Faithful as the Day, our God

Children, Faith, family, praise, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

The day began with cold rain.

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Nice to hear, fitting in a way.  I woke thinking of challenges, questions, contemplations over what the day might bring.

Might not.

I stepped outside, unconcerned with the cold and wet, then turned back towards inside to prepare for the day, the Sunday.

To not be bothered by cold, wet rain speaks volumes in terms of mood, of place in life.

Accepting the day.

Accepting the season.

My spirit, reluctant.

Meal started, dogs settled, lesson studied, dressed for Sunday.

And the sky changed to brilliant blue.

So, we drove; casual talk and heavy, pretty country road, trees clinging to sunlight.

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Faith, fear, hopes, goals, concerns and the such.

Almost cliche’, our rambling of topics has become.

Words befitting of our age and place in life, in relationship.

Sunday School lesson taught,  choir song sung ….

“Sweet, sweet spirit in this place…surely the presence of the Lord is in this place.”

I join him then.  Just us, no children on our pew anymore.

“I could hear your voice, it was good.” He says and holds my hand as we are reminded how to worship.

A sermon on commitment, being committed to your worship.

Being in the moments God brings, noticing He’s there always.

He is faithful.

The day, cold still and darkly stormy again as we drove back home.

Changing three times already, one day, three colors of sky.

House warmed by fire, meal finished up.

We sit together, just the two, with good food.

He offers up prayer that God keep us in His will.

Then football for him, painting for me.

A sweet, sweet spirit in this place, this season.

God will make this happen. For He who calls you is faithful.

 I Thessalonians 5:24

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Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee, Telling His Story

Dreams and mornings

Children, courage, Faith, family, Motherhood, Prayer, rest, Vulnerability, wonder

Colt and I sat for a bit this morning as the darkness lingered in the rain.  His usual sauntering towards the door could wait I suppose, as if he knew.

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Some thoughts, memories, random comments spoken yesterday found their way out last night.

Out from the places in my mind that apparently were unsatisfied with the time I devoted to pondering.

That’s where dreams come from, I’ve decided, good, bad, scary or beautifully outlandish.

They’re just bits of thoughts, really.

Not seen through to the end, tied up neatly, put away.

I dream quite grandly.  I notice explicitly, don’t just discard my thoughts, that I put them aside for later.

This morning, I unraveled the night’s inventory of yesterday’s profound incompleteness of thoughts.

And, the big dog rested his head on the edge of his bed, heaved a satisfied sigh and waited there.

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I notice most everything, ponder things longer than most.

It’s a gift and a burden. A gift, because I care deeply.

A burden because my mind sometimes hoards  what should be let go, the irrelevant and the irrational.

Holds onto a thought, a conversation and then goes to bed with

“What if?

So, I rose early on my day off.  Saw my daughter who went to bed exhausted and achy as bright as sunshine and crisp as blue sky, heading out into rainy darkness to bless little  4-year olds.

Thankful she was not sick and I smiled at the thought of bride.

Just a little blip of a bad and worrisome dream….not reality,

Yay for a pretty wedding in less than three months!

And my son was asleep, his last day at home. He had not left with his guitar on his back without saying goodbye.

Another dream, not so much a “blip”.

More like a marathon on Netflix, an engrossing drama, looking everywhere for something, all vivid characters and colors.

Dreams that make you thrilled for morning.

Mornings mean clarity and gratitude.

Best things about it to me along with coffee and Bible.

Big dog patiently waiting as I scribble, read, thank.

Until we begin the day, noticing.

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Noticing all day, all the goods, turning the not

Putting it Together

Children, courage, family, Motherhood

I decided to buy a puzzle.

Thought of us working together, something new, unexpected.

Calm, but frustratingly challenged to find “that” piece.

It’s a unified task, a togetherness challenge.

It’s like-minded thinking…”Why on earth did we start this?” and  “Oh, here I found your piece!”

A different game night for us. My idea, they expected Scrabble.

