Art

Art and Opportunity

Angels, Art, bravery, courage, Faith, grace, praise, rest, Stillness, Teaching, Uncategorized

    The post I’m sharing below was originally sent for consideration to be shared with a large platform of readers. It was my fifth attempt to respond to the opportunity to be chosen.

A week before I got the “no” though, I was selected by two others. The very same day, I thought the shop owner was gonna tell me she didn’t think my pieces were right for her shop anymore. Instead, she wrote a sweet note and said: “give me more”. I’ve set up my Etsy page “Angels and Other” and I rearranged my desk today, added a pretty paperweight and crossed off 5 of the 8 things on my “to do”.  I pray for opportunities, remembering to do only my part and let God do the rest.

Always believe something wonderful is about to happen.

Pretty paperweight wisdom

I know that God is for me. I know that I am known.

As are you.

I remembered sharing what I call a “lisaism” in a recent post, the one I felt so proud of, one that I decided would be a difference maker for my children. “You can be miserable or you can be motivated.”

When I got the “no” email telling me how many others had tried and yet, again my submission was not chosen, I was kinda pitiful. But, not for as long as before. I remembered all of the good that’s been coming my way and I decided to carry on.

I remembered another “lisaism”:

You can be pitiful or you can be powerful. Me

I left work late yesterday, went to a grant presentation and hurried to make boot camp because I know physical health is good for my mental health and I’ve made up my mind in general, to press on like a runner towards whatever prizes God has for me.

(Oh, and there were some edits needed, I understand more clearly why my email said no. Live and learn. 🙂)

We were in the same spot that morning. I, for the grits that remind of my mama and her for coffee. The little café that is known for its breakfast, pimento cheese, casseroles and cheesecake, she was new in town and was waiting for her order. The cashier wished me good morning, and I listened as the new person talked about her shop next door. She and her husband had retired from corporate, he a carpenter and she a lover of junk pieces and art, she had opened a new place and was excited to begin displaying local pieces of art.

The words came, and I surprised myself to announce, “I paint.”  She turned and smiled and said “Well, what types of painting do you do?”  To which I replied, “I’ll show you, I have pictures on my phone.”  This was over a year ago, and I still have my wall in her shop.

Shortly before my cafe’ encounter, I’d begun to pray the Jabez prayer again. I have a little in common with Jabez, always have. I find his story relatable in that not too many people; His mother included felt he’d amount to much or worse yet, he might have a life of pain. But, Jabez started young and prayed for the course of his life to be rerouted.

He prayed and asked God to bless him, to bless him indeed. He prayed his abilities and the places he’d be privy to would be expanded far wider than he could believe.

His request was granted.

“Oh, that you would bless me and expand my territory! Please be with me in all that I do, and keep me from all trouble and pain!” I Chronicles 4:10, NLT

Like Jabez, I’ve been surprised by life and opportunity. I’ve been one held back by family dynamics that caused me as a child to be sure I caused no distress, made no mention of being in need, having needs unmet.

Oh, for the foresight to have prayed the prayer of a child born in pain named Jabez rather than become a young adult who sought conciliation in unhealthy ways and paths that bordered self-destruction.

Still, my road has led me to places scary but protected, my stumbles have met cushions upon my falling, and my failures have not been final. I have now what many call an “Angel Ministry” thanks to my friend Connie from the café. She, one of the many who has provided me opportunities that I might never have been shown had I not decided to ask God to enlarge my borders. I might have longed to simply paint in private.

I may have kept my pieces layered with hymns and expressionless angels to myself, maybe give a few away, leaned others against shelves in my home. Were it not for Connie and my prayers for opportunity; I’d have never used the word “commission” nor discussed prices for pieces of art. I would have never had the confidence to create a page on my blog called “The Art of Quiet Confidence”.

This morning, I happened upon another favorite scripture. It caused me to consider whether David, too may have been changed by the story of Jabez, whether all the opportunities and challenges he approached with the assurance of God were perhaps with a recollection of a boy named Jabez.

For I have surely been blessed indeed. The boundaries and borders have bent my way, led me to consider all the good I never expected to know.

The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance. Psalm 16:6 ESV

Prayerfully waiting and willing to walk in places God decides are mine.

