Author: Lisa Anne Tindal

Beyond Comprehension

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, memoir, Redemption, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

In the midst of an unexpected prayer. One not timely or ritual.

I realized as I spoke my thoughts,

a prayer.

Faith is not something comprehensible.

Faith is continuing while lacking understanding.

Faith is a commitment to things like love and possibility,

the deep down wish it weren’t so undeniable hope that holds out for what might be.

I want to hold out, love when love is not logical.

Believe when there’s no evidence of payoff for my belief.

I want my faith to be my noticeable default.

Learning as I Go

Abuse Survivor, Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, Forgiveness, freedom, memoir, mercy, Redemption, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I’ve been productive. I am into Pinterest again and if I was successful, my readers can “pin” my pics if they so desire. I am out with the Executive LinkedIn and in with the new season…artist, writer, leap of faith taker!

I attended a writer’s conference yesterday and found it super beneficial. I highly recommend them, Serious Writers Academy. It was small, there was conversation, there was no competition or need to be farther along or better than. The facilitators were outspoken, funny and expert. There were important take aways for me. 

Engaging with others who need to believe in redemption, not need or even want to know me… is what I believe is God’s plan for me and my story. So, I’ll be making myself engaging and relatable. 

I have a relevant story someone may be searching for. 

Today, I heard the song by Casting Crowns, “Only Jesus”. The lyrics that proclaim I don’t want to leave a legacy, don’t want people to remember me…only Jesus. I’m glad Jesus knows most proclamations of such are pretty tough for us. So tough for me I told Him so, said I don’t really know how that’s supposed to be for me. I have no idea how to do what I do for you.

I continued on, decided to just do what I can today. So, committed I have been this afternoon. Readers can pin my pics, someone may connect with me on LinkedIn. I corrected Mailchimp just in time for next week’s newsletter, the first in the “Redemption Series”. 

It’ll begin this way… 

I ran just as far as I could, moved away from him and had big plans. He found me and well, I knew I’d never try running again. 

Don’t worry, it’s only the intro that’s about me. I’m fascinated with Hagar and how she came to be with Sarah and then ran away once, thrown away the second. She was found by God, the God who saw her. 

The preacher, this morning taught us through David and Psalm 61. Taught of how we are much like David, how resting is trusting and he added,

“We are all learning as we go.”

I paused at the recollection of yesterday. I had decided the very same thing. I am learning about writing. I am learning about the need to branch out, hold hands with others, how my story in a way depends on them. How they might unbeknownst to me, be depending on me as I depend on HIM. 

Although I am a victim, I am no expert on trauma recovery. I know the lingo, I understand the flight or fight. I know how triggers creep in. I know how damaging before can be to now. I understand the pull of hanging on to harsh resentment, fear, and unforgiveness. 

I also know mercy and though I don’t fully understand it. I know it is irrevocable, the offer I accepted to believe in the life of Jesus and in His death redeeming all my damage and the damage done to me. 

I know mercy more every day. Will know even more tomorrow. 

I have a few hundred followers, some know me as a believer. Others might only wonder, might see the hints I give. 

I don’t understand how to live for “only Jesus”. I don’t suppose it is meant for me to work that in a fully understood plan. I suppose it is meant for me to invite as many others as I can close enough to read my story and to understand mercy as the balm for their trauma.

A mercy that doesn’t require perfection, a mercy that will never say no. 

Subscribe to hear more of this “Redemption Story” Email me if you have comments, I’d love to hear your redemption story. 

Continue and Believe

Save

Know What?

Uncategorized

I woke up and asked myself a hard question.

Is being known for my writing more important than God? Has writing become my shiny thing, my idol?

Jesus knew people. Knew their intent, their hearts, their broken paths towards whatever was important to them.

I smile when I imagine Him teaching, redirecting those around Him, in His own way saying, “Hey, you know what?”

My friend, Judy tells a story about her grandson. As a toddler, he prefaced every sentence with “You know what?” I think he may be in college now and I’m thinking this young man is surely wise.

We learn as we go.

What I’m learning in these days of trying to continue and believe are small, tiny hard lessons. Naturally, they feel enormous to me. But, they are teeny tiny when I consider all the good God has made possible for me.

The widow had two coins. I imagine her approaching Jesus through the rich and condescending, more successful donors. She gave her all to Jesus, unphased by them. Jesus gladly accepted her all and she wasn’t concerned with anything other than her significance in Him. There’s a lesson here; bypass the critics, bypass the false encouragers. Go straight with your gift to Jesus and place it in the palm of His hand. Repeat as you are able. Give from what He gives you. Little is much in the eyes and hands of our Father!

