I had a thought this week, or maybe last.
It stopped me for a minute, made me anxious, made me wish for different, made me long for more.
Made me forget for a bit the more than enough that is mine.
I won't call it an epiphany because I consider epiphany good, of value and I suppose I find epiphany forward in thought.
No, not forward, my worries, they've been more backward.
I thought my thought, "What if the words stop coming? The so clear clarity needed to be recorded, what if I can't recall, if I can't record, if I for fear and time not free, become unable to write?"
My cousin told me it's coming.
She said she believes it is soon.
She's deliberate and decisive in her declaration. She speaks truth, cuts no corners, adds what makes better and leaves out what's not necessary.
She speaks the truth like she serves up dishes, plates it up, puts it in front of you, joins you there in the joy of her hands and then takes your plate away, leaves you full, content, lets you rest.
She knows I've been struggling. Tells me it's soon, the writing, the angels, not sure which or both; but, it's soon.
"God is going to give you freedom, Lisa and I believe, soon." she said.
But, I've been afraid although I know fear leads to nowhere.
Afraid I'm not enough, nor are my words or canvas.
Yes, crazy thing is I've written more and with more authenticity than ever before.
I've painted more often and more freely, more me and okay with me than ever in my life.
There's the fear of not enough, the insatiable emptiness caused by what if coupled with the pitiful thought of why not more.
I have been blessed. I assure you. I have.
Commissions for angels.
Another opportunity, chosen to be a guest writer on a well read blog.
Goes live tomorrow, my thoughts on gentleness.
I pray they turn minds, hearts and thoughts to good places, to God.
They are my words, my understanding, my relating to the story of Jesus and the time he initiated relationship with a woman at a well who'd decided herself unworthy.
A story of a gentle turning towards peace.
Yet, I've been afraid.
This week, last as well. I've been afraid of what may not be.
My days, the past two have been discombobulated. I'm going from thing to thing, told I could speak as long as needed, then someone else gets my attention by pointing frantically at their watch.
I get off track, room filled with faces, I struggle to know what should be said next, what to do, how to act, my chest aches, I'm afraid I've not done well, continue or stop abruptly?
Apologized for rambling then a self-proclaimed toastmaster tells me I should never apologize…no one knows you faltered…okay, yes, I know. I know.
Evening reading that's usually morning, Lord, set me free from the need to control, to be so very hesitant for fear of not being persistent!
So, I prayed. I circled round the word, Peace. I wrote it on my paper taped to my wall, the door closed, making dark my closet, the place I sometimes pray.
We walked, Colt and I. Approached the tall pines all clustered together.
The birds all frenzied it seemed, asking What? Where? Who?
I longed to see them, such a frantic chorus, the melody of not sure.
Could they know I understood?
We walked on towards the open, the sky a steely blue, sunset coming, changing our scene.
And it was gradual, so much so I noticed.
We got back to where we began and the birds, more settled or scattered, not sure.
But, less an obstruction to my quiet, we stopped to rest in the place we had always paused before but had not in a long time.
Not for awhile and I realized then I'd been rushing towards someplace, my steps more like darting chances or longing lunges.
Tired and afraid or afraid to be tired
and unable, incapable.
We turned towards home unleashed, the moon hazy above, just past dusk.
The Rose of Sharon, the rare one, my husband told me.
I noticed the bloom, open and resting, the glory of its color and it was the answer I felt, I saw…I was reminded of rest, wait, faith.
"Come, Colt." I said and he came and I was better, more at peace.
What I have begun, I know because of faith, which is more, so much more than feeling, I will continue.
Now finish the work, so that your eager willingness to do it may be matched by your completion of it, according to your means. For if the willingness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what one does not have.”
2 Corinthians 8:11-12 NIV
Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee to Tell His Story and a post I love so much…living a life that lines up with my talk.