Brown Dogs and Smiles

Children, Faith, family, Motherhood, Trust, Uncategorized, wonder

I’m a contradiction when it comes to surprises. I love to be surprised. Surprises, such thoughtful efforts in anticipation of a smile. I get all wrapped up in the moment of surprise, but obsess over the stuff to make it happen.

Sunday was a spontaneous road trip, a surprise I imagined being special.

Colt

Colt, “Colton Dixon” to me, went to church. His bone and a tennis ball kept him company during Sunday School then he tee-tee’d in the woods behind the cemetery and we were on our way. ” you got this, Lisa…Good boy, Colt.”

Rainy day trip, traffic at a standstill for half an hour, too far to turn back, a restless lab and doubt bouncing around in my head in the car.

What a crazy idea. It’s gotta be raining there too. Who shows up with a dog, a tennis ball, bottled water and not much else to meet a young man in his white pants that can’t get dirty?

I parked at the Battery in Charleston. Warm breezes, sunny skies, sailboats and a grassy park filled with dogs. Colt, leapt from the car as I texted, “We’re here.” to my son’s girlfriend. She, shopping for a dress as a distraction said, “Headed that way.”

So, Colt and I stand, facing King Street to see them coming until I notice a group of people, one with a camera.

He, captivated by Colt waiting by my side, asks if he can take his picture. “Sure, I say.” Small talk begins, they’re from Charlotte.

“I’m here to meet my son, it’s a surprise…thought I’d bring his dog…

hope it makes him smile…he should walk up any minute.”

He did. He was surprised. Raphael, the photographer who strolled through the park and noticed an excited mama and a brown dog

Captured the smile.

And so this is how you take a chance on the weather

On spontaneity

on surprise.

And you get sunshine, memories and more surprised than ever imagined.

Raphael smiled, I hugged him.

He was surprised by my embrace.

And I said “God is so good!”

He smiled, nodding.

In Charlotte, NC and need a photographer? Check out Raphael Basisa at http://www.flawlesscapture.net/home.html

He’s got a big smile, big talent, spontaneity and heart…and now, Surpise! a dog named Colt on his website.

God is in the details.

Not so Far Ago

Children, Faith, family, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I looked at a photo from the beach today.

Austin grinning a big, carefree little boy smile and Heather, beautifully classic and on the cusp of womanhood.

God really blessed me, when he chose me for them.

Their smiles so close, I ‘m there now, right now…not at all so far ago.

Felt so close, not long ago at all.

As if I could turn my head to look back, allowing my feet to follow.

And be right there again on the beach, chasing birds.

This evening the clouds were heavy with grey white borders.

Like the remnants of an overnight fire.

Beautiful, soft and white against widespread blue.

I remembered mama when I turned to see the moon.

The moon, almost full. I felt her near.

I wondered then if the rain to come on Tuesday would obscure its fullness. Would the sad, grey dark of rain clouds obscure its shine?

I walked on towards home prolonging my return.

Stopped to look towards a yellow leafy tree and felt it then, the change in air, brushing my cheek as I paused.

A lightly cooler wind, as if God had suddenly, quietly moved up next to and beside me.

And I continued to think of my mama; sensing her now, again.

And turned to notice the changing clouds and continued towards home.

I noticed the red geraniums, a tradition for mama.

They’ve lasted through summer and into fall, and so I stopped to prune the brown and brittle leaves.

Looked up and saw the moon again, had followed me home.

and I think of mama.

Not so far, not far at all.

Long ago; but, not so far ago.

I could turn my head, or glance just slightly upward, so still and quiet in just a moment’s time, five years feeling like five minutes.

I know she’s not so far away.

The moon, the clouds, the sky…and the Lord.

Stilled and quieted myself like a small child is quiet with its mother,

like a small child is my soul within me.

Psalm 131:2

Grateful Pauses

Children, family, Motherhood, praise, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

Last week, I decorated jars.

Attached pretty slips of paper on twine wrapped greenery.

Greg added little openings in the jar lids and I smoothed out the paper labels Heather made, “Give thanks” labels for front.

Took them downtown, added a little sign to sit beside with Quiet Confidence, Isaiah 30:15 and my name

Calling them “Gratitude Jars”.

I need to make my own now, label it and become diligent in daily recall of blessings.

On my way home a couple of weeks ago, I stopped; another car and mine, waiting for light to change.

