Closer to Love

bravery, Children, courage, Faith, family, grace, Motherhood, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Stillness, Teaching, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder

I wonder if your first waking thoughts are placed there mid sleeping and waking by God as His way to say,

“Begin again, let’s go!

Follow my lead, follow your leader.

Follow your heart, your soul.”

I woke, thrilled to have slept past 7 and kept my eyes closed for a few minutes.

Did not reach for my phone.

I thought and thought again,

“Stop looking for likes.”

Then wrote it down, hoping it more deeply would sink in.

I’ve just spent almost an hour in between making breakfast and coffee and conversation about new cars with my husband, tracking down which blog post was most “liked”.

It was in 2014 and it was entitled “not knowing”. It was about my children and God and well, being okay with not knowing.

Stats show which day is best, which theme more enticing and I suppose which posts are so good that people click the little star that says “like”.

Actually, I don’t have a whole lot of “likes”. I do have a lots of views and viewers and some commenters who I always thank “for reading my words” and mean it, sincerely.

I was curious, then got weary of discerning my “likers” based on my stats.

What I saw was my life since 2014, I saw God’s guiding, his pulling me from the ditch of doubt, His rescuing me before I fall too far from the pit of pride and pedestal.

So, I’m more settled, less seeking and more set on seeing me as God sees me and

“likes” me.

Prayerful, this morning in my journal about writing for “Daughters of the Deep” and for Lisa Brittain’s “Saturday Shares” and other places my soul feels led and prompted by prayer and the Holy Spirit.

Places and people who I’d never encounter were it not for words and God, women like Nan Jones, women who write and women who don’t write; but, surely are praying. I am worried other making a list, it’s so vast, I’d surely forget one or two or three who make up my “community”.

This morning I read from My Utmost for His Highest and the thoughts are lingering and lined up, as did the other words and verses established for today.

I’m getting closer every day to the me God sees.

Not yet arrived, surely on my way though.

Noticing and embracing words like these, believing waking thoughts as God’s instruction and loving affirmation.

As you journey with God, the only thing He intends to be clear is the way He deals with your soul.

My Utmost for His Highest devotion

Closer to love.

Closer to God and speaking more bravely.

Two times last week, I believe my words came as a surprise to others (and me).

I’m so glad God brought you into my life.

Me, through God

The first time, a crowded restaurant and as a goodbye to our unplanned encounter.

The second, a parking lot after “so happy to run into you” send off.

Both times, I was sure in my saying so and both times, the ones who were with me, their smiles spread wide as the sky and we parted, all of us thinking of God.

So, if you’re reading this,

I’m so glad brought you into my life. So happy He brought us both here. me

Lost, Found and Reunited

Children, courage, Faith, Motherhood, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized

I couldn’t help but think of our reunion when I read the account of Jesus, being found by his parents, thought of our coming reunion after three months in other countries.

I was nervous and excited and relieved; ironically though I’d finally settled into the separation, accepted that my children will be in places that I am not.

Isn’t it just that simple? Oceans apart or fifteen minutes away, a mother’s heart is softened, settled and satisfied the moment she sees her child, is reunited, is simply up close, next to them, their bodies in the same room.

I write monthly for our paper’s supplement in a small rural community. This month, thinking post-Christmas, I thought of Jesus as a boy, getting separated from his parents and then being found again, reunited and relieved.

My heart is lighter, my breathing easier when I turn to see them, my son or my daughter on the threshold of my front door.

Christmas night I was reminded, given gifts unexpected, a beaded cross to hold in my hands, keep ever close and a gift she found and noticed I wanted. She wrapped it splendidly with a ribbon clinched at its knot with a sweet ornament…her little face in the center, I must’ve misplaced it she said. “I found it, thought you’d want it back.”

And our faith’s the same. We welcome its return, we fling wide the door to have it come back in and then stay longer this time. So, I wrote about Jesus being found in the temple, absorbing all he could of His Father and how it made sense he’d wandered away, made perfect sense he was where he needed to be, where we need to be more often.

Here’s my fancy head shot that makes me look all appropriate and so not me; but, I’m grateful to be asked to write.

