On Sunday, I felt the tone in my voice change to excited, the chance to tell again how it all started, women in redemptive poses, muses of my art.
The story of a new Bible for Christmas, the trend catching on of filling margins with notes, colorful stickers or maybe drawings.
I was reluctant. I remembered warnings of never let your Bible touch the floor, leave it somewhere safe, underline some things and write on little pieces of paper tucked away, the sins you keep sinning.
That’s what you need to remember most, I was raised to think. Keep track of your wrongs, only consider the tiny chance you are worthy of grace.
I was in awe of the mysterious unattainable gift of the Holy Bible for many years.
Gradually, when time alone brought comfort, I began timid sketches of women and stories I could see myself in comparable pain, joy, messes made or willingness to learn.
Willing to come nearer to God.
Brave enough to trust His love.
Love Binds
“And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.” Colossians 3:14 ESV
I heard love in my voice on Sunday, felt it in the fluttery words lifted into the air as I stood surrounded by my art.
This thing I get to do that leads to stories of a Bible filled with drawings, the word “trust” in dark pen to greet me.
Listening as a passerby stops to say, “This one speaks to me.” I listen and am grateful for the gift of their emotion, their interpretation of the canvas.
Thank you seems insufficient and to add “it means so much” seem like the reply of an amateur, not a “real” artist.
But, I tell them. I tell the ones who see themselves in my art that their purchase, their kind words are a gift.
Because, I mean it and rare is the occasion I say something I don’t mean.
Share your thoughts, words and trust.
You never know what a gift to them it may be.
The gift of you sharing “your Bible”, your life.
Open your Bible, let it speak then speak it through your story.
“I will give you the treasures of darkness and the hoards in secret places, that you may know that it is I, the Lord, the God of Israel, who call you by your name.” Isaiah 45:3 ESV
Early Mornings
I could easily sleep an extra 30, instead I wake to the quiet ring of an almost silenced tone. It takes very little to rouse me. Early mornings have a ritual when work shifts allow my husband to sleep in.
I move to slide my phone to my palm, find my glasses, take a few steps to the bedpost for my soft robe, round the corner soft stepping to the door, I pull it towards me, towards the hall.
I walk softly towards the lamplight of the kitchen, glass of water then coffee with cream and honey.
The spot I call morning calls me and once again I open my journal, write the word “trust” and encircle the names of my children.
I find October 26th on the thin pages and I see the verse above. I sit and read commentaries from people of the 1800’s.
These are the things of my mornings, commitments that may seem to some a ritual.
But, it’s not what I read in the obscure dark of morning, it’s the epiphanies that come as I’m driving country roads and certain knowledge that comes as the daylight comes
Will come more knowledge.
More brilliance, power and a hand raised in the solitude of my car upon recognition and joy that there is power in prayer.
Power that can be shared and power that I’ve asked God to help others experience for themselves.
A car in front of me struggled this morning, driving noticeably too slow. I followed not to close and saw the little car’s tires rub against the curb and then correct. The car accelerated then and I decided I either startled the driver or shook their almost slumber. Finally, they turned onto the road I hope led home.
Another set of headlights followed me too closely and I maintained my course, did my best not to be annoyed.
Because I saw them in a new light.
I considered maybe they don’t like darkness driving either. Maybe my morning route seemed steady to them. Perhaps, they felt safe following me, so no need to speed around me or to hurry.
It’s this way with faith. When we’re steady when steadiness makes so sense.
We continue. We grow. We show others we’re not fully grown, we just keep walking, stumbling in the steps we’re certain keep us moving with and towards God.
Prayer walking, praying at all times and in every situation brings light to our darkness.
The light of the world to our own little worlds.
Continue and believe.
“Don’t be pulled in different directions or worried about a thing. Be saturated in prayer throughout each day, offering your faith-filled requests before God with overflowing gratitude. Tell him every detail of your life, then God’s wonderful peace that transcends human understanding, will guard your heart and mind through Jesus Christ.” Philippians 4:6-7 TPT
Believe in the power of prayer.
The power of a spectacular new day, the sunrise the color of zinnias.
Every window called me closer, the horizon layered in a display of indigo, grey and powdery blue.
The clouds thick and volcanic in puffed up borders.
The Day 25 of 31 days of writing prompt is “think”. Rather than thinking immediately, “I got this”
I got nothing.
Other than the decision to continue learning that my thoughts are directly related to my feelings and my feelings have fault lines in the places they’re unavoidably connected to past trauma.
So, today when anxiety threatened over something similar to long ago, instead of bracing for battle and chastising myself and my thinking by saying to self “This is not that.” in a “snap out of it” tone
I elaborated by thinking, “No,
This is not that. But it is the same feeling.”
Then I gave myself permission to do a calm comparison.
I have feelings. But I’m not the actual feeling.