1000 piece puzzle of lip balm...no idea. I thought they were candies

1000 piece puzzle of lip balm…no idea. I thought they were candies

We had dinner, cleared the table.

They indulged me. My daughter and her fiancee. My son and his girlfriend.

Then stayed there, circled ’round, elbow to elbow, our searching eyes scanning expanse of bright jigsaw.

Flipped the pieces, separated ends and corners.

And together, we did something new.

Something different.

Together on New Year’s Day

Putting it together, together.

Nothing better than that.

 

 

 

Following your Star, Unwrapping your Gift

Children, courage, family, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, wonder
Advent Thoughts

Advent Thoughts

On today, the day before the eve of Christmas Eve, I started with a note from my daughter, reminding me of Christmas coming…”feel better” it said and so I committed to feel better.

And I did.  Some little things happened to help in the betterment of day. Gifts were wrapped, special notes written and gifts received.

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Beautifully gifted day

I prayed twice and then read about the star that was followed by the wise men.

Thought of them differently, not of bearded ancient figures with long flowing robes walking through the desert gazing upward.

I thought of them as wise people, intelligent, wise men.

It occurred to me then that the star must have been so spectacularly compelling they couldn’t imagine not seeking to know more.

Couldn’t imagine turning back, abandoning their souls’ fulfillment.

Wise men, yet still seeking to know more, to experience fullness as their feet followed, guided by brilliant star.

So, I jotted quickly, so as not to forget the thought.

Hesitant to record my thoughts because they felt strong like epiphany.

To write in my journal might lessen the power of my thoughts.

But, I wrote a note to self:

“What’s your star?  Where is the place God has for you?  What gifts in store?  What is the work God would have you achieve, knows you’re both capable of and long for?

If my feet followed my heart led by Jesus, knowing spectacular like a bright star awaits, I wonder where I’d be.

What gifts are waiting for my unwrapping?

Is it writing?

Painting?

Maybe the joy of leading by example, so that others move towards their calling, their joyous star. 

Loved Ones

Children, family, Motherhood
Merry Christmas from us!

Merry Christmas from us!

On Day 19 of Advent, I’m loving this bright little card with petite poinsettia and holly branches.

Scattered evergreen branches and red berries all thrown together, a mixture of little plants, one complementing the other.

Like our Christmas card, we chose the one with us all there together.

Including girlfriend and fiance

We loved the one that captured us all, loved ones.

Not perfect or proper, but blended well and behaving side by side and loved one by the other.

Angel moon and stars

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

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The moon tonight had an angelic halo type haze circled around.

Many years ago, we’d made it back home from my mama’s funeral and had collapsed back into the house.

Worn, weary and drained.

Grief has a way of doing that.

You go through the motions of the ceremonial last gathering and when you’re done…you’re really done and emptied of most everything.

But, on that night almost six years ago,  my nephew called.

Told us all,  “Go outside, look at the moon…grandma Bette is looking down.”

And we did, my daughter and I, walked out into the cold January night and turned towards heaven to see the moon.

To stay there in that place, moonlit bright, shiny and fuzzy with glow as we felt mama, Grandma Bette looking down.

Tonight, the moon looked the same and I paused, not sorrowful or longing for backward steps; instead moving on as I drove.

Secure in the presence of moon, of mama.

Weaving on roads with few other people out, a cool night, stars all around and a crescent moon with a soft glow.

Making my way back home to son, daughter, husband and dogs…the glow of Christmas to greet me, the colors of Jesus filling the rooms.

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I thought of the stars again,  imagining how brightly they must have shone on the night our Savior was born, unobstructed by city light, by busy life.

I thought of shepherds following one star.

I wondered if they were convinced or unsure.

Doubted whether to continue on…following a star.

I wondered if their only hope was hope enough, to glance upward to stay on course, continuing on because of the one they were seeking.

The long expected one to guide us when star shine faded.

… they went on their way, and the star they had seen when it rose went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was.

When they saw the star, they were overjoyed.

Matthew 2:9-10

Overjoyed by where the star led them.

