were we in true danger? Would life ever resume as it once was? Whose opinion was correct? One shoe had dropped and we waited for the next one to fall, utterly perplexed as to what it would look like.

Uneasiness and unrest easily accompany the unknown. However, there is a calm reality for the believer in Jesus Christ. Waiting on Him means we are trusting the One who is never surprised, who is fully in control, and who is executing perfect plans.

The psalmist explains why we can confidently wait on the Lord in Psalm 130. He shifts between calling God “Jehovah,” with all capped letters (LORD), and “Adonai,” with lowercase letters (Lord). Our God is both. He is Jehovah, translated “I am who I am” or “I will be what I will be” or “I am the One who is.” He is the self-exist, self-sufficient, unchanging God who is faithful to keep His promises. He is also Adonai, our master and ruler. The psalmist incorporates this title of respect because, though many earthly lords or figures of power exist, there is only one Lord of heaven and earth, one Master and Ruler over all. This is why waiting on Him is worthwhile.

Notice the use of both LORD and Lord:

Psalm 130
Out of the depths I have cried to You, LORD.
Lord, hear my voice!
Let Your ears be attentive
To the sound of my pleadings.
If You, LORD, were to keep account of guilty deeds,
Lord, who could stand?
But there is forgiveness with You,
So that You may be revered.
I wait for the LORD, my soul waits,
And I wait for His word.
My soul waits in hope for the Lord
More than the watchmen for the morning;
Yes, more than the watchmen for the morning.
Israel, wait for the LORD;
For with the LORD there is mercy,
And with Him is abundant redemption.
And He will redeem Israel
From all his guilty deeds.

2020’s pandemic was not the first time the whole world was in waiting. Prior to the birth of Christ, there was a deep longing for the fulfillment of hundreds of prophecies concerning the Messiah, the long-awaited chosen One. Like any good gift, Jesus was worth the wait! 

And now that I have Him, He is still worth the wait. David declared, “I waited patiently for the LORD.” I hear you, David. Me too. I too wait for Him to put my feet upon a rock, to make my footsteps firm, and to put a new song in my mouth. I wait for Him to heal my afflictions, to meet my every need, to give direction to my wandering, and to impart wisdom for my decisions. I wait for Him to give me rest, to grant me His strength. I wait for His presence. I wait for Him more than the watchman for the morning! I wait for His return. I wait for my LORD. I wait for my Lord. I wait.

In this season of life, my goal is to laugh. I aspire to be the Proverbs 31 woman who laughs at the future (verse 25). I could write pages about various trials and life changes that have hit the Fata household recently, but I’d rather spare you those gory details and put things plainly:

But our God is in the heavens;
He does whatever He pleases. (Psalm 115:3)

The reality that our Lord is operating outside of what I think is best is a tremendous comfort. His sovereignty means my surety. I trust He allows every hardship because He knows what my heart needs to ultimately bring Him the most glory. 

The way I see it, I have two choices when each frustration arises: I can sink down into the mire and wallow around in self-pity, or I can remember that my feet are firm upon a Rock and stand up straight, look boldly ahead, and laugh. For my God is in the heavens and He does whatever He pleases. 

I know the enemy seeks to keep me from effective ministry. I am aware that He desires to bury me with distractions and disturbances which render me useless for the kingdom. This era of life has brought me to my knees with new purpose. I claim the powerful name of Jesus over every event. I submit my life under His authority with joy and determination to thrive in my ministry for His name’s sake, come what may. 

I truly love that He gets to choose. So, see me laughing. 

As a follower of Jesus Christ, I can be joyful even in the unhappiest of circumstances. I have learned it is better to be joyful than to be happy because joy includes contentment! And contentment comes through my union with Christ. 

We just debuted a new worship song titled “Jesus Is the Joy.” He really is! No matter what we are facing or enduring, joy is a possession that is ours through our oneness with our Savior. The question is not “Do we have joy?” but rather, “Will we choose to live in it?”