 

 

Linking up with others at Tell His Story.  Jennifer writes about the difference a day can make:  http://jenniferdukeslee.com/whatever-youre-facing-now-give-24-hours-first/

Called “Precious”

Angels, Art, bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, Motherhood, Peace, Prayer, rest, Stillness, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Y’all, I often minimize things or maybe it’s my pattern of not getting too excited about the way my life plays out. It’s not humility, the good kind of staying meek and quiet; it’s truly being joy-filled to the point of oh, my goodness can’t believe I’m seeing this stuff happening in my life.

It’s quiet confidence making itself embraceable, tangible.

And to think,  I’ve only just barely begun to surrender!

 

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“Do not fear, only believe.”  Jesus  

 

You might find it small. I consider it God showing me more clarity every day and that I am loved. Nan Jones found my blog through another blogger. She asked me to write. She first asked me about what is happening in my life now, what are my prayers, what is on my heart. I answered by telling of my prayers for my daughter’s healing and she asked me to write about it.

At first, it was all fluff then I decided to be truthful about fear and believing, the lessons I’ve been learning in my listening.

She’s sharing my words and my art here.  I am so very grateful for yet another person God in his infinite wisdom “enlarged my borders” with, people who I never knew might be my teachers, my guides, my spiritual pointers of the way to walk, to write, to be unafraid.

We’ve never met, yet she says she sees me as “precious” and all I can do is smile and cry just a little to know that I am called precious. Finding God in Quiet Confidence

 

Thank you, Nan! Thank you so!

Art and My Word

Art, bravery, courage, Faith, grace, New Years Day, rest, Stillness, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder

May we all have more of what feeds our soul. Find ourselves in that place that calls us back and we lose track of time.

May we have the love of those who love us and leave us there, alone.

Because they love so well the we we are when we’ve been in that place that causes us to be us, they’ve learned we are better from being there.

Happiest of New Years to all my followers as I’ve decided “still” is my word and my place.

And tonight, at midnight I’ll add some color and I’ll begin or complete some paragraphs.

And then I will pray before sleep.

I want to be doing what I want to be doin’ all year.

Because like greens and black eyed peas, cornbread and pork on tomorrow, I believe and am all in for tradition and I’m so very much anticipating what God will do when I finally get better at being still.

Crazy how exciting stillness can be.

Happy New Year, ya’ll!

May you surely know more clearly our God who loves us so.

Wording and Waiting

Angels, Art, Faith, Peace, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I am strangely becoming more settled.

Countering where I have been with the counterintuitive tilt of my thinking.

I’m sure it’s such a joy to be met by words proclaiming revelation or breakthrough.

Words that invite, oh, let’s watch her now, let’s see if she means it this time.

Then realizing where this morning has me is contradictory in a gradually huge way.

Gradual, a word that feels like ease. Feels like the quiet me.

Accountability matters to women, I read. It’s why we don’t talk about diets, don’t announce our goals, hesitate to bring notice to our habits.

Last year, around this time I decided I’d have a “breakthrough” year. I did and I didn’t.

I didn’t write the manuscript. I did not finish and have barely begun.

I regretted, I panicked, I wanted to hide and I considered all of the let downs.

Myself and others.

I wrote more. Had a chapter published in a book, my name on Amazon. I painted so much more. I read, I noticed God and I was given opportunity. Given not chased after.

I considered new perspectives.

I forgave myself over time.

Asked a friend to hold me accountable, the book and all…all.

A few days ago, I read a verse that most of us know.

I read it differently because of that peace, that change in perspective.

“Be still, and know that I am God! ”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭46:10‬ ‭NLT‬‬

The weight of the words, more easy to know, the meaning slightly shifted either all of a sudden or have been all along.

The hashtag “breakthrough17” I boasted of this year enthused me early on and later led to hectic half-hearted writing and rushing.

Days were hectic, my writing a chore, a demand unmet and self-discipline became self-destruction.

I’ve been praying daily in December, equip me to write, help me to focus and give me words that heal not hinder, provide hope, not harm. Honest prayers.

The verse above I saw before of magnitude and strength, words that made sure I knew just how much God can do.

And I always focused on that and still do,

Still know that He is God.

But, as I sit this morning deciding to accept all I’ve not done thus far, I’m content in what has come already, what God has brought my way in ways of opportunities that have eased me forward.

Not pushed my way through…not at all breakthrough speed or fashion.

But, breaking through like the sunrise this morning, pink ribboned sky now fully shining and making shadows, warm and soft.

Yes, this is God’s way for me to see His plan, for others to see Him through me.