Going on three years now, the “Faith Column”.

Wisdom, Stature, and Favor

Just within the past month, I have had the opportunity to see the joy on the faces of parents of newborns. A young woman who grew up with my daughter and a neighbor of my daughter, both parents of newborn boys. I said to my daughter something similar each time I saw the infants; “Isn’t God amazing?” Amazing is an understatement, not quite the best description maybe when we think of life being formed in a mother’s womb and fashioned only through the biological makeup and intricacies created by our sovereign God. A child born into a family, evidence of God’s favor.

You may have spent some time in the Book of Luke last month. I believe God intends that we uniquely experience his word each time we read. This year, I read the Christmas story and pondered the time in between the birth of Jesus being foretold to the holy night of his birth.

My interest was piqued over the time in between; I longed to know more of Mary, more of Joseph. Wished it possible to understand how they endured the wait with hope and trust.

The second chapter in the book of Luke moves from the birth of Jesus to his preteen years. We read that Jesus grew in stature and wisdom in verse 40, And the child grew and became strong; he was full of wisdom, and the grace of God was on him. Isn’t that true of each of our children, each of us, the grace of God, a promise has been and is upon them?

Through Luke’s recording of the young Jesus, we don’t get the chance to know of his toddler years, whether he slept through the night, of the days he began to play, how his speech developed or how he matured from boy to young man. Again, these details are left for us to consider.

In verse 41, we read of the traditional trip to Jerusalem taken by Joseph and Mary. The account of Jesus getting separated from them always reminds me of times my children “hid” from me in the racks of garments in a shop or the times one of them did wander away, I’d turned, and they’d “disappeared.”

A parent’s worse fear combined with most graphically imagined outcome followed by finding them and their sweet face smiling upwards, they were just fine.

Joseph and Mary were worried, panicked, astonished over where they found Jesus after a whole three days.

Can you imagine their horror and then their joy?

Like any parent, they questioned why he would put them through such distress. But, Jesus, the twelve-year-old explains to them they should not have been surprised at all, for they of all people should know His calling to be where His Father would have him be.

When his parents saw him, they were astonished. His mother said to him, “Son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you.”

49 “Why were you searching for me?” he asked. “Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?”[a] 50 But they did not understand what he was saying to them.

Their frustration must have turned to understanding.

I’m thinking of the two babies I’ve only just seen, the infant expected in the Spring, my niece’s first, and the hope for grandchildren one day.

I’m thinking of my children as well. Of the times uncertain of their welfare, their whereabouts; but, being assured once I saw them, they had been with God, God with them.

There was no reason for me to fear.

As we move into the new year, may we meditate more on the word of God. Delve in more profoundly and consider the relevance of this Holy book.

May we all increase in wisdom and stature and favor with God and man, just as Luke described the growing up of Jesus us the final verse of Chapter Two. Even Jesus knew the importance of learning more about His Father.

Undoubtedly, we should as well.

Get lost, then found and be reunited with the Father.

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee who has had a trying Christmas interrupted by illness, but continues to keep us all focused and faithful.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/christmas-didnt-turn-like-expected-dispatch-hospital-waiting-room/

The Gift

Children, family, Unity, wonder

He came to us with much speculation, much unrest, not an exaggeration to say strife.

A decision that seemed right because it all just fell into place. My friend found him, had not listed him as available and she called.

I’m quick to say yes when things happen this way. Some say meant to be and I say providence.

Because, this dog, my son’s dog, a rescue we now know had been hit by a car at some point which left him with a slight tilt of the hip and a “wonky” walk, this dog is pretty brilliant and he loves us.

We love him back.

We all do now, miracle of miracles. Impossible not to love him, not to accept freely his invitation.

Like a baby, we only vaguely remember why the screen porch has yet to get a new door and if you visit you’ll see a clever armrest I designed to disguise the chunk gone from chewing.

We don’t remember the early, early morning trainings except for the sake of knowing they were what he needed.

“Good boy” he is and this morning this boy is up on Christmas morning and like a child, he’s pondering the gifts under the tree and waiting as if he knows, it’s not yet time, the others will be here tonight.

