One brief post cannot do justice to this great year, but as a writer I must assay it. Even if I am not writing an essay on it.

On the first Sunday of the year, I attended a conference at the CrossTV studio, where I got to do one of my favorite things: give a prophetic word to a stranger. It was a mere five words—“Put on your dancing shoes”—but the lady was delighted. After recording it in her Bible, she informed me she was a dancer, and she’d given away a pair of gold ballet shoes just the day before!

A few minutes later, a different stranger was prompted to pray for me, and he used his prophetic gift to confirm something I’ve been praying for myself! Two days later on January 7, I was still basking in the glow of the spiritual fire when my city was ravaged by a physical fire.

Earlier I had picked January 7 to finish my debut novel, Gullible Travels. My editor was waiting for his advance reader copy, but my deadline was not to be. As I was typing away in my studio that evening, with the windows closed, the blinds drawn, and my phone muted so I wouldn’t be distracted, a deafening crash shattered my concentration. Peeping outside, I saw a violent windstorm underway, flinging full-grown palm fronds as though they were weightless ferns.

Heartbreaking stories continued to pour in for months. In the last week of August, I met a guy who had lost his home and his entire guitar collection in the Eaton fire. Many of the instruments had been signed by famous musicians and were collector’s items.

This guy himself had spent several months in hospital, having sustained serious injuries while trying to rescue his elderly parents and their horses as the house burned. Fighting back tears, he told me how grateful he was that his loved ones were spared even though his beloved guitars were gone.

Back in January, a friend had emailed saying his parents’ lives and their home had been spared in the Palisades fire. I was thankful to read these words in his letter:

My parents were able to rent the last room available in the small hotel across from my apartment. When they returned home, the power was off and my dad’s gas line tool was missing. He prayed, and a gracious firefighter passing by stopped, helped turn on the utilities and even jumpstarted my mom’s car that had died the day of the evacuation.

Some weeks after the fires, the Holy Spirit led me to undertake an extended fast. Although I was fasting for a different reason, my writing was elevated during this time.

I cannot count the number of times the Holy Spirit gave me an idea related to Gullible Travels while I was praying. He would inspire me to delete pointless passages or add new ones, most notably in chapter 2, which recounts my protagonist Lemuelle’s outrigger romance on the Big Island of Hawaii. I added two full pages in March because the Holy Spirit showed me I should give my readers a satisfying love story!

The edit involved considerable repagination, but it was worth it. My editor enjoyed that chapter, titled “My Luau Story,” and a few readers even asked if it was based on fact. That’s when I knew I had written good fiction. (Fiction writers, take note.)

Gullible Travels went out into the world on April 29, which marked the 20th anniversary of my becoming a US citizen. To celebrate, I went to the LA Convention Center, where my naturalization ceremony had taken place in April 2005.

Writing Lemuelle’s outrigger romance filled me with a yearning for the Big Island of Hawaii, where I’d lived in 1994–1995 as a student at YWAM’s University of the Nations in Kailua-Kona. Finances being tight, I could not hop on a plane, but I was smart enough to pray. And my heavenly Father answered me in a way I could never have foreseen.

One day in early September, my sister in Australia texted to say her family was visiting Honolulu in October and could I join them? They would cover my airfare and hotel!

And that’s how I found myself on UA1431 from LAX to Honolulu on October 22. I had never flown on my birthday before, and the United Airlines crew gave me a celebration to remember. It was also the first time I had a 27-hour birthday, Hawaii being three hours behind LA that time of year.

Apart from being with my sister and her family, highlights from Honolulu include ’Auana Cirque du Soleil, the Pearl Harbor memorial, and many sumptuous meals, including a final dinner at Roy’s Waikiki.

After bidding my sister reluctant farewell at Honolulu airport, I flew to Kona. Landing on the Big Island after thirty years ranks among my most surreal experiences ever. I remembered the airport, but I failed to recognize Kuakini Drive.

At one point, fearing the Uber driver was taking me for a ride, I said, “The address is Kuakini Highway.”

“This is Kuakini Highway,” he replied.

That’s when I knew that thirty years had come and gone.

I was staying at the University of the Nations (UofN) guest house, which was clean, comfortable, and convivial. It was also conveniently located, affording me the chance to wander all over campus as I’d done as a young woman in my twenties. I met a few old acquaintances like Yolanda Olson and Dennis Fahringer, and made many new ones. My cup truly overflowed.

From the UofN guest house, I could walk down to Ali’i Drive whenever I wanted. As the location of many a pleasant walk in the ’90s, Ali’i was the place where Lemuelle meets Prince Kam.

One day I rented a car and drove to Hilo, which also appears in chapter 2 of Gullible Travels: “One rainy evening early in our relationship, as we were driving through Hilo…”

Naturally, it rained as I drove through Hilo that evening.

Actually, it poured. Which pretty much sums up this year. It hasn’t just rained, it has poured!

It’s raining as I conclude this final piece of 2025, in these final hours of the year. And so I leave you with one of my favorite verses and wish you a refreshing 2026.

(c)2025 by Sharon Arpana Edwards. All Rights Reserved.