A dear, kind friend told me of visiting someone grieving this Christmas.

It wasn’t necessary or required he check in.

But, he did and she thanked him, adding she knew it wasn’t something he had to do.

His reply has changed my heart a little, has softened my striving, has granted me grace in all I’ve not done and had decided was failure.

“I didn’t stop by. ‘Someone Else stopped by through me.” J.

Oh, the humility of stepping aside while stepping towards what God designs.

His reply me that my work, my art, my words will fail me, will fail to come, will fail to find favor, if they are the measure of me.

Has reminded me to be still.

To be quiet.

To be confident in that quiet, that stillness.

He is God. Greater things are still to come.

Still, perhaps my word, “Still18”.

Handwork

Art, Children, family, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I decided I could and so I began.

All the colors of fine silky floss of embroidery laid across the arm of the sofa.

I’m only two down with five to go.

I’m looping little french knotted threads in bright colors, little knots, ornaments on the tree.

And I vaguely remember the knot technique, the other stitches are abstract, just color, giving idea of light and branch.

And I’m thinking about this idea I had, embroidering our stockings this year.

And thinking ahead to the next, maybe I’ll add more color each year, more little dots depicting ornament.

Then, a thought I loved, not found unnatural at all.

I thought, I hoped, I imagined that one day these stockings might be hung in the home of my daughter, my son and that they’d run their fingers over the textured dots of color and they’d think of me.

Think of my handwork.

The work of my hands.

Us and the Angels

Advent, Angels, Art, Faith, grace, heaven, rest, Serving, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

She arrived before anyone else, at 10 instead of 12, dropped off in the parking lot and then wouldn’t accept our offer to wait inside.

We walked past and past again unloading our cars, setting up the luncheon and Christmas festivities.

She waited, her notepad propped carefully, her arms balanced on the arms of her rolling walker.

She waited, I began to sense her an observer.

“Was she making notes about her observing of us now?” I wondered.

Today is the fifth day of Advent, the focus on the hopeful waiting for Christ and Christmas.

I painted last night, it was a must.

Because the woman who arrived two hours early was left without a ride home and we were together for more hours as she called those who’d promised to be there and then called again to be met by straight to voice mail answers.

We were together, she and I and another person left without a ride.

We were together in the parking lot of the place where the promised person said they’d meet us.

So, she asked about my children and I asked about hers. This led to asking about my life and then, finally led to asking about Jesus and her telling me about heaven.

You see, she said she died once. The doctor said for 17 minutes. She went to heaven; she saw her family and yet, she said she was given the chance to come back and live.

Now, if you know my job and know this event, you may be thinking, I pray not, “Well, that woman’s crazy.”

I pray you don’t think that, say that.

Ever.

Because, here’s where our talk went next.

After reaching a family member late in the afternoon, we moved from one parking lot to the other and were confident she was on the way to meet us.

Her telling me of heaven continued, she told me about the angels.

She said they are beautiful; but, have no wings and that’s because they’re not nearly as far from earth as we’d assume.

They have no wings because they’re only just a little above the ground.

I looked towards her, she’d rarely looked my way, her conversation a retelling, a divine appointment, I am sure.

I sensed her calling, her calling to be with me.

I, with her, not my normal way.

Because I’m guilty of being grouchy at the end of the day and I’m sorry to admit, I’m the first to accept an offer for someone else to stay behind, handle the loose ends like giving rides to stranded people.

But, not yesterday, I decided to be the one who helped this woman.

Help, not the best choice of words, more like simply being with, seeing it to the end, not so much like helping at all.

More divine, my day had been ordered by God I began to see, see even better looking back on.

I’m sure I was beaming when I told her I painted and that my angels have no wings and most often no expression on their faces.

She smiled only slightly like “Yes” and I looked towards the car to our right, “Is this you ride?” I asked and it was, she answered, how did we miss them pulling in?

Her daughter thanked me, her grandson smiled, said “Hey, Nanni” and we unloaded her gifts and helped her from my car.

I walked over and hugged her softly,

“Merry Christmas.” I said.

She paused and finally, she turned and saw me straight on and open, told me she will be praying for me, that she is going to pray for my angel paintings to become as God has planned.

She meant it, I know.

I thanked her.

Then went home, dark by now and changed from Christmas red outfit to paint splattered apron.

I painted a new layer over the frantic looking wings I’d painted on a new piece, thinking I’d try something new; but, certain it was all wrong.