I can feel uncertain and still have a little self- aware conversation and become more certain.
Now, here I am at dusk. The clouds of morning giving way to night.
I’m still captivated.
Maybe I’m closer to viewing life this way.
Captivated.
The geese are now approaching.
I think of my mama, lovingly, longingly, loyally.
This evening not being the “that” of those before.
“So now wrap your heart tightly around the hope that lives within us, knowing that God always keeps his promises!” Hebrews 10:23 TPT
More than one person has agreed with me, “I’m putting up my Christmas tree early this year.”
Like the leaves changing and popping out brilliant colors, Winter comes and with it, Christmas.
With Christmas, hope.
Witt hope, peace on earth, in our homes.
Hope anyway and always.
Draws us nearer to Jesus in the quiet place of hoping for better, intentionally making the holidays more about God’s gift to us than whether we’ll have gifts for others.
So, maybe decorate early. Sit in the silent evening. Consider your tree as you remember the rugged cross.
“Draw me nearer, nearer blessed Lord, To the cross where Thou hast died; Draw me nearer, nearer, nearer blessed Lord, To Thy precious, bleeding side.” Fannie Crosby
“When you walk, your steps will not be hampered; when you run, you will not stumble.” Proverbs 4:12 NIV
I’m remembering just now, my grandmother took us all walking. The cousin weekend retreat always included a walk on the curvy clay road.
How had it not realized the resemblance until now…the deep ditches covered in growth, the ditches we’d jump in and stand still like statues until the old truck passed by?
My grandmother commanding, “Hit the Ditch”.
How we remember becomes how we see.
I’m reading two new books, one fiction the other non. One discovered and one recommended, “Sugar Birds” by Cheryl Bostrom and “Your Stories Don’t Define You” by Sarah Elkins.
Barely into either, I am learning.
Ideas like telling your story to and through others and the power of memories we give ourselves permission to explore more deeply, building a better story.
When my granddaughter and I walk, we sing a little song about staying safely in the middle and we’ve made a game of jumping over roots instead of getting tangled.
Yet, when I walk alone, the neighborhood walking trail or the sharp turn on the busy road, I’m less cautious, in a way a stubborn walker.
The trail is disrupted by large old roots. I walk swiftly and keep on even though on a few occurrences the toe of my shoe butts up against the thick branch and I catch myself from falling face first.
It occurs to me it’s a stubborn resilience, this choice.
It occurs to me now I choose the dangerous path because I’ve decided it’s still my assignment to not be defeated by it.
Later, I’ll walk the trail and I’ll will myself off the broken up paved path and step aside to walk a few steps on the soft grass.
I can give myself permission to choose softer, I can decide to be welcome there, the place of choosing easy over hard, peace in regards to my past instead of handicap.
On day 22 of the month of October I compare translations of Psalm 46:10.
Psalm 46 begins with a promise. I’ve begun saying, “God, you know all about this.” as a way to wait for resolution, acceptance or change in troubling situations.
Because God knows. God is in control. God is good even when we don’t see eye to eye on things.
“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.” Psalms 46:1-3 NIV
Another passage reminds me that God knows me, knows my questions, knows my thoughts, is aware of my waiting, even more so my worries.
I am reminded He knows me, called me to be near.
Summoned me.
Most translations of Isaiah 43:1 use the word “called”. The New International Version prefers “summoned”.
Imagine you being called back home from a distance. Maybe someone spots you in a large crowd, a concert or fair. You’ve gotten separated and your circles haven’t circled back.
You hear your name and you look to find the voice. Again, again your name is called, begging you to come back or at least let me know where you are.
That you’re safe.
Or imagine a child in a department store, wandered away as you look for a size or color. You look up and they’re gone. You call frantically, you rush from aisle to aisle, oblivious to the glare of onlookers as you call your baby’s name.
Finally, you’re reunited.
You try to contain your emotions, you try not to let your desperate fear be bigger than the relief of the sweet reunion.
I believe it’s this way when we forget God has the whole world in His hands, that He can be trusted, that He is for us.
I believe that even when all is not okay and there’s no changing it, we’re still better if we don’t slip away and try to rescue ourselves from sadness and distress.
Piling anxious questions on top of what’s already mysterious, forgetting He’s fighting for us, always has, always will.
“The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” Exodus 14:14 NIV
I sketched a figure in the margin of Isaiah’s words. I added “Fear not.” to the words already pencilled there,
“But now, this is what the Lord says— he who created you, Jacob, he who formed you, Israel: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” Isaiah 43:1-2 NIV
Created me, called me, redeemed me.
Be still simply means wait.
Waiting with hope or with acceptance that I may wait without knowing all.
“We may throw the dice, but the Lord determines how they fall.” Proverbs 16:33 NLT
Barely awake, I opened my email account. Scrolled past random messages from people, groups, companies I don’t know.
