This Is the Story Behind A Wish in the Wind
The story behind every book is often the story God was writing in us first.
In this article, I share the personal journey that led me to faith—and how it ultimately became the inspiration for A Wish in the Wind.
I Didn't Know God Had Been There All Along
I was adopted when I was four months old. Years later, I learned there had been one unusual condition in my adoption paperwork: I couldn't be placed with an evangelical family.
Looking back, it seems like an odd detail to begin a faith story with. But perhaps it explains why my childhood contained almost no conversations about God.
Eventually, I landed in the loving arms of Sam and Jenny Korhonen, who became my parents.
My dad worked as an electrician at McClellan Air Force Base. My mom stayed home, though she never quite fit the picture of a typical homemaker. She preferred afternoons at the mall over afternoons in the kitchen and always made it home in time for her favorite soap opera, General Hospital.
I grew up with an older brother who had also been adopted, though from a different biological family. We had a German shepherd named Duchess, one black-and-white television, and a giant yellow station wagon with clear plastic seat covers that stuck to your legs on scorching California afternoons.
By every measure, we were an ordinary middle-class family. We didn't have much, but we never lacked what we needed.
What we didn't have was faith.
We didn't own a Bible. We never prayed before meals. Church wasn't part of our lives. In fact, I knew almost nothing about God.
The only time I regularly heard God's name—or Jesus'—was when my dad smashed his thumb with a hammer or hit his head on something in the garage. A colorful string of words would follow, and somewhere in the middle of them I'd hear, "Jesus Christ!"
As a little girl, I couldn't understand why this man named Jesus seemed to get blamed every time something went wrong.
Looking back now, our home probably fit every definition of a non-evangelical household. Yet God has a remarkable way of introducing Himself long before someone opens a Bible.
For me, He first whispered His presence through sunsets that painted the evening sky, birds singing outside my bedroom window, towering trees that danced in the breeze, and flowers that seemed too beautiful to have happened by accident.
Long before I knew His name, I was already falling in love with His creation.
And without realizing it, creation was quietly leading me to its Creator.
If Only I Knew Your Name
"Who are You?"
It was a question I whispered more than once as a little girl.
I couldn't see Him with my eyes or hear Him with my ears, yet somehow His presence felt unmistakably real. I didn't know His name, but I was beginning to know His heart.
When I stood beside a rushing waterfall, I wondered if His voice might sound like that—strong enough to shake the earth and yet beautiful enough to make me stop and listen.
“His voice ... strong enough to shake the earth and yet beautiful enough to make me stop and listen.”
When a tiny ladybug landed in my hand, I marveled at the careful detail of every black spot against its brilliant red wings. Whoever made this must delight in beauty.
Lying in the grass, I searched the endless sky, secretly hoping He might part the clouds and show Himself to me.
Standing at the edge of the ocean, I watched wave after wave crash against the shore and wondered how Someone could be powerful enough to hold it all together.
Everywhere I looked, creation seemed to be telling me something about its Creator.
His strength.
His beauty.
His creativity.
His order.
His gentleness.
His power.
There was something incredibly comforting about believing there had to be a God. A God who made all of this. A God who somehow made me feel safe, even though I had never met Him.
But that comfort came with an ache.
How could I know so much about Someone...and yet know so little?
More than anything, I wanted to know His name.
Then I Learned His Name
Summertime meant one thing in my neighborhood—freedom.
As long as we promised to be home for dinner, my brother and I could spend our days exploring. We rode our bikes through the neighborhood, stopped by the park, and spent our allowance on popsicles and candy bars at the local grocery store.
My prized possession was a purple bicycle with a white basket and matching streamers that fluttered behind me as I rode.
One afternoon, something caught my attention in a nearby cul-de-sac.
A large bus had been transformed into a classroom. A simple sign invited children to come hear the Good News.
Curious, I parked my bike and climbed aboard.
An older woman greeted me with a warm smile. Before long, she told me something that changed my life forever.
"God has a name."
His name is Jesus.
It felt like the missing piece of a puzzle I had been trying to solve for years.
The God I had searched for in waterfalls...
The God I had wondered about beneath the stars...
The God whose fingerprints I saw in ladybugs, sunsets, and crashing ocean waves...
He had a name.
I wanted to know everything.
The woman smiled and kept talking.
She told me that this God loved me.
Me.
She explained that Jesus came to earth because He wanted a relationship with me. That He died for my sins so I could become part of His family.
For the first time in my life, I realized the Creator I had admired from a distance wasn't distant at all.
He wanted me.
When she asked if I wanted to pray, my answer came easily.
"Yes."
Together we bowed our heads.
"Dear Jesus,
Thank You for dying on the cross for my sins.
Thank You for loving me.
Please forgive my sins and come into my heart.
Amen."
When I opened my eyes, everything looked exactly the same.
The bus was still there.
My purple bicycle was still waiting outside.
The California sun still warmed the pavement beneath my feet.
But something inside me had changed.
I finally knew His name.
That summer wasn't the end of my story with Jesus. In many ways, it was only the beginning. It would take years for my faith to grow, deepen, and truly shape my life. But God never stopped pursuing me. Patiently, faithfully, and with extraordinary kindness, He continued revealing Himself—one step at a time.
A Wish in the Wind isn't just the story of a little girl discovering God through creation. It's the story of how He first introduced Himself to me.
It would take years for my faith to mature, but this was the beginning...
I Can't Help But Wonder...
As I look back now, I can't help but wonder...
Where is God in your story?
Has He been quietly revealing Himself in ways you didn't recognize at the time? Through the beauty of creation... the kindness of another person... a longing you couldn't quite explain... or a question that refused to go away?
Sometimes our view of God becomes clouded by the brokenness of this world, painful experiences, religion without relationship, or the shortcomings of imperfect people. Yet none of those things change who He is.
His goodness is still on display.
“His goodness is still on display.”
If you're searching, I want to encourage you to slow down and look again.
Step outside.
Watch a sunrise.
Stand beside the ocean.
Listen to the birds.
Hold a flower in your hand.
Ask God to open your eyes to the fingerprints of His love all around you. Ask Him to reveal Himself to you in a fresh and personal way.
Look up.
"The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands."
Psalm 19:1 (NIV)
A Wish in the Wind wasn't born from my imagination. It was born from my own story.
As a little girl, I searched the skies with questions I didn't yet have the words to ask. I found myself captivated by the beauty of creation, sensing there had to be Someone behind it all. I just didn't know His name.
That longing became the heartbeat of this book.
My hope is that every child—and every adult who reads it—will pause long enough to notice the wonder around them and discover what I eventually discovered:
Creation doesn't point to itself.
It points to its Creator.
“Creation doesn’t point to itself. It points to its Creator.”
And perhaps, just perhaps... this is the beginning of your story.
Continue the Journey
If this story encouraged you, I'd love for you to continue the journey with me.
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