JESUS IS THE JOY
Joy in the baby boy born in Bethlehem
Joy in the carpenter with nail prints in His hands 
There is joy
Jesus is the Joy

Joy in Messiah’s birth, sent to save His own 
Joy in the Son of Man who made this earth His home 
There is joy
Jesus is the Joy

CHORUS
You are the Fount of Happiness
For there is joy in righteousness
A heart that’s bent in praise
Is contented in Your ways

Joy in my Savior’s blood shed upon the tree
Joy in the broken chains, He has set me free 
There is joy
Jesus is the Joy

Joy in the dark of night, joy in my pain 
Joy in the daily fight, joy because He reigns
There is joy
Jesus is the Joy

Of all that brings the Father joy
Of all His pleasures to abound
A manger held a baby boy
A Savior wore a thorny crown

Joy in the Father’s eyes
He sees His Son in me
Joy in the here and now
And all eternity
There is joy
Jesus is the Joy

Joy in the Father’s arms
Accepted, loved, and held
Joy in my Savior’s love
I know all is well
There is joy
Jesus is the Joy

For Harbour Shores Church, series in Philippians
© 2025 Portion Music/ASCAP

There are many reasons to mourn the assassination of Charlie Kirk, but at the base of this devastating loss for his wife Erika is the harsh separation from half of herself.

Marriage is so much more than a commitment to spend the rest of your life with someone of the opposite sex. It is more than supplementing your income. It is more than sharing the load of household duties and raising children. It is more than the sanctifying process of learning to commune with someone far different from yourself. Marriage is ordained by God to be a physical representation of the spiritual union He has designed between His Church and His Son. 

Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself up for her, so that He might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, that He might present to Himself the church in all her glory, having no spot or wrinkle or any such thing; but that she would be holy and blameless. So husbands also ought to love their own wives as their own bodies. He who loves his own wife loves himself; for no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ also does the church, because we are parts of His body. For this reason a man shall leave his father and his mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh. This mystery is great; but I am speaking with reference to Christ and the church. Nevertheless, as for you individually, each husband is to love his own wife the same as himself, and the wife must see to it that she respects her husband. (Ephesians 5:25–33)

Patrick has been in Europe helping his mother move from Germany to Romania (he gets home tonight!). Whenever he is gone, I feel as though I am walking around half here. It is obvious that half of me is missing when I try to do basic life tasks that usually involve him. When he is absent, I lose my ministry partner, my pianist, my musical arranger, my choral accompanist, my worship team co-leader, my driver, my personal chef, my handy man, my technological support, my graphics designer, my counselor, my prayer partner, my therapist, my confidant, my best friend, my lover, and so much more. 

Without my husband, the roles I typically play shift drastically, if not totally disappear. I am no longer part of a team or a helpmate, but rather I am flying solo through every event, big and small. 

I realize that many people fly solo every day. Tragically, Erika Kirk must now don the mantles of widow and single parent. She is forced to forge ahead through every life task without the support of her loving husband. The world watching her might be able to comprehend the depth of this sorrow, but only fellow believers in Jesus Christ understand the spiritual strength He supplies in the physical loss. 

In fact, when followers of Christ appear to be “flying solo” in this earthly journey, they aren’t. There is a Captain at the helm. There is a Lover of our souls. There is a Confidant and a best Friend. Jesus is our Fount of wisdom, our Joy in the journey, and our needs met. 

When half of me is missing, all of me is held.

On the day we were taking our firstborn to college, Patrick and I drove into town to rent a vehicle large enough for her belongings. We then separated, and I went in a different direction so I could drop off our dog at his sitter’s. I then traveled the long country road home consumed by my thoughts of all this day held, and I began to weep. Truly, this was the day I had dreaded since I learned I was expecting Liliana. I knew the years would fly by without my ability to hold them. This day had loomed in the distance for so long, and suddenly, it was upon me, catching me off my guard and causing my heart to ache. 

As I wept and prayed and worshipped the Lord for the gift of this dear daughter, a specific memory flooded my mind. It was a scene from Lillie’s pink nursery when she was a newborn baby. I was standing next to her black crib watching her sleep, and I found myself in total awe of the wonder of new life. In complete and utter gratitude to the Lord for blessing me this way, my hands lifted in His praise as high as they could go. With deep, heartfelt thanksgiving to my King, I wept and worshipped Him, knowing I had been highly favored with the gift of this treasure. I prayerfully expressed my desire to give her wholeheartedly back to Him.

Today, I spent some time in Lillie’s room. She’s been gone from home for only a couple of days. Though I am incredibly excited for her with what this new phase of life at the conservatory entails, I am sad. I think I’m struggling to believe this day has actually arrived; waves of grief wash over me at any given moment. However, there in the shadow of my sorrow lingers that deep, heartfelt thanksgiving that I have carried for over eighteen years. 

I dusted and organized her bookshelves and sorted the miscellaneous items she left behind. I looked through her high school memorabilia and enjoyed many precious memories from her special and unique journey. And then I found myself standing by her bed once more, in the exact same spot I had stood in back in May of 2007. With my hands lifted to the Lord as high as they could go, I wept and worshipped Him, knowing that I have been highly favored with the gift of this treasure. And I prayerfully expressed my desire to give her wholeheartedly to Him yet again.