Rather than swiping to delete, I took a bolder step. I unsubscribed. Many of these emails are about writing, about platform, about getting published. They land in my inbox with the greeting of either “Lisa” or “friend”.
Naively, I once thought they were interested in me, my writing, my ideas.
Because, I’m a combination of starry eyed optimist and strategic thinker.
I’ve always believed if I follow the guide, if I understand the steps, the result will be whatever I pursue.
It’s just not the case and it’s disheartening to hope that a stranger who I gave my email address is going to guide me, be my advocate.
So, not with bitterness or any bad feelings towards these groups, I unsubscribed.
I’m going into seeking to be a published author sort of hiatus.
I’m gonna let my writing hopes get the underground growth in the roots of my ideas. I’m gonna pray more than voraciously read experts’ steps. I’m not shredding my draft or proposal nor my hopes.
Just letting them breathe on their own for just a bit.
Because it’s not rejection that I fear as much as before, it’s the striving to be noticed, to see results of my effort, to stand in Target beaming with my book in my hand in a selfie for Instagram.
Yeah, that’s why I’m letting it rest.
I’ve thrown the dice of my idea towards a few agents and publishers.
For now, I’m loving smaller ideas. Being influential in the lives of others albeit in obscurity in terms of what some of these now unsubscribed emails promised me.
Because, early this morning I got this message from a friend:
“I hope you understand how people see, respect and admire you.” Ray V.
I replied “Thank you.” thinking this is enough for now, more than enough.
Then I thought of coming Christmas and just like that, an idea, Advent prayer cards for either Christmas decorations, gifts, or for thoughtful meditation.
I sketched a pear, added the number 7 and referred to my Advent tradition book, “Waiting Here for You, An Advent Journey of Hope” by Louie Giglio. I saw that Day 7 asks us to consider the value of giving rather than receiving.
Found the photo of my granddaughter’s first Christmas and said to myself, these are things of great significance, waiting quietly rather than striving and offering what I can to others in hopes they do the same.
Please comment if you’d be interested in an Advent Set of illustrated cards. I need to know if there’s interest in my idea or just another of my many ideas. Cost will be under $20. If you’d like to view other art, visit here http://lisaannetindal.me
Remember when you refused to say “diet”, instead lifestyle or good choices for my health? Maybe you’ve counted calories, drank smooshed up vegetables in a pretty glass, restricted cream and sugar in your coffee.
All in an effort to be well, to be satisfied with yourself, body and soul.
Yesterday, I gazed at the casserole dish of cheesy baked spaghetti my daughter made. I remembered the day I would’ve gone for thirds, if by myself eat the rest of it.
I let the memory help me, I let it fade into the shadows. I left it there.
I woke up early unnecessarily today. I prayed beside my bed that God would help me keep learning, keep listening, keep strengthening my spiritual health.
I see the word prompt for today is “taste”. Rather than think of passages like kind words being sweeter than honey or tasting and seeing that the goodness of the Lord is good.
I rested for a few minutes, soaking up a passage I never tire of,
The passage about the woman who’d been hemorrhaging for twelve years and had gone broke trying to get well, to find a solution to her blood saturated clothing.
The crowd was thick. She could get close to Jesus without being noticed. She did. She touched the hem of his robe and instantly everything changed. She got well.
Jesus knew it. Knew she was there. Knew she was desperate and called her out from her chosen obscurity, her hope to keep herself secret.
“When the woman realized she couldn’t hide any longer, she came and fell trembling at Jesus’ feet. Before the entire crowd she declared, “I was desperate to touch you, Jesus, for I knew if I could just touch even the fringe of your garment I would be healed.” Luke 8:47 TPT
All eyes and ears were on her then, Jesus didn’t just heal her, He gave her the voice to invite healing for others.
I haven’t thought of it this way until today.
Others see and hear us. See how we’ve changed and keep seeking to be healed.
On Sunday (isn’t Sunday always okay tomorrow I start the diet day?) I considered doing Whole30 again.
The diet that restricts certain foods as a way for you to learn what is specifically not good for you is work. It takes effort, makes you feel like a brave fighter or a competitive something or other.
But, there’s no cheese allowed, no cream in my coffee, no chocolate, no red wine, no bread, no sugar, no peanut butter (!!!). The “no” list is long.
Earlier this week, I embraced a friend in a funeral home. I didn’t expect to hear her words through tears. I just know they surprised me, sweetly and certainly she spoke.
“I’m gonna need you.” she said before I spoke a word. On the way to this visitation I almost decided against I decided I’d offer myself as a person to call.
I’d tell her “If you run out of friends to call or no one’s available, you can always call me.”
You see, we know each other but not dining together or visiting each other’s home sort of friends.
Her greeting me with “I’m gonna need you.” surprised me and then it didn’t.