And now I must go and I must find a gift, because I’m not a natural at being a dog’s grandma…but, it appears Santa forgot to leave a gift under the tree.

Merry Christmas from our home and this sleepy-eyed boy, “Colton Dixon, Colt 45, Good Boy”.

A crazy and questionable choice for a Christmas gift for a son who’d be leaving for college, a dog who understands, listens and waits. Oh, is he good at waiting!

Even better at welcoming, he’s giddy and goofy and well, a little boy on Christmas morning full of energy and awkward, lanky, exuberant love for this family that he now calls his.

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.

Different Days

Children, courage, Faith, family, grace, Motherhood, Uncategorized, Unity, wonder

We held a “gender reveal” something my Aunt Boo said no one did before and yet, she said “Come on!” and we all got together in the place of our “get togethers”.

A white tree, sweetly decorated, we counted down from 10 and the lights were plugged in, sparkling pink.

“It’s a girl!”

The addition of a baby, hope opening its arms wide, wide, wider.

We gathered all the family and friends. Festive lights, food, little messages all around. The cousin number would be increasing.

A baby changes the shape of a room.

My brother about to be grandpa, I told him so, your life is about to change forever.

And I couldn’t say because I knew; but, I could because I saw.

My older brother, I met his grandson, finally.

Sweet baby boy, pouting at first then was content as I held him; I had the hip sway down pat; my body surely imprinted from the days my children were tiny.

Little bright eyed baby in my arms, observing a room filled with strangers to him and his grandpa comes up next to us.

He speaks. The baby smiles and slightly jumps with excitement.

“Oh, he loves you.” I say and my brother says, “oh, yeah me and him, we’re tight.”

Yes.

A baby changes everything.

Everyone.

Writing prompt: “Different”

Recollecting Providence

bravery, Children, courage, Faith, grace, mercy, Redemption, Serving, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

A Christmas card from one I thought might not pull through, one I was worried maybe I’d done all and it had not been enough.

One who I thought my help may have run dry, she says

“Thank you for believing in me.”

I reply, “We are all in need of grace.”

A gift of a doll from my daughter. I wanted one being tossed from a float in a Christmas parade on that Sunday afternoon.

A child caught and kept one, gave it to his 1st grade teacher.

The teacher told him her mama wanted one.

He said, “I know, that’s why I brought it.”

Some call this serendipity.

I consider it providence.

Providence,

protective care of God or protective care of God or of nature as a spiritual of nature as a spiritual

I’m embroidering tiny little knots of floss in bright colors onto stockings for Christmas.

I’m struggling to thread the needle and I’m finding myself much like my grandmother wetting the thread to push through the eye of the needle, squinting and

Holding my mouth just so.

But, the most special thing is a little girl who told my daughter that Santa Claus is Jesus’ helper, he helps Jesus with the gifts.

And I’ve been thinking about it since I heard this, how I wish I’d thought to say the same.

But, deciding it’s quite okay to believe now, now and maybe later with grandbabies to help them to believe in Santa and in Jesus

and in helping.

Mostly in helping without ceasing.

In being someone another might know they had not stopped believing, believing

in.

December

Children, courage, family, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Because, I heard a story about my daddy

playing steel guitar from someone I did not expect to hear so kind a memory.

And because I’ve been letting the lyrics to this song float real easy about my mind and heart somehow.

Make it Through December

Somehow know how my daddy might have felt when he heard it too.

Because my daddy loved Merle like I love Alison.

Cause we all have our reasons and seasons that we might plan on having things be warmer and better…

And oh, it’s gonna be cold enough for coat in Carolina…

So, yeah December

We love ‘ya.

We know we’ll make it through.

Be Near

bravery, Children, family, grace, heaven, rest, Trust, Unity, Vulnerability

I googled my daddy’s name to be sure of the number.

Today he would have been 75 and it occurred to me to remember the traits of his I hold near.

Quiet
Unambitious
Introspective
Handsome
Sharp dressed
Hair in place
Thoughtful
Musician
Gardener
Introvert

Then I thought of gentleness and the most often gentleness of my daddy.