Like me, maybe my nephew, my daughter, nieces, brothers and sister.  We look towards the moon that leads us to remember, its aura, like an angel with halo.

We pause to lift our faces towards heaven.

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All the Pretty Colors

Children, courage, Faith, grace, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized

Today’s Advent card, Day 13, is splattered in the warmth of colors.

Little flowers, leaves, stems all mingled together, all God’s creation.

Thinking of mama and remembering what God can do

Thinking of mama and remembering what God can do

 

Last night, Heather convinced me to watch a football awards show.  I sort of watched, I guess.

I did get to see Dabo Swinney speak very confidently and with humility. I also got to see him dance surrounded by his players who were laughing at and with him, it was a happy time. A lot of love in that room.

Then, we both were captivated by a young football  player who accepted an award he was obviously honored to receive, yet had not an ounce of cockiness in his stance. I don’t think he said it, but,  he just had a look of “blessed” as he received his award.

Then the award, I wish I could remember the name for was given to a 28 year old  veteran,  his story of returning from war to college football and the tormented memories he carried.

A big, handsome man who thought not of himself but, but of the friend in his Echo Company who’d lost the battle of holding fast to hope. He died by suicide,  must have been one night this week, joining several others from this company, he said.

The young man, the older man, one white and one black.

Both humbled, both honored, both had persevered.

Both were fighters, had purpose.

Both cried the same eyes pooled with tears.

My daughter and I did too.

When my mama lived she taught us many lessons. I can’t say with confidence that they were taught to her.

What I believe is that she came to these truths because she was a lover of all people.

She told us many, many times. “There are good white people and there are bad white people. There are good black people and there are bad black people and some people are just mean as hell.”

Now, my mama loved the Lord.

She revered God;  but, she also spoke truth when it needed to be heard.

She told us again and again…”You know everybody sittin’ in that church pew on Sunday morning ain’t going to heaven, it’s just show.”

She was teaching us to see others for who and where they are.

Good people

Bad people

People trying to figure out which to be.

Teaching us “But, by the grace of God, there go I.”

She taught us how to live in a world with others, loving, her legacy.

This morning, before getting out of bed, God pulled some things together for me.  He had me looking back on my week and said,

“Lisa, this is why I placed this person on your path…all these people have purpose. I know you’re gonna need these to get through the ugly situation to come.”

A woman who helped me this week, she lives in our homeless shelter. We talked about her son, 17 years old.  She never thought to ask if he could visit.  He’s  coming to visit Christmas Eve. It started with me asking, “Do you miss your son?”

Or the high school student who shouted “Mrs. Tindal!!!” When she saw me, saying “Let’s do a selfie.”

We did and it was the best shot of the day.

Amelia and I

Amelia and I

Last night, a friend whose son knows this young lady told me her mama had died of cancer several years back. I had no idea.

I’m so glad we hugged each other.

A friend stopped by to tell me an alarming story of a comment made because of her race.  I stood and listened, so hurt for her that I cried.

We held hands and promised to pray for each other.

A big and thoughtless mistake was made on my son’s campus. The media has spread the bad,  neglecting to add any good…the possible cause for misinterpretation. I’m glad my son was not a part; but, I’m shaken by the ripple effect.

So, I think again of mama and I think of good and bad.

I think of things only God can do while we, like mama try to be honest, true, kind and obedient catalysts for good, for God.

I think of my daughter’s tears over the young black athlete. Because she, every single day has big hopes for all the little boys she teaches and tells them so by her actions “You can be something really good one day.”

I remember my son as an elementary student, adamantly denying that his friend was black…He’s brown!!!

The 4 year olds in my daughter’s class have new, more accurate names for color too…maybe peach, tan, beige or brown.

Not black or white.

All the pretty colors, truly he taught us to love one another.

O' night divine

Fall on your knees,
Oh hear the angel voices,
Oh night divine, oh night when Christ was born.
Oh night divine, oh night, oh night divine.

Truly He taught us to love one another,
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother,
And in His name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us praise His holy name.

