and the kitten climbed the skinny crepe myrtle higher,
leaves fell like feathers and I underlined, then reread.
“Doing those deeply unfashionable things…slowing down, letting your spare time expand, getting enough sleep, resting…is a radical act now, but it is essential. This is a crossroads we all know, a moment when you need to shed a skin.
If you do, you’ll expose all these painful nerve endings and feel so raw that you’ll need to take care of yourself for a while.
If you don’t, then that skin will harden around you. It’s one of the most important choices you’ll ever make.”
“Wintering, The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times” by Katherine May
I lost my glasses on Monday, the cute ones, the ones a little bolder than my typical tortoise or black. Like most people my age, there are spare pairs everywhere. But, not on Monday.
We drove down the pretty road bordered with deeply rooted trees. Her mama had left a forgotten treat in the mailbox.
So early in the day, my readers must have slipped from my pocket or fell from my lap.
It’s an interesting dependence I now have on them, like a security blanket for a baby.
I catch myself thinking I have a pair like a headband only to pat the top of my head to be sure they’re there and find only hair.
On Monday, I was without them. I warned people I responded to in texts. They were unbothered by my typos.
By the end of the day I was managing just fine. My daughter didn’t find them on the road and I decided, oh well they’re just gone.
I gathered my things in the passenger seat once I was at home. Glanced down in the space between seat and console and saw a strange sight. I decided my husband had left some stuff in my car.
A little glass case, black with faux fancy logo with a pair of readers in the color peridot. I lost them so long ago.
Not as fancy as the blue, but I loved them and missed them.
Why am I writing about finding reading glasses?
It’s the thought that came after, the clarity in a sweet message from God.
About good in God’s time and God’s way, about the way answers come when we accept we don’t know, can’t be in control of everything.
The way God is the very best at the “art of surprising”.
On Tuesday, my granddaughter wanted another treat. It was close to lunchtime and she had a slight runny nose, but would never tell her grandma she was feeling bad.
(Memories of her strong mama here, rarely voicing a need or trouble.)
I let her lay on the floor, not flailing but fussing. Let her let her mood play out, allowed her to reconcile what she wanted with what her person in charge decided was best.
From the kitchen, I heard her whine change to elation.
“I found Gamma’s cross! Grandma, I found Gamma’s cross!”
She ran over and handed me the tiny gold cross, the one Gamma lost months ago and we all searched until we settled on not finding and stopped searching.
I called Gamma. Told her “Guess what?” and quoted our precious granddaughter.
She found the cross.
Under the couch, found when a little toddler tantrum decided to get quiet and lift the fabric of the couch to hide underneath. How she spotted it is really nothing short of a miracle.
No one else would’ve looked there.
Yesterday, we had a sweet day together. The back seat of my car strewn with a used pull-up, tiny books, little cards and juicy cups, and “guess what?”
My fancy blue glasses.
Hmmm, a surprise.
I had a thought yesterday as I listened to the words of a popular song “My Jesus”.
I thought “I don’t feel the nearness of Jesus now.”
I told God that very thing, asked Him to help me see what’s blocking my view or maybe, just to show me it’s okay to not always be searching, rather to wait for his revealing.
Gamma and Grandma both wear crosses, I suppose it’s one of our granddaughter, Elizabeth’s favorite things, our necklaces.
And our bracelets.
Yesterday, she sat in my lap and asked about every charm on my bracelet, the tiny artist palette, the little girl and boy silhouettes, her mommy and her uncle. She spotted the tiny angel, a gift from my husband prior to her birth. She said “That’s like my angel”, an angel her mama’s grandma gave her when she was just a baby.
One charm she skipped over is the circle with the missing charm, a tiny mustard seed enclosed in glass. Lost so long ago, I stopped searching.
When I called Gamma, teary with excitement, she called our granddaughter “my angel” and I agreed.
She added, “Now, let’s wait for her to find your mustard seed!”
“That would be something!” I said.
The sketches on the thin pages of my Bible often overlap with faded color, the Psalms especially.
“You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways.” Psalm 139:3 ESV
I lost my glasses on Monday, the cute ones, the ones a little bolder than my typical tortoise or black. Like most people my age, there are spare pairs everywhere. But, not on Monday.
We drove down the pretty road bordered with deeply rooted trees. Her mama had left a forgotten treat in the mailbox.
So early in the day, my readers must have slipped from my pocket or fell from my lap.
It’s an interesting dependence I now have on them, like a security blanket for a baby.
I catch myself thinking I have a pair like a headband only to pat the top of my head to be sure they’re there and find only hair.
On Monday, I was without them. I warned people I responded to in text. They were unbothered by my typos.
By the end of the day I was managing just fine. My daughter didn’t find them on the road and I decided, oh well they’re just gone.
I gathered my things in the passenger seat once I was at home. Glanced down in the space between seat and console and saw a strange sight. I decided my husband had left some stuff in my car.
A little glass case, black with faux fancy logo with a pair of readers in the color peridot, my birthday stone.