And now I understand.

Understanding what it means to have God mindful of me, of us down here amongst one another, just barely below or maybe even sitting beside the angels.

“When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,

what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?

You have made them a little lower than the angels and crowned them with glory and honor.”

‭‭Psalm‬ ‭8:3-5‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Sufficient Is My Treasure

Art, bravery, Faith, grace, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I’ve become obsessed with an artist who paints vibrant florals. Her colors are thick with brightness and she covers the canvas, letting the leaves drape over the edge.

I’m a follower of hers, have an Instagram fueled yearning to be her.

I find myself fascinated by her skills, the way she markets herself, the gallery in which her art is displayed, I’ve decided is sleek and uptown.

“I need to paint florals.” I told Connie when I stopped by to scan the walls of her shop to see if she had any on display, sizing up what would be my competition.

I’d sold an angel and one of the “Pines” pieces. She handed me the check. I don’t believe I thanked her, how quickly I’d walked away,

Good gracious!

Last night, I told my husband I needed more time to write.

I need more time to paint.

If I’m going to be good, I need to do more and I need more time to do it. I don’t have the time I need to be good.

This morning, I walked by my little corner room. It’s a mess.

I’ve given in to allowing the dogs to share it.

My pretty rugs are all off kilter, edges rolled over, been rolled around on.

The blank canvases are not in order, out of place. The mason jars have muddy water covered brushes and there are at least four pieces unfinished.

I knew not to go through the door, I’d have wanted to stay.

I’d have started with putting things where they should be, clean slates for creating and then I’d have put my apron on and squeezed out plops of color on my palette.

I’d sit back and play, Alison Krauss or Bebo Norman and the dogs in their spots they now share would have begun to breathe soft and easy.

Lost in painting for no reason at all, except that it’s my treasure, this treasure God planted in me.

Time gets lost track of, I’ve no need other than to continue. Whole evenings feel like grace.

I could sell hundreds of paintings and I would still want more if I painted from the place of seeking to be special, to be seen, to be sought after.

There’s a need that’s insatiable, the bottomless pit called notice, the ocean bottom wide and wondering that asks why them, not me, and why not yet for me when so many already have so much more.

But with grace, sufficient is my treasure.

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.” 2 Corinthians‬ ‭4:7‬ ‭NIV‬‬

I bought new canvases, one large and three nice 5 x 7’s. Tomorrow I’ll try my hand at florals, bright pink camellia type blooms with lively thick green leaves and stamens of happy yellow, thick in texture, touchable and bursting through.

We shall see what beauty may come, shall come from a place held by grace.

Writing Side

Art, bravery, Faith, grace, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I’ve not written in days.

I will soon.

I’ll not dishonor my thoughts, my observations

my stories I’ve been observant of

by writing here for the sake of writing

because I’m naive to believe my followers

might wonder where I’ve been.

Still here. Still believing.

Still noticing.

Still true to my thoughts becoming words.

And less worried they might fade away forgotten.

Painted again, finally ‘tho.

A piece I decided to call, “Restful One”.

Time, time is mine and on

my side.

“…and the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit.”

‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭7:8‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Rest and Dusty Places

Art, bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Serving, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Connie texted me “your duck painting sold! You need to paint some roosters!

“Gotcha! See you next week.” I replied.

Went to the little room to finish some “girls” before moving to roosters and decided, not today, I’ll wait. I’ll let these rest for now. I have time next week.

Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while. Jesus

Mark 6:31

The verse before this one tells of how the disciples told Jesus we’ve been working so hard that we haven’t even taken the time eat.

They’d just seen Jesus rejected in the town of his birth, Nazareth.

They were discouraged. Jesus told them let’s move on.

Reminded me of me, my little affirmations to self: “Learn from it and carry on. Turn the page, begin again, you’ve done what you could, do the next thing, take a new road…”

“And he marveled because of their unbelief. And he went about among the villages teaching.”

‭‭Mark‬ ‭6:6‬ ‭ESV‬‬

He told them, you go now, paired them up. You can do this on your own. They had little other than his brief but firm instruction.

“And if any place will not receive you and they will not listen to you, when you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.” So they went out and proclaimed that people should repent.

And they cast out many demons and anointed with oil many who were sick and healed them.”

‭‭Mark‬ ‭6:11-13‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Yesterday, I walked towards my car, exhorting myself over a presentation. The words came to mind easy…”I can do all things through Christ…”

I got in the car, got the navigation set and thought about the “all”.