The times he’d not let the demons and worry and work draw him towards drink.

These are the traits I hold near and I pray through genetics, heredity, and stories I have passed them on well.

Today is December 1 and I’ve opened the stiff leather binding to new pages of a new journal.

May December be about Jesus, I pray and may His gentleness in me be evident to all.

May the Lord be near me and be near.

Love your daddies, friends if you have them. Talk to them about life and love and lessons. Store up those treasures you will surely hold near.

Yay!!!! Did not exceed 5 minutes this time! Linking up with other writers here for Five Minute Friday! What a good start to December this feels like. 🙂

http://fiveminutefriday.com/amp/

Flying Parallel

bravery, Children, courage, Faith, family, praise, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

This post popped up as a memory from three years ago. So many things have changed, been accomplished in the lives of my children as I sit by simply as a flight consultant, an occasional guide, a woman learning to fly to new heights of my own.

What happened yesterday, I consider spectacular.

Spectacular in a way I almost think I shouldn’t tell a soul.

What happened yesterday was God reading the stories I was writing and somehow coming in and being the Sovereign editor.

A day that was typical, work issues, family thoughts, waiting and wondering and hoping, writing “trust” in ink again on my palm.

I couldn’t for the life of me figure out the whole time conversion of when my son’s plane was to land. I decided to focus on work, to walk to the post office, to pick up lunch.

I walked towards our front door and opened it, looking down.

“Oh.” I stopped.

“Oh.”

I touched the tummy of the bird fallen on our brick. It moved slightly, one leg twitching as if somehow it had folded into itself and couldn’t get unfolded.

“Does that happen?”, I wondered or is it worse than just getting tangled on landing?

Someone saw me, I told them I didn’t know what happened or why the bird had fallen, unable to fly now.

She stood at a distance watching my worry over the bird, walked towards her car and added hopes, that maybe it will be okay.

I cupped the bird in my hand. It resisted at first and then moved its body in a cautious hop to a wobbly standing position.

I’ve never seen such beauty up close, the wings in its back caught the afternoon sun and caused a golden sheen. Its little eye was still and focused forward, almost seemed resigned in some way.

As much as I love birds, I had never held one, never touched its spindly claws, never caressed a creature so supple, so sublime.

I held the bird in my hand, my day interrupted by its falling.

Back on its little feet; but, afraid to move, I waited.

I’ll go, I decided. I’ll walk to get the mail, pick up my salad and I’ll see when I get back if the sparrow has flown or fallen back down.

My phone in my hand waiting to hear he’d landed, I walked and decided already, this bird falling to the ground and my noticing has a purpose.

I decided, a foreboding or foretelling of either hope or hardship.

Still, I accepted that I’d return and I’d accept what I found.

Which was the bird on my porch, still standing, slightly moving, maybe had waited for me to see, I believe this could be.

Water, I thought. I’ll get a little water in a jar lid and I’ll set it down in front of its feet.

But not interested, it shuffled just a little towards the steps and then flew, low at first and then up and away.

“Oh.”

Later, I decided to leave work early. I had yet to hear that my son’s plane had landed in another country, a place I can’t get to.

It was too much for me to figure out if I was wrong about the time or if, oh, I don’t know what if.

I had three stops to get the contents of the mission project bags. Each Christmas, our church contributes to bags that are dispersed to prisoners. I needed 100 more pre-stamped envelopes. I had planned to get those tomorrow or Friday since I go to the post office anyway.

Instead, I told myself to finish, to at least have all of my supplies, then the job of putting them together will be all that’s needed.

The clerk asked what I needed and then asked me to count behind him.

“See if you get 30,” he said.

I reached for the stack, the envelopes usually stamped with our flag and “Forever” underneath.

I smiled and counted along with him.

I thought to tell him about the bird and how I was waiting to hear that the plane had landed.

Instead, I kept it close.

I smiled.

“Oh.”

Got into my car and kept moving on. I’ll get the tree, I’ll make wreaths for the front windows. Christmas is my favorite, this will help.