Christ is the Lord
Christ is the Lord, oh, praise His name forever
His power and glory ever more proclaim!
His power and glory ever more proclaim!

Silent Nights

Children, Faith, family, grace, Motherhood, Trust

Very soon, I will have silent nights.

Less late night dishwashing cycles, no waiting for distinct sounds of cars pulling in or sounds in the middle of the night  “Who’s in the bathroom, what’s wrong?”

Today’s Advent card, sandwiched between my two favorites is a beautiful image of “Silent Night, Holy Night.”photo-33_kindlephoto-9945622

And I’ve not finished our tree yet. Nor have we mailed our cards or drawn names for our Georgia Christmas.

But, the crazy, funny, most wonderful thing happened this Christmas.

Heather said, “Mama, why don’t we make ornaments from old photos and hang them on pretty little ribbons?”

And I asked, “How did you know I had that idea?”

It’s quiet now; but, some things happened today that I could run rampantly anxious over.

I could read too much and read into too much.

Instead, I look over at our tree and know in just a little bit, I’ll pray for them both, opening my hands towards heaven.

My babies

My babies

Placing my babies there in God’s hands.

This time next year, in the solitary and silent nest of home

I’ll be praying still for my children.

They belong to you, Lord. Just humbled to be their mama.

Sing Your Song

Children, Faith, family, grace, praise

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I stood outside my daughter’s bedroom one day.

She was singing before church.

Her voice, clear and honest, uninhibited.

Not too long ago, I walked as softly as possible towards my son’s door as he played his guitar.

Day 4 of Advent is depicted in bright, vibrant combination of colors.

Hark!  The Herald Angels Sing…Glory to the newborn king.

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I bet the angels sang like a Sunday morning praise with no one around or a Sunday afternoon strum to calm the soul.

When Jesus was born in a manger under a starry sky of cobalt blue.

Unabashedly, joyously and unreserved.

My friend Carolyn is an accomplished artist.  She encourages me.

She prefers oils,  pastel or watercolor.

She and I talked of layering, of color and of creating with abandon.

Our hands covered in color, applied with intent or spontaneity, uninhibited.

Velvety vivid, touchable colors created for emotion

With emotion.

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Singing when no one’s around or  fingertips covered in color.

All art is praise.

Joy.

Glory to the newborn king

Born to be our Savior.

To be gloriously and happily praised.

In the quiet private and the wide open.

 

 

 

 

 

Golden Morn

Children, courage, family, Motherhood, praise, Vulnerability, wonder

From my morning spot on the couch, the sun came through in an all of sudden attention seeking way.

I glanced up to feel its greeting and then basked in its exhibition.

A wall, covered in memorabilia admittedly in excess, I remembered our color game.

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I spy with my little eye…

Blue denim jacket, straw-colored pony tail, coal-black labrador and brown crinkled winter grass among brown,white, tan-colored beagle

Loved you long, long time labs and beagles, she has.

And red striped swimsuit next to hand holding sister in pretty peach, ladylike tiny hand hair held back from brown freckled cheeks.

And rusty, brown, yellow and white kitten lapping snow-white milk from a silvery bowl, little chubby pink cheeked blonde boy, kneeling beside with happy brown eyes

A magenta painted door behind ornate black Charleston gate. No reason for keeping until now,  a place my heart is drawn.

A postcard from travel, a thank you note from a young man,  handwritten words faded gray.

Sandy white gulls under powder blue sky, white tidal froth and bronze colored little boy arms tossing bread towards the sky, sailboat scattered print hanging from tiny torso.

A beautiful young woman, pretty blue eyes framed by incandescent lemony hair.

Lime green frame, artsy black text added.. love you to the moon and back…a bright red heart and orange crescent moon, a thinking of my mama even though I’m with others gift from Heather.

A rustic bird made of brown, buff and grapevine green, reminding of mountain climb as family.

A starkly detailed pen and ink, a black masterpiece of bugs, Austin creative and elementary.

I spy with my little eye the colors of my world.

Memories colorful and cherished, warmed by early morning light.