Hello! Welcome to Pursued. I’m so glad you stopped by. My name is Becca Blomker, and when given the gift of a quiet moment, I pick up my laptop and breath life and color into every-day redemption stories.

You know these stories because you live them too—like splintered glass on the living room carpet, a sheepish boy gripping a baseball bat, and a mama (that’s me!) with hands on her hips praying for grace. Perhaps your daily story-line reads differently, but like me, you live intermingled threads of tears and joy.

And maybe you carry the memory of stories that burned your soul, leaving cold cinders of faith and the smoldering question: “Where is God?”

I carry stories like those. For a season I accused God of abandoning me in the middle of a tragic story-line. But God slowly stoked the cinders of my soul, saying, “My daughter! Look and see—I am with you now. I was with you then. I’m pursuing you through fire because I want to give you the greatest gift—Myself!”

So today, everyday, I’m praying for the grace to surrender the authorship of my story to Father-God. It’s painful, this process of surrendering, because I like to write my own story, to wrench the pen from the hand of God and ink in the American Dream. But when I loosen my grip, allowing Him to write in ER visits, inexplicable illnesses, and searing loss alongside bubbles in the wind, newborn babies, and music in the park, I begin to see Beauty in tragedy.

I begin to fully live.

Writing stories helps me see and savor the Beauty of God in everyday life and live today’s story as a reflection of Jesus’ surrender to death on a Tree for love of you and me.

I pray that as you read stories here at Pursued, you begin to see more of Jesus in your own story. I pray that together we embrace a fuller surrender of our story-lines to His Pursing Love.

So, pull up a chair, my sister, my brother, and read on.

Becca Blomker

Now, a little of my own story: This guy in the glasses IMG_4207 5x7and blue button-down is Jon, my contemplative counselor-husband. He makes me laugh out loud and helps me embrace the paradoxes of life. We met in a computer lab at the University of Northwestern, and his first words to me went something like this: “The problem isn’t the computer, it’s the person staring at the screen.” But more of that love story another time.

As for me–I  school our kiddos at home, take classes towards an MA in Biblical Counseling, and spend half my Saturdays on a  football field watching our boys throw pigskin and bloody their knees. When given the rare jewel of a extra hour, I peruse a classic like Cry, The Beloved Country or put on my tennis shoes and run for the joy of it.

As for the little people in our household . . . . this photo captures the comedic nature of our sports-loving, dirt-digging, bloody-nose-wrestling boys. They teach me football plays–“Run a slant mom!” and IMG_4409 5x7challenge me with questions like this: “Mom, how can humans get brainwashed?”

This last photo captures the fierce independence and soulful beauty of little “E.” At eighteen months she locked Jon and I and the boys in the basement of an empty house. While Jon dialed 911, E danced across the floor above our heads, and the 911 operator laughed out loud. But again, that’s another story for another day.IMG_4289 5x7crop

Together we live in a little town home in a Midwest suburb, learning to let go of stuff, love much, and see ourselves and others as living stories of grace and Redemption.

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