Rachel Hamilton

Author | Writer | Traveler | Child of God | Kiwi Girl

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Little Girl.

So cute, her face bright with innocence, she pulled at my hand begging to show me something special, we did not speak the same language but we shared an understanding.

Her short brown hair, her cheeky grin, I saw me, the little girl with boundless energy.

We were visiting one of the prevention homes, places where children come if they are at risk of being forced into slavery and sexual exploitation.

This beautiful angel was protected from such evil, praise God for that.

Her eyes so alive, her heart so undamaged.

We sat on a blanket in the sun and she began creating me a feast of plastic food.

My heart rejoiced as I covered my pretend pizza in imaginary tomato sauce.

This was so pure and right, a child free to be a child.

This beautiful girl has become my motivation, my inspiration.

I want to do my part to see children run in fields of freedom, to protect and nurture innocence.

I pray with all my heart that I always do my part.

Find out more at Destiny Rescue




She sit under a tree and thinks about him.

How her heart skips a beat every time he says her name.

His love is pure and unending.

She remembers the first time he held her hand, so gentle, so kind.

But like a selfish child she often turns away, pretending he is not there, searching for his face in those around her, those who give her false attention.

She sees the couples sitting around her holding plastic valentine roses, the girls blushing with joy.

If he truly loved her he would give her flowers, why is she the only one with empty hands.

So she doubts his love, questions his goodness.

Hours pass, those around her pack up and leave, she is left alone feeling so forgotten so unloved.

Then she sees him, his face more handsome than she remembered, his eyes so understanding,

“My darling” he whispers “I know you have waited so long, I know you almost give up hope, I know you doubted my love, but I was preparing wonderful things for you.”

I did not give you a plastic flower because I was planting a rose garden for you.

“You worth is so great that I wanted to give you the very best.”

And as he gathered her up in his arms, she whispered his name “Jesus”.



I suffer with depression.

For so long I lied to myself that I didn’t but the reality is I do.

I have nights where I lie in bed and feel utterly hopeless and empty and that my life is all for nothing.

I don’t tell anyone, terrified they’ll judge me, tell me again that I have no reason to feel this way. I come from a good loving family, people have it much worse than me.

I’m deeply ashamed that I feel theses feelings.

So I keep quiet, locking the box of emotions up, only opening it in the safety of my dark room, letting the silent tears flow.

People tell me in a Christians life there is no room for depression because God fills us, but no matter how much I beg God to overflow in me I still feel the ache.

The truth is depression is one of the most challenging emotions we ever feel.

I have found freedom in accepting the fact I struggle with depression and understanding why I sometimes feel this way.

Through depression God has taught me to run to his arms first, he is the only one who reaches me in the deep valleys, Jesus knows the pain, he felt so much anguish his sweat was like drops of blood, he knows the reasons  why I ache even when I don’t.

Dear friend,

If you struggle with secret depression, please know I understand and care, you are so brave and strong, you are not messed up or crazy. God holds you and collects your tears every one of them. If you ever need prayer, a friend or just a listening ear email me anytime at rachysblogs@gmail.com

Your feelings matter.

You matter.

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In This Stillness.

I am so empty.

Have you let me run dry so I see I am nothing without you, my God?

Does this desert land teach me to lay down my plans, desires, hopes and dreams for your inspection?

I feel the loneliness acutely, the sleepless nights force me to face my imperfections and failures and shattered plans.

My broken dreams are not ungodly, they consist of worthy pursuits, reaching the lost, healing the hurting, touching the world for you.

But you have asked me to stay.

How do I accept this place you’ve called me to be.

Give me a sign, let me know you’re proud of me.

Teach me to surrender everything at your feet.

Help me find fulfilment right here, right now.

In this lonely place, reveal your heart, I want to be like you.




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Dear Brave Lonely One.

I see you.

How amazing you are,

but somewhere along the way someone told you a lie and you believed it.

You were told that you lacked worth and value, you were handed a poisoned apple of self-hate and you ate it core and all.

I feel your pain like it was my own, see the thin mask you wear trying to act so strong but alone in a dark room, crying yourself to sleep.

How I wish I could reach you, wash your fragile heart with the truth.

The truth that you are valued, amazing, wonderful, important.

Set apart, seen, loved, cherished.

I pray for you, believing one day you will know your true worth.