By Hannah Currie, @hannah_currie_author

I don’t know about the rest of you but life has seemed pretty overwhelming these past few years. My normal coping mechanisms have flown out the window with the pace of it all (and things well out of my control… here’s looking at you worldwide pandemic), and I’ve been left floundering. And where I’d normally throw my frustrations at a lack of control into my writing, my characters and plots have had me on my knees almost as much as real life. If not more. 

Needless to say, I’ve been a mess. With my next book’s edits due, and no idea how to fix all the problems. Because my heart was too broken over a friend’s heartbreak. And an email from a stranger. And the story I’d seen on the news that morning. And the long list of unanswered prayers in my journal. And my kids needing their mom. And a score of decisions I was too out of my depth to make. And the newsletter I hadn’t yet written. And…  

Good Friday, I put that all aside and went to church. I went expecting to be overwhelmed all over again by Jesus’ sacrifice and the incredible lengths he’d gone to to save the world. To save me. And I was. But more than that, I was overwhelmed by five little words that repeated through the Scriptures the pastors chose to read:

I have heard your cry.

To the Israelites struggling under Pharaoh’s harsh rule. I have heard your cry.

To those who’d wandered their whole lives in the desert. I have heard your cry.

To David and Simeon and Anna and so many other faithful who’d waited and prayed for a Savior. I have heard your cry.

And as I sat there, staring at the cross spotlighted on the stage, I heard God tell me the same. 

I have heard your cry. 

At first, I kind of scoffed. Yeah, God? Which one? Because—

All of them. 

Tears came to my eyes as the immense truth of that sunk in. The big things, the little things, the things that broke me time and time again, the things I tried to hide because I felt stupid even bothering God with. He’d heard me. 

My cry for my characters and the manuscript I was currently stressing over—aching for the right words, that the theme would come through, that beyond the words, I’d find the heart of the story. The message God wanted. 

My cry for an author friend who’s put everything she possibly could for years into getting published but is still waiting. 

My cry for my family, my friends, my workmates, the prodigals in my life.

My cry for my books, that they would reach those who need them, encourage those in need of hope, speak to the hearts of those who wonder if a second chance is available for them. 

My cry for answers, and wisdom. 

My cry for justice and hope in a world that breaks my heart daily, time and time again. 

And though, like the Israelites, answers might not be coming just yet, silence doesn’t mean ignorance. God is working. God is preparing. God is listening. God is. Just… God is. 

I don’t know where you’re at today but please know this, God has heard your cry. The prayers you’ve prayed for years, the aches too painful or personal to speak aloud, the frustrations that don’t even seem worth praying. He hears them. He treasures them. He treasures you. You are heard. You are not forgotten. Not passed over. Not missed. 

He has heard your cry. 

Keep praying. 

Keep believing. 

Don’t give up.

You are not alone. 

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Bring Her Home

Since the morning he woke to find his precious daughter gone with only the remains of their latest argument left behind, King Lior has been praying she’d come home. For four years now, he’s prayed and searched, sending his best knights to find Evangeline, only to hear nothing. Until the day their missive arrives with three words: we’ve found her. He sends one right back with orders to bring her home.

But that order isn’t easily achieved. Evangeline, now a lowly servant, has no plans to return. Though the knights claim her father still loves her, she knows the truth: he’d cast her aside as quickly as everyone else if he knew how far she’d truly fallen. She can’t go home. Not with her scars. Or her failures. Or her son.

Only, the knights won’t leave without her. And just as she starts to wonder if maybe they might be right, the choice is taken from her altogether.

Sir Darrek thought the hardest part of his quest would be finding Evangeline. He had no idea how difficult it would be to get her home.

Hannah Currie has loved royals—both real and fictional—for as long as she can remember and has always been fascinated by their lives. They started making their way into her writing somewhere around first grade, and never stopped. While she never dreamed of being a princess for real (way too many expectations and people watching), she certainly wouldn’t say no to the gorgeous gowns, endless wardrobes, chefs and cleaners that come with the job. A crown or two wouldn’t go astray either. Or Belle’s library. Where she’d just sit and stare at the books with a giddy smile on her face for hours.

Hannah lives with her husband and three kids in Australia, where they proudly claim the royal family as their own. She is very honored to be one of the launching authors for the new WhiteCrown Publishing line with her Crown of Promise series full of faith, romance and—of course—royals.