This thing called blogging, posting what God tells me on Instagram, this sharing of sitting on the sofa sketches at night, this creative thing God so graciously made me to do.
It has an audience of listeners, seekers, “needers” like me.
It’s just me being vulnerably, being honestly me.
My “sermons to self” sometimes become hopeful words for others, I suppose.
I pray this anyway.
So, on this chilly quiet morning, I make myself breakfast. I don’t skip it thinking I’ll eat later. I am intentional with starting the day filled with possibilities and errands well.
I take the English muffin top and toss it. I like the bread, but I just choose the bottom. I add sharp cheddar to the egg white and turkey sausage and let the broiler make it bubbly. I add a dollop of cherry preserves to balance the savory. I place it on the pretty china.
I sit and enjoy it.
Like I told my friend who is grieving and I continue to tell others and myself,
“Take it easy on yourself.”
Offer as much mercy you’ve shown others to yourself.
Cease striving, seek wellness.
Be humble when convicted, but don’t punish yourself, don’t let bitter regret or self-hate simmer.
Continue and believe.
Believe you’re fearfully and wonderfully made and so fully known and loved.
Be well. It is well.
“I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.” Psalm 139:14 ESV
Thank you for sustaining me Lord, for keeping me well, for reminding me of what harms and what helps me, what makes me a beautifuloffering, a vessel to pour out newlife, love and listening. Thank you for showing me gently what limits my abilities, takes me from your Spirit. I am listening. I am learning. Thank you. Because of your mercy, Amen
I designed a notecard from a watercolor. The cover is an abstract landscape with soft coral, blue, earthy green and a touch of thick gold.
My technique has been described as flowing, comforting and sometimes subtle, others vivid, the colors.
I like to say it’s “just giving and taking away”.
Inside the card are three words
“Return to rest.”
Today, the writing prompt is “effort”.
I thought of how grace isn’t effort based, us being the recipient of this gift, but relationship with God often asks us to continue seriously, our seeking and knowing more fully.
Yesterday, I stood outside and opened my palm and prayed.
I asked God to help me sense His Spirit, develop such a closeness to Jesus in me that I hear His gentle voice
That I heed His teaching, am sure of my direction.
That I give and take away in the same way that He does. In this effort, not a hopeful change; but in this serious attempt I will better know my Savior.
I will better know what to pursue and what to let fade away.
May my greatest effort not be a blank canvas that invites color, words spoken or on a page.
May my most important effort be to know my God better and in this way
Know peace. Know rest.
Return to rest.
“Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” Psalms 91:1 NLT
In my career days of meeting with those bereaved by suicide, these were my words, “Take it easy on yourself.”
Same with women who acknowledged mistakes and were trying to move past them, without their pasts causing shame.
Years later, I’m still saying to others and mostly to myself, “Be kind to yourself.”
This morning my mind goes back to the ugly work of shame.
Shame, when you feel unworthy, humiliated, powerless is an internal emotion tied to a circumstance or behavior.
Strangely, it’s a feeling we decide on, either because we have the sense we shouldn’t feel a certain way or we’ve felt that way for what we decide has been too long.
I thought of a feeling, a sadness I was convinced I shouldn’t have and I told myself embrace it, acknowledge its understandable place in your life now and most of all,
Understand that acknowledgement brings healing.
Talking to God about it and at least one other listening friend is freeing.
Denying sadness, fear or hurt because we convince ourselves we shouldn’t feel them only adds injury to the loosely bandaged wound.
Pretending stunts healing, numbs the work and wonder of God’s purpose in our acceptance of the circumstances we wish were not ours.
The hard things we deny being still hard only harden us.
Don’t be afraid to be honest with God. He knows anyway.
Refuse to be ashamed of your feelings.
Last week, I communicated with a stranger about anxiety and depression. It helped me to offer help to her. It helped me to hear the familiar words, “I usually just keep this to myself.”
Nothing shall hurt you. That’s a big, hard to fathom promise. It follows the reminder of the power within us, prayer and connecting with God’s spirit in us, even as Jesus saw Satan fall from heaven.
This morning, I got a text from someone I only know by phone, asking about counseling for anxiety and depression. I gave her a list of people I know and added “I understand and my weapons are patience with myself and prayer and more prayer and more prayer.”
Because, if we get tangled up in why am I depressed or anxious we’re only piling on more anxiety and depression.
When we pour it all out in prayer, the scary, sad or lonely question, we invite the power of God in.
We get better this way or we seek counseling and possible medication.
Either way, we grow when we know ourselves, can see it coming for good reason or out of nowhere. We employ our faith, we add to it as needed.
I found this verse by what I thought was accident this morning. No accident though, there are no coincidences or lucky discoveries with God.
“He knows all about this.” is another phrase, a tool against anxiety or depression that I employ.
Continue and believe.
Be kind to yourself, unashamed.
“Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” Romans 5:3-5 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 