I knew so clearly then, the meeting might not go well. An easy drive despite construction and fog until I took my exit and I was blind to the spot where the black car’s door was inches from mine.

A split second. I glanced over and the black car kept moving, I barely slowed; yet, we were spared, the stranger I didn’t see and me, we both continued on.

God gave me warning, be careful, be alert, be prepared.

The presentation did not go well. I was not prepared in the way the one questioning demanded and their expectations were quite clearly stated with my deficiencies made known. But, the morning taught me some things. “I understand” I told the questioner.

I understand.

No, you cannot do all things, Lisa.

You can do all of the things that come to you through me.

Some places you go will not receive you well. Some people you meet will not be interested in your testimonies, your stories.

Dust yourself off and decide to try again or not, don’t discount the things you know are not your “all” through me that my Spirit has made clear.

When the disciples reunited with Jesus, they’d accomplished much for Him, but they’d also suffered grief and hardship.

They had to bury John, who’d been beheaded. They were hungry and tired and if the word was in their vocabulary back then, I believe they knew burnout.

Jesus calmly invites them to rest. He sends them out, encourages they go away and recover.

And I believe this was a welcome command. I see them heaving a sigh of gratitude and turning to go and find that quiet place.

But, others followed. Many were coming and going and they all were in great need.

Jesus had compassion on them, called them sheep without a shepherd to guide their way.

The disciples must have wondered, I thought you told us to rest. We found the place to rest, can we rest now?

“And when it grew late, his disciples came to him and said, “This is a desolate place, and the hour is now late. Send them away to go into the surrounding countryside and villages and buy themselves something to eat.”

‭‭Mark‬ ‭6:35-36‬ ‭

Jesus answered, “No, we need to feed them.”

And they were fed, all five thousand of them from a couple of fish and five loaves.

I told my friend about the horrible presentation, about how defeated and tired I felt.

She asked me why I continue. A woman walked from the hallway and around the corner to cook her supper in the kitchen of a home that’s not hers, a shelter.

Yesterday, she’d raked the backyard of our home we call, “Nurture”. She called me over and I thanked her.

I asked how she’s doing. She said “I’m keeping on!” and turned to finish her work.

I know why you continue she said after I’d pointed to the woman walking by the door.

“The greater good, for the greater good.”

she said.

I nodded.

No more need for complaint or question.

Dusted myself off to try again.

I’m writing, prompted by the “invite”, shared in the Five Minute Friday. More than five minutes, clearly. Still, I’m linking up because I consider the invitation open despite my way over the time rule.

http://fiveminutefriday.com/2017/10/12/writing-life-invite/

I’ve discovered Kelly Balarie this morning and some good words on self condemnation and fear. Linking up with others at http://purposefulfaith.com/

Will and Whale

Art, bravery, courage, Faith, Motherhood, Prayer, Serving, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

It wasn’t God’s idea.

His intent was not for us to have the option to be stubborn.

Not his desire that we’d consider a different way other than His.

That we’d have to look back with regret on our fighting against and fleeing the path we stood before contemplating and then either ran towards another way, still miserable but at least not doing the thing we felt was undoable.

What’s your Nineveh?

The thing ahead of you waiting your contribution?

Or at least your willingness to be there with, reluctant acceptance of even?

Or have you fled, or at least on the cusp of running the other way? Hiding from what you’re afraid you can’t do?

“But Jonah rose to flee to Tarshish from the presence of the Lord.”

‭‭Jonah‬ ‭1:3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

The Book of Jonah is spread across just two pages in my Bible, I read again today, adding to my illustration, a semblance of me alone on the other side.

The thing you keep asking why, maybe asking haven’t I done enough or I’m certain if I get close enough you’re gonna close the door anyway God…so,

I’m staying far far away.

I’m hiding from that challenge, I’m not able.

I’m not willing. I’m sorry for being so sorry, but no, I just can’t.

What’s your Nineveh?

Like Jonah, will you cause distress to everyone else in the boat you don’t belong in and get thrown into the turbulent seas of a decided rebellion, thinking it’s simply choice?

Or will you step closer, allow the path to let you in, trust God in his desire to grow you in this place you do not want to go?

I’m going there, going through it and I understand, I believe the reason.

He planted it there. I’ll find the purpose of my part in this path, when I choose to follow in a way without resistance.

The way of God’s persistent pursuit of me.