Two men on the corner, one helping the other.

One, shaky in his walk, clutching his brown bag, being led by the other down the sidewalk.

For just a minute, I wondered if I should be afraid, should flip the door lock.

I didn’t.

I watched, pausing to remember my daddy and a time he needed my help to walk, memories of his unsteady days.

This was the week of the remembering him 17 years gone.

And the memory of holding him up had nothing to do with drink.

I paused to watch and smiled.

It was a sweet, solemn time. He had surrendered to love, help and grace in his last months of life.

Another time, similar in scene, came to mind. Again, in the car. This time, Heather, Austin and I. A man holding a cardboard sign, dressed in clothes that were a little scary and looking towards our car as we approached.

My daughter and I remarked something; I can’t remember what now, not at all kind, I recall.

My son, probably around 8 spoke up as clear as a bell from the backseat…”What if he’s Jesus?”

And the car fell silent.

Pausing to remember even now, the conviction in his voice as he chastised us.

I headed home, the two men in the distance.

Thinking of my son now, knowing he still believes in what he said that day.

I will remember this as a “Grateful Pause”

Last Sunday, “Mr.Bill” had Children’s Sermon. He’s the best. He’s animated, unpredictable and loves to surprise them.

I always listen intently and watch their faces as I sit in the choir loft.

His props are the best. This Sunday, he pulled out a shovel.

He asked the group, “How many of you like to dig in the dirt?”

He paused. I paused.

And the sweetest memory came to rest. My eyes misted up just a little and I saw my Heather Analise.

Blonde, blue-eyed, wearing a sun hat. The two of us sitting together in the sandy field for hours on end. She digging in the sand. Me, digging my heels into the cool earth while she loaded dirt in her little shovel and then moved it to a pile, only to wedge her little shovel into that pile and move back to the other.

Hours on hours of the nothingness of our blissful play in the dirt with my daughter.

I pause even now, remembering and grateful for the sweetness of my life.

A grateful pause.

Grateful Pauses, I’ll label my jar.

I’ll jot these stories down and drop them in.

Then, I’ll watch and listen, pausing for more chances to be grateful.

Praise the Lord, my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name. Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits— Psalm 103:1

Linking up with Tell His Story writer, Jennifer Dukes Lee

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/the-best-seat-in-the-house-tellhisstory/

Day 5 of 31 Days of UNimpressive Writing: Geese, Bluebirds and New Chances to Love

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

The geese were back this morning.

First time in days.

I turned to make my way back inside, stopping to gather fallen leaves and heard their approach.Their sound a celebration of the day, exuberant and joyous it seemed.

I held fragile leaves in my hand, turned towards the sounds of geese and joined in their flight, my mind there with them, moving forward, renewed and committed to the day.

The ground is soaked here, covered in pine needles today. We were spared the damage of wind and flood, our yard simply evidence of rain, constant torrential showers. I was thankful today for leafy, wind tousled and soaking wet ground. Wet, muddy yard scattered with pretty color; my feet were planted in a level spot and I glanced towards the damp, steely sky.

My cousin called this morning and we talked of life, of children, of God. We were getting carried away, consistent in our anguish, of things we can’t let go, things that frustrate us. We talked about the flood of our weekend and she shared her experience of Hurricane Katrina. This flood, Joaquin prompted storm, had both she and her husband reliving the trauma. I told her I’m very afraid of water and wonder if people will be found dead in their homes. She said “Most likely” and shared of homes ravaged by Katrina that were marked with an “X” to indicate a dead person inside.

We meandered back to the subject of our children then.

We understand why we’ve mothered the way we have; just don’t know why we keep going back there,

Trying to be the mother they’ve outgrown.

The mother that meets our need, not theirs.

We’re making progress though, beginning to think as God thinks of us, agreeing that the greatest desire of our lives has been to parent well, differently, unquestionably committed to our sons and daughters.

We have been and are good mothers. We know this.

Never occurred to me until just now, I thought to myself. “I’ve parented well, absolutely wholeheartedly. Let God lead them now. ”

She got quiet, thinking, I assumed then excitedly announced “There are bluebirds in my yard. The most beautiful bluebirds are just outside on my porch!”

“God is telling us to have hope”, I said. ” He’s telling us to let go now, we’ve done our part, he’s ready to take it from here.”