“While Jesus was in the Temple, he watched the rich people dropping their gifts in the collection box. Then a poor widow came by and dropped in two small coins. “I tell you the truth,” Jesus said, “this poor widow has given more than all the rest of them. For they have given a tiny part of their surplus, but she, poor as she is, has given everything she has.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭21:1-4‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Jesus knew I needed to be reminded today that what I have to offer might be met by scoffing, even laughter in the eyes of others more lofty, farther along than I.

I’m taking some things off my plate today. I’m making every effort to make my gift of writing small again.

Thank you for the redirection, God. When I give to others seeking affirmation or notice, I may be rejected. My contribution may be seen as too small, my presence may be unwelcome. Thank you for your words which lead to me making sense of mine. Thank you for the courage to keep giving it all, my small gifts, my very few coins. Because of mercy, Amen

Questions and Bullets

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My Bible flipped to the place where the verse I call “life” resides.

I’m afraid I’m guilty of pulling out content that fits whatever fits my mind’s contextual angst.

I believe God knows my ways.

Today I focused on mercy and grace, the verse that comes right after a chastising people who fled in their unwillingness to believe what God gave to be their salvation.

I made two lists with bullets and questions this morning and it started, that pressure creeping up heavy, fire in my chest.

I’m in a pivotal time.

I could continue and believe and be quietly confident or I could tuck tail and run, falling apart and making a scene.

Because there are some things I’m uncertain of, panic I internalize.

I glanced just now towards the blue feather I saved in the middle.

A verse underlined with a bracket on the edge…the heading, “A Rebellious People”.

“And now, go, write it before them on a tablet and inscribe it in a book, that it may be for the time to come as a witness forever.”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30:8‬ ‭ESV‬‬

The thought of it jumped off the page, the word rebellion.

I wondered if God’s words through Isaiah about stubborn people who were unwilling to hear God’s instruction

Were God’s words to me this morning.

Is it rebellious of me not to believe? Am I stubborn and panicked when the timing is not my way? Have I forgotten how he led them to safety and goodness.

Have I forgotten how He has led and kept me?

Don’t I remember the times before?

Is God saying, you are meant for keeping records of all this and of before?

That for someone now and for many others to come, it will be a witness of me through your struggles and your surrender?

Your remembering I am gracious and waiting to show mercy is a remembrance worth sharing through words, don’t you see it, Lisa?

Question marks are still there, next to tasks and challenges to consider.

I’m leaving them now to go church and worship. Be surprised again by what God is going to tell me.

I’ll leave the anxious list for now, the bulleted questions.

They’ll be waiting for later or tomorrow and I’ll know more clearly the way, I know.

“He will surely be gracious to you at the sound of your cry. As soon as he hears it, he answers you. And though the Lord give you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, yet your Teacher will not hide himself anymore, but your eyes shall see your Teacher. And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it,” when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left.”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30:19-21‬ ‭ESV

Funny, sort of.

bravery, courage, daughters, doubt, family, fear, freedom, happy, hope, Motherhood, Stillness, Vulnerability, waiting, writing

She found the recipe.

“Grandma Bette’s Pound Cake” and I shared the preparations on Instagram, adding I’ve been sentimental of late.

Someone asked what that means. I said it’s just another way to say lately.

I said I love words and she said okay.

She is my daughter and she’s a better cook than me.

Better at a whole lot of things.

I don’t know what’s next for me.

I wrote today, bought art supplies and redecorated some rooms.

The cake is in the oven.

The sun is almost gone.

I worried earlier about how I’m gonna make it without my job.

Then realized I have days like today to figure it out.

Finally, perhaps live in a way that looks like “my happy way of life”.

Possibly.

Yes, possibly.

Wow.

How Much We Need

Abuse Survivor, Angels, Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, daughters, Faith, family, grace, happy, hope, memoir, mercy, painting, Peace, rest, Teaching, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

“ …there is no God like you in all of heaven above or on the earth below.”

‭‭1 Kings‬ ‭8:23‬ ‭NLT‬‬

I would stand close by and wait, watch and contribute as I was told.

My mama, in her kitchen, I watched as she prepped the meat for the main meal to add a pound cake for later.

In the intervals of ingredients, she rarely gave a measure.

She’d answer with “that’s enough” or “a little more”.

Rarely did she let me add too much. She knew that wound spoil it all. The flour would be mixed with the sugar. It would be impossible to separate the two.

We would have to start over.

In all my years of helping bake cake, that was never the case.

The measure of the two ingredients was always enough to take the next step, to add in the eggs one at a time and the butter.

The cake came out right. Consistently moist with the sweet thick light brown crust.