Then, the message came. “Just landed, the flight was longer than I thought.”

“Oh!”

I’m hesitant to share this story I consider spectacular.

I guess if I had a book to ask it be included it would be the one that talks about when God winks or it might be good for Reader’s Digest or at the very least, I decided it must be recorded here.

I started my morning yesterday very afraid inside, afraid of what might happen or not, a recurring theme in my story.

I thought of asking for prayer; instead kept it inside and remembered I’d already cried and cried quietly to Jesus in prayer.

Sometimes it happens this way, the way He shows us He knows in spectacular ways.

God is everywhere, don’t forget to notice. me

We’re worth more than we know to Him.

Worth more than the sparrow and to me, He knows that’s a whole lot because I sure do love the sparrows, the bluebird, the cardinals and the dove.

“What is the price of two sparrows—one copper coin? But not a single sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it. And the very hairs on your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows.”

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭10:29-31‬ ‭NLT‬‬

A Blessing Simply

Children, courage, Faith, family, grace, marriage, mercy, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

Yesterday began with creamy oatmeal, warm in my lap and just a touch of the crunch of peanut butter.

I believe I shall have this today as well.

Made a pot of soup later and had a whole house quiet til afternoon.

“It’s a blessing,” he said, as I questioned whether I’d need a jacket to walk the dog.

The temperature just right and he’d come in from the country place where his parents lived before they died.

I ventured out and walked all the way around. We met three little girls who were new to the neighborhood and bouncy with their bubbliness “a dog!” I heard one say.

So, I eased him over and had him sit while I guided their tiny hands, one at a time to pet him. They smiled big dimpled smiles, one with chocolate on her cheek and their hair was all tousled and let be.

We walked on and I unleashed him on the trail, he started into a little trot and I walked slightly ahead then called him to come back.

As we turned back to the main road, I saw them there, their backs bent and their faces close the ground. The rhythm of their work so simple their eyes never rose to meet us.

An empty lot, a new home unoccupied and the lawn already laid down in pieces, someone had smoothed the pine straw in a sort of kidney-shaped border amongst the pines.

A few more feet we walked and I saw the determined face of the wife, not the husband. Her long gray hair fell over her face, her hand smoothing it behind her ear, I thought her eyes will see us; but, she carried on with her picking up and dropping into a bucket.

Not a sound, not a word, no invitation for how are you or what a pretty day, obliging conversation.

I thought of their tranquility as I walked on, thought of their solitude and silence, together.

The task at their hands wasn’t their responsibility, but a choice.

As if all the pine cones had been picked up from their yard already, just around the corner and they sought and found another place to do the work of their hands, the work of a simple life.

We came to the place where the three daughters now live and seeing us from far off, the oldest must have planned it just right as they skipped towards the end of their driveway to see the dog again.

Fascinated by his softness, their voices soft and admiring, I allowed them a little more time to be little, captivated by their sweet faces and the joy of their conversation.

We headed back up the hill, the big Lab relaxed into a saunter and I thought wow, he was right, it’s a blessing, this day.

This simple day.

The evening came and I thought of them again, the couple uninterested in us, singing the song of solitude, of silence, a simple life.

Then lyrics found their way in and the thought of this season, a simple season of love and grace understood more clearly, held much closer to an embrace. I thought of Alison Krauss and went searching because I remembered her wanting something simple like that.

Simple Love

A love song seemed fitting, more than enough, so I sang it.

Yesterday was simple, in its solitude. I believe today I shall find it too, grace, mercy, peace, and love. Find it unexpectedly when not looking or not so a surprise in my seeking.

Because yesterday had room to breathe, it was made of open spaces and things just fell into them without agenda. And God gave me grace and since I’d decided, not sure why, it didn’t seem an intentional choice, to rest from berating myself for what not done; or the agony of the fear over never being done, I was open.

Open to mercy, to love, then came peace.

“May God give you more and more mercy, peace, and love.”

‭‭Jude‬ ‭1:2‬ ‭NLT‬‬

I’m linking up with others here: nitaojeda.com/2017/11/26/imm-november-12/