So I will bless You as long as I live;
I will lift up my hands in Your name. (Psalm 63:4)

2025 has been a whirlwind. We barely kept our heads above water this spring, and when summer hit, there was still no rest for the weary. When we returned in June from a two-week trip filled to the brim with performances and ministry engagements, my chaotic mind and weary body were running on empty. 

I am in a season of life with my teenage daughters that is very full and exciting. One girl is soon to fly the nest, and the other is in driver’s ed, a new ballet school, and a new relationship. I am attempting to balance their needs along with those of my aging parents, my regular work and ministry load, and my ever-shifting hormones… Thank goodness Patrick is low-maintenance! 

By the end of June, the noise in my head was too loud to manage. The mere mention of someone needing me would cause me to weep. I yearned for quiet. I needed quiet. Since my load was not going to lighten any time soon, I wondered what I could eliminate from my daily activities. Instagram was the obvious choice. 

If I had to describe this app in one word, it would be noise. It is a constant display of society’s opinions, feelings, preferences, motives, and actions. Sure, there are godly connections and sweet friendships made or maintained through it. In fact, my daughter located her college roommate just two hours after joining IG on her 18th birthday. It has its benefits for many people both relationally and professionally. Please understand that I am not pooh-poohing social media in and of itself, but rather its effects on one’s head space. 

On June 30th, I turned it off completely. I didn’t know for how long. I just knew I needed the quiet. As we turn the corner into August, I plan to return to it in very small doses, mostly so I can see my daughter’s posts after she leaves for the conservatory. But I don’t mind admitting there is some trepidation about bringing social media back into my life.

What I have learned is that the quiet is good. It is very good. I have been more aware of my surroundings, more productive in my work, more present in my home, and more in tune with the Spirit’s promptings. 

For example, I was driving home a few days ago and felt a specific burden to pray for someone concerning a car wreck. I didn’t know who; I didn’t even know if it was me! But I prayed fervently for whomever the Spirit was prompting me to bring before the throne. I learned the next day that a family I deeply cherish was almost in a head-on collision at the exact moment of my prayers. The Lord graciously spared them. 

I do not believe my prayers were the reason for their safety, for God does not need me. But I do believe the Spirit dwelling in us through Christ is more than a Comforter; He is our Guide and our Compass. He moves among His people, drawing us to the throne of God when we are still enough to hear Him. Herein lies the value of quiet.

The Hebrew word for quiet can be translated “undisturbed.” This might be my new favorite word! Christ-centered thoughts must never be replaced by man-centered entertainment. I won’t let this quiet month of learning be in vain. And I will better guard my heart going forward. 

How about you? Are you quiet?

And the work of righteousness will be peace,
And the service of righteousness, quietness and confidence forever. (Isaiah 32:17)

This spring has been an absolute whirlwind as we graduated our firstborn. Liliana is going to major in violin performance at the College-Conservatory of Music at the University of Cincinnati this fall. On our way home from a multi-city trip through New York and Canada, we stopped in Michigan City, Indiana, so that she could receive a scholarship award from the Indiana School Resource Officer Association. We enjoyed some quality time with Officer Dino Farrell, our beloved resource officer at Carmel Latin School. And it was Lillie’s privilege to play her instrument for 500 officers and their families. 

I have her permission to share the essay that won her this honor. I pray it is a blessing to you. I am so thankful that Lillie is willing to express her faith publicly as she continues to share her battle with fear and anxiety, and how the Lord is her Healer and Protector. He is the Guard at the door. 

Can Foxes Open Doors?
by Liliana Fata 

As a child, fear was my constant companion. My childhood was often spent dealing with crippling anxiety. I distinctly remember seeing a fox in our backyard when I was around four years old. Instead of experiencing childlike wonder and awe, I nervously asked my father, “Can foxes open doors?” Irrational fear is a common experience for many children. Fortunately, I have, for the most part, outgrown my baseless worry. Most children leave behind childhood fears, but some carry their fear into their teen years or even into adulthood. When fear births hatred for others or for self, this is when something innocent turns into something evil.

Hatred is a poison that can result in violence and, sadly, our country is rampant with hatred and violence.  As a high schooler, I now know that my irrational fear that an unwanted power might intrude and cause harm is no longer irrational. Foxes have learned how to open doors. Tragedy can strike at any school at any time. Right now in the United States of America, there is a need for a guard at the door, a shepherd to keep foxes from entering.