This morning I made a list of three things I’d like to believe without interruption, three things that would never go away, be not enough.

“You were running the race so well. Who has held you back from following the truth?”

‭‭Galatians‬ ‭5:7‬ ‭NLT‬‬

  1. Self-control
  2. Belief in possibility
  3. Assurance of God’s love

Someone may be reading this and asking how is it that she doesn’t know these things?

I sat just now and countered each need with truth. Because see, in this world we live in the stuff that gets mixed in gets us mixed up.

Self-control is my decision. Every decision begins with a thought. God’s spirit will be my guide.

“Instead, let the Spirit renew your thoughts and attitudes.”

‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭4:23‬ ‭NLT

All things are possible. This truth is for me. It is God’s desire that I allow my heart, not my mind, to lead.

“Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you your heart’s desires.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭37:4‬ ‭NLT‬‬

God’s love is immeasurable. It is unwavering.

“No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:39‬ ‭NLT‬‬

I told someone yesterday I’ve been dreaming about my mama. I told her I think it’s because my daughter’s about to have a baby. She smiled and added she thinks that’s so sweet. I told her she’d understand one day, for her I hope it’s not soon.

Longing is immeasurable. Memories are a beautiful thing. God made me to remember us in the kitchen and her famous pound cake.

And he led me to consider the comfort of having enough.

Not too much.

He led me as if my mama and He had been in intimate conversation and they both decided.

Look now, she’s about to give in. She’s about to be pitiful again. She’s about to let doubt ruin the batter, she’s leaning closely towards throwing out the good ingredients and deciding she might never bake a good cake, create a story or a painting again!

Can I tell you one thing for sure?

He knows. He knows our tendencies and stands close by saying, let’s don’t go that way again.

I’m rising now from my morning spot on a day I am calling “sick” and I will get busy with the good things God has started in me and then I’ll go and try my best to get the ingredients for my mama’s unwritten recipe.

I have a cake to bake!

Thank you Jesus and mama, for teaching me.

Continue and believe.

I’m afraid I never follow the five minute rule. Still, I appreciate the prompt, so I’m linking up with others prompted by the word “measure”.

Measure

Wounded and Believing

Abuse Survivor, Art, bravery, contentment, courage, Faith, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, hope, memoir, mercy, painting, Redemption, Salvation, surrender, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

Thank you, Jesus

There’s a sliver of a wound on the inside of my index finger.

Rather than take the clear path only a few steps away I stepped towards the corner.

Took the risky way, the rebellious path.

Awaiting the New

The asparagus fern from last summer had been put away, covered in pine straw, protected.

From a distance, I saw vibrant green peeking through.

I am impatient for the new season.

So, I squeezed up next to the porch and gingerly pushed about the branches of not yet blooming roses.

Then left the fern, after all, it may be too early, we’ve not yet had the “Easter snap”.

I looked down and saw the stream of deep dark red and felt the sting of the injury from the thorn that caused me to be cornered.

I paused to dab my finger against my shirt, only temporarily stopping the flow.

I continued on my mission, needing to get my pansies into the dirt.

Rain was forecasted, I needed them ready and waiting for the pour down from heaven.

Beautiful Belief

The blood continued to flow from the place the thorn broke the skin, now all mottled with black soil.

It was the dirt after all that stopped the bleeding. Dirt crammed beneath my nails and clogging up the gash of my finger’s wound.

I thought of Jesus.

Thought of how so often I am hesitant to speak His name in public. Thought of expressions like

Less Lisa, More Jesus

Thought of the power of the sound of His name and how I keep it to myself as if the magnitude of His name might upset our rooms.

Sometimes I only hint at the reality of Jesus.

Deciding others will find out on their own.

As if accidentally maybe perhaps or hope so

Someone will just know that we know Him and maybe ask if it is so and hey, tell me why I should know the one you know…

(Sermon to self here. Please just know.)

I thought of the thorns they placed on His head in a sarcastic cynical crown.

I thought of how eventually his blood became mixed in with his sweat, the grime of his sacrifice, the mixture of it all.

Love and death.

For me.

For us all.

I thought last night about this love I am not required to earn.

Thought about Jesus fulfilling God’s purpose, Jesus obeying the Father, a sinless obedient Son.

I am thinking now of the miracle of me, the miracles I have seen, the ones I’ve yet to see.

The ones that I will never know.

That are yours! Not mine to see.

Way too many to comprehend.

Jesus let Thomas put his hand in the place where the spear cut open His side. Told him he was blessed because he believed.

Added how significant it is not to see and yet, believe.

The measures Jesus took and takes to get us to believe are simply too much to me!

Too much to fathom why sometimes I don’t believe.