I lost them so long ago.
Not as fancy as the blue, but I loved them and missed them.
Why am I writing about finding reading glasses?
It’s the thought that came.
The thought about good in God’s time and God’s way, about the way answers come when we accept we don’t know.
The way God is the very best at the “art of surprising”.
On Tuesday, my granddaughter wanted another treat. It was close to lunchtime and she had a slight runny nose, but would never tell her grandma she was feeling bad.
(Memories of her strong mama here, rarely voicing a need or trouble.)
I let her lay on the floor, not flailing but fussing. Let her let her mood play out, allowed her to reconcile what she wanted with what her person in charge decided was best.
From the kitchen, I heard her whine change to elation.
“I found Gamma’s cross! Grandma, I found Gamma’s cross!”
She ran over and handed me the tiny gold cross, the one Gamma lost months ago and we all searched until we settled on not finding and stopped searching.
I called Gamma. Told her, “Guess what?” and quoted our precious granddaughter.
She found the cross.
Under the couch, found when a little toddler tantrum decided to get quiet and lift the fabric of the couch to think. How she spotted it is really nothing short of a miracle.
Yesterday, we had a sweet day together. The back seat of my car strewn with a used pull-up, tiny books, little cards and juicy cups, and “guess what?”
My fancy blue glasses.
God is good always. Always present, always waiting for us to find Him.
I had a thought yesterday as I listened to the words of a popular song “My Jesus”.
I thought “I don’t feel the nearness of Jesus now.”
An honest admission that confirms feelings aren’t always the most accurate assessments of our joy or our pain.
To admit a lack opens our hearts to a closer examination of whether we’ve been working too hard to find God and forgetting He’s never left us.
Like the glasses, appearing when I decided I’d never find them, they were waiting for my discovering.
How does it make you feel to know that God is sovereign, knows everything?
David understood.
His sinful choices, his wandering away always led to an unrelenting confession,
God you never left me, I once again lost my way.
Choosing to know God knows everything about me is either scary and vulnerable or it is surprisingly and steadily comforting.
It’s our choice.
Either way God never misplaces us, forgets where he left us or refuses our finding when we go on our own way.
There’s a tiny mustard seed charm lying somewhere that came unglued from my bracelet.
It’s been lost so long I’ve stopped searching.
Gamma and I are hoping our angel finds it. Boy, that would be some surprise!
But, if not all is good with my faith.
With God and I
It is well with my soul and God is close.
Prone to wonder and wander.
My Father certainly knows my way.
“God, I invite your searching gaze into my heart. Examine me through and through; find out everything that may be hidden within me. Put me to the test and sift through all my anxious cares.
See if there is any path of pain I’m walking on, and lead me back to your glorious, everlasting way— the path that brings me back to you.” Psalms 139:23-24 TPT
After the sleepover, I discovered my granddaughter had placed the little heart in the little hand.
I remember being captivated by my grandmother’s things, wanting to hold them.
Longing to understand their worth, her little trinkets, her jewelry, her talcum powder and Jergen’s cherry lotion.
They were her.
I woke this morning with a few words
“Choose this day, choose life or death.”
Incline Your Heart
I found the passage in the Old Testament, the historical account of Joshua’s life.
The battle of Jericho, the passage telling us to be strong and courageous, God is with us.
And this one, with the last few words you may find in a home, often a gift for newly married.
“And if it is evil in your eyes to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your fathers served in the region beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you dwell.
But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” Joshua 24:15 ESV
These are strong exhortations to people in battle, to choose God’s way or the other gods of their history.
For me, they mean simply “choose life” today.
Choose love or fear. Choose trust over doubt. Choose bravery over insecurity.
Choose to not forfeit your day to anxiety or depression over uncontrollable circumstances.
Choose to be light rather than heavy.
To let be what will be with a satisfied spirit.
Grace is enough. The grace you’ve known and the overflow that is promised.
Choose forgiveness over fretting.
Choose Today
…incline your heart to the Lord. Joshua 24:33
The little heart still rests in the hand.
The heart left on my doorstep by my pastor as a love offering in sympathy of my mama’s passing tells me
Love goes on.
I notice my orchid, revived and repotted has tiny tissue paper buds this morning.
“Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.” Jeremiah 33:3 NIV
I’ve been searching for the best description in words for an idea for I’m guessing…years. I prayed this morning asking God a simple thing, not a God-sized problem, really just a task.
I have an Artist Market on Sunday. I don’t know what or how much to take for my display. I thought of asking the question in an Instagram story, a little poll. But, I’ve not had much success with this, I don’t think my graphics are fancy enough.
What would be wonderful is if I had a friend to help me say,
“Okay, this best represents you, so let’s decide what you should display so that not you so much, but your message is on display.”
See, here’s the thing. I prayed with coffee and a kitten on my lap. I prayed that very thing.
God, help me to choose what best represents your redemptive work in me and conveys that very grace to others.
I let the prayer rest, the one that came with such accuracy. The word I’d been searching for, “representation” came like a friend with flowers at the door, a “surprise” with her hello.