Carmel Latin School in Carmel, Indiana, is blessed to have School Resource Officer Dino Farrell standing post as our defender. He provides an example of strength and security as he offers protection for our students and faculty. I often see Officer Dino patrolling the school grounds or sitting in his police car outside the building. He goes above and beyond his regular duties to seek a personal relationship with the students. He encourages us and supports us, and I am proud to say I have found both a guard and a shepherd in him. He is my friend.

As a woman of faith, I see Officer Dino as someone who has represented Christ, to me, who is our ultimate Guard at the door. Jesus declared, “I am the door of the sheep. All those who came before Me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the door; if anyone enters through Me, he will be saved, and will go in and out and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came so that they would have life, and have it abundantly. I am the good shepherd; the good shepherd lays down His life for the sheep” (John 10:8–11). Here, Christ is proclaiming He is the only way to God, but His role as Good Shepherd implies He is also our protector, shepherding His flock, allowing us to rest easy while defending us from the foxes of the world. He is our safe haven.

The importance of a School Resource Officer is not only to protect against foxes—those predators intending harm—but also to set an example of what a strong and safe shepherd is. His presence during the school day means we can rest. As someone who thoroughly understands the difference between fearing and resting, I will forever be grateful.

My firstborn turns eighteen today. These words don’t seem possible. Sometimes when she’s talking to me late at night, I still picture a toddler standing by my bed, explaining in broken speech why she’s gotten out of her own bed. It’s the same sweet face and the same tender heart, but now here stands a beautiful young woman, speaking with clarity and conviction. My Lillie is ready to launch into adulthood. The countdown has begun.

I do not know the date in August when we will move her into the conservatory. I don’t want to know it; my heart isn’t ready. It’s some future day on the calendar that I have dreaded since she was in the womb. I remember driving home from the baby store having just purchased a crib. Patrick and I spoke about how time would fly. We dreamed of making the most of it. One of us mentioned that we would blink and the crib would convert into a big-kid bed, and then we would blink again, and it would be a headboard for a teenager’s bed. We both started crying—and we hadn’t even met her yet!

Liliana Gabriel Fata was born at 7:59 a.m., May 1, 2007. The morning sun shone through the window and landed on my face while I labored to bring her into the world. With this new dawn, our lives changed forever. Our dark-haired baby girl’s first cry sounded like my name, “Maaa, maaa, maaa.” She spoke to my heart with her very first breath.

Patrick and I can’t mention the rapidly approaching fateful day at the end of summer without welling up. We’re aware that the countdown has begun, but we take comfort in believing she’s ready. In God’s good grace, He will prepare our hearts for this letting go. I wish I could report that we have no regrets in our parenting, that we always made the most of our time. It seems we still fail every day! Even while trying to absorb these precious hours, they slip through our fingers like water. And when we try to hold on, we end up clipping her wings instead of being the wind beneath them. This launch season is not for sissies! 

I am aware that I must fire myself from certain parenting jobs in order to protect my future role as the mother of an adult. I stumble through this endeavor every single day. I’m not a fan of this process, but I know the Lord has purposed it, so I swallow hard and put one foot in front of the other. I remind myself of the tremendous blessings of these eighteen years, and I swell up with gratitude. Every evening, I give Lillie back to the One who gave her to me. She stands by my bed, holds my hand, and I sing the same song she’s heard at bedtime for eighteen years…

Love came down from heaven
May first, two-thousand-seven
The sun shone through the window bright
Lit the room and filled our lives
Never been the same since love came
Love came down from heaven

I woke up one day last week with a sore throat. I realize no one appreciates this kind of awakening, but for me, it is truly tragic. I have often joked that when I go down I feel like a victim. Who got me sick and how dare they breathe on me! Losing my vocal health is devastating to our schedule and income. So, per my usual, I launched into deep prayer, pleading with the Lord not to let this be true sickness, to sustain me in one of the most hectic springs my family has ever known. 

The right side of my throat and neck felt swollen, making swallowing or even talking miserable, and my ear also ached. When I shined a light on the back of my throat I learned I was not alone! Two white jagged rocks had taken up residence in my tonsil folds. What in the world? 

After some research, Patrick and I determined these were tonsil stones, probably caused by allergy drainage. I am always relieved to learn I am not “truly sick” when fighting allergies. But on the flip side, they have led to some of my worst bouts with sickness. Allergies seem to be every Indiana resident’s nemesis. And if they aren’t yet, just wait. They can begin at any stage of life. Super fun.