And yet, like Thomas.

He is still there for me.

Still telling me,

Peace be with you. John 20:26  Believe.

The Book of John ends with a beautiful thought, the truth of the ever astounding and amazing love of Jesus.

“Now there are also many other things that Jesus did. Were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.”

‭‭John‬ ‭21:25‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I understand. Yesterday, I thought of all my journals, all my haphazard prayers, intentional supplications, and all the countless recoveries and redemptive interventions Jesus has brought to my life.

I believe in Jesus, not because I’m educated in this way.

I believe because of all He has shown me because of my believing.

Like Thomas and the others, I believe because he gave me chance after chance to see.

The little slice of the wound from the thorn is still open today. Soon, it will be closed over, no sting or tinged color of pale red. Soon, the insignificant wound will be healed.

I’m thankful for the sharp thorn, the red flow that lingered.

To be reminded of believing.

To be less attentive to my wounds and more open to you.

Linking up with Mary Geisen and others at Tell His Story:

The Walk to the Cross

Me Before

Abuse Survivor, confidence, contentment, courage, family, hope, memoir, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

There was no inkling of me then.

At least not to anyone other than my Heavenly Father.

Who, if you believe in things like fearfully and wonderfully made and a purpose and plan.

God already knew of me before any other knowing was possible.

God knew I’d be different than most, that I’d love words and their expression and that sometimes others might not know what to make of me and so they might describe me jokingly.

It’s odd to be so quiet and at the same time feel so very different, so different that your difference doesn’t go unnoticed.

Sometimes you’re awkwardly called out.

The bane of your introversion.

Notice.

A very long time ago, this place where I walk, a trail encircling what is now a subdivision, was covered in beach, in sand.

I heard this in a historical account of my town, our community.

I walked this evening.

My steps had intent.

Outrun the mood before the mood takes you over, runs you down, knocks you off your feet.

I was tired. Had too much sugar and not enough sleep.

Walk it out, I told myself before the miserable mood walks all over you.

I had a good pace and then saw in the bramble and brush, a tiny little bloom, a blossom bursting through.

Solitary on the dead leaves, seemingly distant from branch or vine.

The bloom before the berries.

The promise before the fruit.

I continued on, self-talk declaring.

The rest of your life is yet to be seen.

Your bloom is just about to break through the cold decay of your ground.

The ground that bordered the sea before anyone other than God knew what beauty you are meant to see.

That same ground is just about to sprout bright bloom, the flowering, the growth,

the plan for good not bad.

Me before is

Not

Me now.

For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope. In those days when you pray, I will listen. If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me.

‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭29:11-13‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Subject: Prayer

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, grace, hope, memoir, mercy, Peace, Prayer, Stillness, Trust, Vulnerability, writing

I find my phone to stop the alarm then drift for a minute, catch myself before falling into the bliss of a half hour.

It is chilly. I reach for the smooth treasure of indispensable device and question where I laid my glasses. My hand smooths the covers searching and there, good, they are there.

Many mornings I can’t find them, they’ve either been knocked from the table or buried in the covers, haphazardly left wherever, when my eyes grow heavy from straining over bedtime words.

This morning was easy, there they were right beside me waiting.

I said, “Thank you, Lord, for how easy that was.”

Realizing there is more, will be more for which I will say thanks.

Maybe that’s why Paul told the people to pray without ceasing.

Maybe he didn’t expect them to linger without taking a break with their faces to the ground.

Because that is not possible, to stay prayerfully posed all the day through.

Maybe praying without ceasing means just saying thanks for seemingly unimportant and not so life affecting things.

Like finding your glasses without having to crawl quietly on the floor next to your bed with your husband still sleeping hoping you don’t wake him…

To let “thank you, Lord” be as natural in your thoughts in the little things, practice for the big ones that life assures us will come back around.

Gently triggered, prayer is an audible or thoughtful response.

Maybe praying without ceasing isn’t impossible or silly at all.

But, is necessary and natural, a good for you practice like sleeping, breathing, eating, running, working or thinking.

A spontaneous response, rising up from the uninhibited ever expanding wellness of our souls.

Thank you, Lord, for words and thank you for your mercy when I struggle yet again with brevity in my expression through prose.

Thank you big time for making me brave enough to continue.

For thoughts that are informal, even casual or a little comical.

That you help me turn into words.

Thank you for accepting my offering of them to you as prayers.

To continue and believe.

Thank you for everything.

For the subject this morning:

Prayer.

I’m linking up with others who enjoyed the wisdom of Michele Morin at Tell His Story today!

Surprise! God Has Your Best Interest at Heart- Guest Post