They’ve left our nests; well-loved and knowing they are loved.

There are new, bright places for them to grow, us too.

Loved well and loving well.

New places to grow

Day 3 of 31 days of UNimpressive writing: only heart words… Turning Season

Children, Faith, Trust, Uncategorized

We take the winding roads on our Saturdays together, my daughter and I.

Stopping to notice leaf change.

Greens reaching up, folding inward, holding on, procrastinating the brittle change.

Golds, surrendered to season. Changing with changes.

Settled in scattered places under shelter of black, mangled ugly limbs strained from summer harvest.

Accepting change.

Surprised by the gift of surrendering our seasons.

Loving what has come, moving towards what we know is soon.

My daughter, a wife soon.

New seasons under God’s heaven

Everything

Turn, turn

There is a season.

Day 2 of 31 Days of UNimpressive writing: only from the heart: Our Given Names

Children, courage, Faith, family, Motherhood, Prayer, Teaching, Trust, Vulnerability

There’s a story about my mama’s name, mine too. She, Bette Jean, was supposed to have been called Elizabeth.

Mama wanted to call me Libby. Daddy said “No, that’s a can of peaches.” My grandma, “Bama” agreed to my name being Lisa; but, insisted on the Anne that follows.

Who’s to say whether we, over time, become our names or they were just right for us all along. My mama surely was not Elizabeth-like.

Couldn’t see her as a Liz or a Beth; Bette, for sure.

And me? Libby is cute, perky, and pretty. Not me. Lisa Anne is who I am, who I have become.

Heather could have been Olivia and Austin was almost Zachary.

Heather Analise, a child of God

Heather, open to life and at peace near open fields and cows. Her name fits. Analise added as a middle, pretty and classic.

Austin, James Austin, again just right. James a solid and reputable name, Austin, a nod to the dry humor and surprisingly big heart of his great-grandfather.

James Austin.a child of God

My children’s names, the names they have become.

I am thinking of the unthinkable today. One in college, the other a teacher leading a classroom of the youngest students.

I am trying, but struggling to place myself in the minds of the parents of students killed in Oregon.

I am wondering how, in the aftermath of terror and shock, I would feel to know that when asked, my children said they were Christians, told to stand and then shot.

I visualize not so clearly and can sort of imagine the scene.

Young adults, students, surprised by the intrusive presence of a peer with a gun, afraid; but, deciding to go with his demands, to not cause anger, to remain quiet, not draw attention to self.

To cower. To be compliant. I imagine this might have been their thinking in effort to survive.

Until, the question

“Are you a Christian?”

My children are Christians.

I witnessed the salvation of both and I’ve seen them acknowledge in ways big, small, private and outspoken, their faith.

They know Jesus. Jesus knows them.

People know that they know Jesus.

Children of God. A name that can’t be denied.

I am praying for the Oregon mamas and daddies, parents of children of God.

Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become Children of God. John 1:12

Thank you, Lord, for my name and for the names of my children.

Colors and Seasons of Now

Children, courage, Faith, family, Motherhood, rest, Trust, Vulnerability

Accepting change like leaves positioned expectantly waiting for God’s rich unknown.

Close enough to changing climate

Continue reading →

Plans and interrupted walks

Children, courage, Faith, family, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, wonder

We walked uphill that evening, Colt the big Brown dog and I. Like raising a toddler, it’s important to stick to routines like tennis ball toss before work and certain chew toy at bedtime. Walking, that day was a chore, pulling the leash and correction and command.

We rounded the curve and topped the hill then stopped suddenly.

At least twenty geese had gathered in the empty lot; pond on one side, subdivision the other. They lingered as if convened in strategic discussion as I waited, phone in hand anxious to capture the hysterics of geese taking flight and lab reacting to the chorus of winged flight and duck song. I untangled the leash, found camera on phone screen and steadied us both, dog and I for the flight show.

Then without chaos or startle, in orderly and quiet fashion, the pattern was complete and the geese ascended rhythmically upward and away. No crazy videos or shots of dog and bird, just one single image to keep. At first I missed it. Looking closely you can see it there between the pines, following pattern and plan. The one image of our walk interrupted by geese and God.

Flight

Today, I get to see my son. My daughter will see her little brother. We will acquaint and adjust knowing his pattern has been changed. We’ll talk of life and love without using the deep words or any words at all, knowing this time is a celebration of significant strength, grace and prayers heard.