A representation, a portrayal of someone or something. May it be so, Lord.
May I be so.
And may I remember this chilly morning when an answer came quickly.
May I remember the one that came in the swirl of leaves at my feet yesterday. Even in the flurry of thoughts, a gift of clear comfort came.
May I remember your presence.
May I remember the one that came in reply to sullen surrender of a situation, with honesty over my muddling through the motions of trust. May I remember when I accepted what is not mine to change, a happy unexpected gift came.
May I remember the unrivaled power of the secret prayer spoken honestly with a friend.
I opened the tattered devotional to the pages marked Day 4 and found the list in faded blue ink. There are names of people here who aren’t here any longer.
The name of my pastor back then, other family, friends and I think a friend of my son from his middle school years, Will.
There’s the name of the little boy, Noah who was pretending to drive and put the SUV into reverse. He ran over and killed his mama.
There’s the prayer of surrender to and acceptance of outcomes. There is the word “thanks” for my home and husband.
There is the tender request for my children still children back then, I asked God to give them joy.
That prayer is recorded. My request is unending, no expiration.
Joy for them, joy unexpected.
“You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?” Psalm 56:8 ESV
Recalling my restlessness last night I decide if there was something fearful to have play out in a series of dreams like short films, last night I dreamt an entire season.
No cause known, nothing unsettled, I decide it’s because I gave my mind no rest yesterday. I was on overdrive towards organizing all the tasks to come.
My second evening of adding running to walking, I came home to discover we had no hot water. So, no shower to help unravel the day.
All of this hurried unexpectedness led to no rest.
All is well. I am fully known and loved.
I shall move now into Thursday.
Remembering God.
He steadies me. I don’t have to take control.
The way ahead is safe as are my thoughts, questions and prayers.
Safe and sound.
Settled already.
“Look straight ahead, and fix your eyes on what lies before you. Mark out a straight path for your feet; stay on the safe path.” Proverbs 4:25-26 NLT
I think of my education, my experiences and opportunities I pursued bravely or with naivety. I think of little expressions I use to keep myself grounded and at the same time a risk taker. Scripture like all things are possible with God often lead me to think any and everything is worth trying.
But, that leads to half-heartedness or worse, failure because of a lack of knowledge.
Then the decision to stay on the path set for me, the one I know.
Today, I’ll paint thick crosses gilded gold on small canvases to be Christmas ornaments.
I thought of venturing into something new, but crosses are what I know, what I do.
Did I sense God saying “stay simple, Lisa”? Yes, I did. Some call that wisdom, gut feeling, intuition.
I know it’s His Spirit.
A favorite bit of advice I give to friends and family in a new challenge, a scary opportunity for which they doubt their ability is this.
Write “trust” on the place in your palm just below the base of your thumb. Imagine holding hands with Jesus. Imagine his thumb wrapped gently in a loving handhold. Imagine Him beside you.
Trust what you can’t physically feel. Trust that whatever your assignment, God will equip you. Trust that whatever burden or hardship you are carrying, the load is easier when shared.
“Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.” Matthew 11:28-30 NLT
Lord, help us to remember today that it is you who equips us for life. Help us quietly seek you in private and personal ways so that we can imagine the friendship of you, our helper, our strong defender and guide.
“…His grace will lead you in small things as well as great.” Jean Nicolas Grou
I returned to my September spot this morning. I told myself October would be a reset in my health, holiness and change.
Instead, very little changed simply by changing my morning spot. If anything it sort of stalled everything. No table for coffee, no place to place my Bible except my lap.
The morning sunlight through the blinds was blinding instead of a glorious welcome.
Still, I stubbornly chose to sit in the spot because someone said it helps to change your routine, helps to motivate you to do simple things like choosing a different chair.
Three days before November, I’m back on the sofa, my spot on the end.
I look to my left and am reminded.
This is the place of my peace, of growth, acceptance and connection with Jesus.
I gaze at the empty chair, the one that was weathered yellow when I took it from my mama’s house. Now it’s a soft white and becoming more worn from sitting, less angelic.
It’s a soft place.
I look towards the wall and see the sunlight beams finding my art. I see why I needed to return and move slowly towards November.
The place on the sofa that accepts me as I am and greets me with how far I’ve come.
I’ll reserve my mama’s chair for reading or for a certain toddler to rest her chin on the arm as she takes a break from being a “monkey jumpin’ on the bed”.
I’ll treasure the legacy of the yellow garage sale chair, the one that felt special in my mama’s old home and is even more at rest here.
The tiny Target pillow amongst the others reminding me to “see good in all things”.
See good and walk freely.
“and I shall walk in a wide place, for I have sought your precepts.” Psalm 119:45 ESV
we run away from our discomfort... but it doesn't leave us. to heal we need to turn around and face it, experience it and once we truly do we are out of it. We heal and we grow.
2 Timothy 1:7-8 For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline. This blog is about my Christian walk. Join me for the adventure.
Lisa Anne Tindal 