So what was I to do with my new rocky friends? I gargled with salt water. I tried to cough them away. I even tried to poke them with a Q-tip but that made me gag. These dudes had come to stay! According to Mr. Google, the longer they remain, the more damage they will cause, so I needed to evict them. But how? Someone suggested using a wet Q-tip. So, armed with a warm mug of salt water and some dipped tips, I went to war. Sweet victory! Thankfully, after their removal, it wasn’t long before my sickness symptoms disappeared.

What I find intriguing about this whole ordeal is that though it is April (second only to September for my worst allergy month), I had not been experiencing severe allergy symptoms. These stones seemed to come out of nowhere! So of course, a spiritual analogy must be made…

How often do we unknowingly let sinful thoughts or habits exist in our lives? It is only when the nasty effects of them appear that we realize a problem is on our plate. This feels too late to me. How do we preemptively strike our sin? The author of Psalm 19 has the answer:

How can a young man keep his way pure?
By keeping it according to Your word.

With all my heart I have sought You;
Do not let me wander from Your commandments.

I have treasured Your word in my heart,
So that I may not sin against You.

Blessed are You, LORD;
Teach me Your statutes.

With my lips I have told of
All the ordinances of Your mouth.

I have rejoiced in the way of Your testimonies,
As much as in all riches.

I will meditate on Your precepts
And regard Your ways.

I shall delight in Your statutes;
I will not forget Your word.
(Psalm 119:9–16)

The psalmist expresses a deep, abiding affection for God’s truth. He knows it is the only path to freedom and spiritual health. He seeks it, treasures it, learns from it, expresses it, rejoices in it above all else, meditates upon it, and delights in the memorization of it. He explains why he does all of this: “So that I might not sin against You.”

Our greatest defense against any stones of sin moving in and taking residence in us, causing us spiritual sickness, is to shield our lives with Scripture. We take cover under its protection. God has provided a way for spiritual freedom and health. Do we love His Word as the psalmist does? Do we treasure it so that we might not sin against our Heavenly Father?

A preemptive strike is easier than having to fight a long battle. It also spares us harm. Friends, let’s arm ourselves with the shield of the Word, and maybe some Allegra, too. 

When we are falsely accused and in a way that would tarnish the name of Christ, we must clear our name for the sake of His. When our character is in question though we are innocent, it is beneficial to our witness to maintain an honorable reputation. However, there are times when defending ourselves isn’t necessary. We are called to turn the other cheek when slapped. Jesus calls us to put others before ourselves. He said, 

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’ But I say to you, do not show opposition against an evil person; but whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other toward him also. And if anyone wants to sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak also.” (Matthew 5:38–40)

I was verbally attacked on the phone last night even though I was completely innocent of the accusations thrust at me. I wish I could report that I turned the other cheek and let my accuser vent her inappropriate frustration to the fullest. I wish I could write that I gently and lovingly prodded her to discover the real issue at hand. I wish I could say that I ministered to the broken pieces of her heart and let her know that her deep need for love and acceptance was seen. But sadly, no. Instead, I defended my slapped face and released a verbal thrashing of my own. Sigh.

I have always been able to articulate my feelings with a passionate determination to right wrongs and set records straight. At times, this has served me well. But it is a blessing and a curse. Last evening, I saw the negative effects of my quick tongue. After the phone call, I was equally angry with this woman and myself! I know better. I knew what needed to happen to put out her fire, and I didn’t do it. My defense, though justified, was not necessary, and I found myself grieved, even convicted in my spirit.

I sent her an apology for my tone of voice. She then proceeded to share all the inner workings of her heart that had led to misjudging me and attacking me. Thankfully, my witness is still intact, and I have the potential to minister to her and her family in the future. But I am saddened that my desire for vindication trumped her need to be heard. I was surprised by both my level of anger and my willingness to display it. I truly do not remember the last time I spoke in such a way.

Sin is always crouching at the door. We learn this from the third person to ever exist who also happens to be the first person to be born in sin! Cain’s anger toward his brother Abel caused the Lord to say, “Why are you angry? And why is your face gloomy? If you do well, will your face not be cheerful? And if you do not do well, sin is lurking at the door; and its desire is for you, but you must master it.” (Genesis 4:6–7)

Sin was obviously lurking at my door. God is gracious to humble me and to grow me in this way. I am thankful for the reminder this failure brings: I am redeemed and set free from my sin because of Christ’s sacrifice. He made Himself of no reputation and He intends to do the same with me. Through His strength, I can master my every inclination to defend myself, exalt myself, or prove myself in any way. Rather, I can choose to lean into my union with Him and calmly analyze the real issue at hand. I can view my attackers as more important than myself. By God’s grace, next time I will.