We’ll meet up, convene for a while with my special beyond words cousin and then we’ll return home more convinced and thankful than before of God’s great and Sovereign navigation.

And we’ll thank for him for the better plan.

The one not seen until surrender, not known until pausing to look again.

O Lord , you have examined my heart and know everything about me. You know when I sit down or stand up. You know my thoughts even when I’m far away. You see me when I travel and when I rest at home. You know everything I do. You know what I am going to say even before I say it, Lord . You go before me and follow me. You place your hand of blessing on my head. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too great for me to understand!
Psalms 139:1-6 NLT
http://bible.com/116/psa.139.1-6.NLT

Waiting

Linking up with http://jenniferdukeslee.com/come-and-see-tellhisstory-with-a-book-dvd-giveaway/

Thank you Jennifer!

Feelin’ 55 and Flawless, my birthday song

Children, Faith, family, Motherhood, praise, Trust, Vulnerability

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My family…God has blessed me with a good life!

I was anxious and grouchy last night (again).

Worried about how I might look today, needing a haircut, needing the right outfit, needing not to be discombobulated and nerved out!

I had an important speech to give about our important work with homeless families. I needed to quiet the chubby, shy, girl and become the professional, outspoken and articulate woman.

Man, that can be a challenge lately!

Problem is I had to be up at 5:15 on my 55th birthday.

I was grouchy going to bed and most likely annoying everyone around me discussing my changing appearance and my fatigue.

For weeks I had been announcing that I would be “double nickels” to the point of most everyone wishing it had come and gone. No matter what my husband said, I would snap back, “I see the changes, there’s no need to tell me it’s not true.”

“I have a mirror, I am really aging. I might let my words get ahead of my thoughts. I either talk too fast or my slow southern drawl kicks in. And my hair, oh, I need a haircut. Cover the arms, elongate the neck, keep my hands still, keep my shoulders back…they’re recording this for the campaign, it’s important!” I said.

“You’ll be fine. I’m sorry you have so much stress on your birthday.” he said.

I needed to sleep last night.

I tried.

But, too much noise, thinking, planning, and doubting kept me awake. I had one of those nights when the alarm is actually good, at least the struggle is over. Finally permission to give up on drifting into more than a few minutes of sleep. First thought this morning? A song, a happy little upbeat song

Lying there in the quiet, early morning darkness, a set of lyrics phrase popped up and I’ve been celebrating all day this permission to have a happy birthday.

Words from a song I stopped to hear on Sunday, turned it up loud glad to hear it again, twice on Monday. Car singing, shameless stoplight karaoke:

“No matter the bumps
No matter the bruises
No matter the scars
Still the truth is
The cross has made
The cross has made you flawless”
Mercy Me

So I navigated my morning with the words becoming more real with each repetition. The gift of a song you can’t get our of your head, the message of grace, of God’s opinion of me on my birthday and every day.

What a gift, to be seen as flawless. The cross has made me flawless.

Short of time, no leisurely coffee sipping couch morning; I scribbled a quick journal entry prayer marked 8/11

Lord, help this be the year I truly see me as you do. Help me to embrace the me that you would have me be, made me to be.”

I remembered a special gift then. I paused to notice the words on the pretty little cross, slowing down to recall the verse.

The words beckoning me to believe the phenomenal love of God. The cross, a birthday gift a few years back from my soon to be son-in-law, hangs in my bathroom, supposed to be a daily reminder.

¹⁸And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. ¹⁹May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Ephesians 3:18-19

The meeting was good. I made it on time. I choose a bright pink dress instead of beige or black and I used words that made sense! My hands were still and people were attentive. I used words that made sense, and were impactful.

The right words at the right time are a blessing according to the Book of Proverbs…another gift!

“The presentation, the organizer of the event said, was flawless.”

“Thank you, Lord for words to songs, words on crosses. Thank you, Mercy Me and you, Lord, for the intricacies of my mind. For planting a song in my mind and on my heart today, a birthday song.”

A song of “Good morning, Lisa. Remember you are flawless.”

“Could it possibly be
That we simply can’t believe
That this unconditional
Kind of love would be enough

Still the truth is
The cross has made
The cross has made you flawless.”

FB_IMG_1439344175069_kindlephoto-22323540

Key Lime Cake…my girl can bake!

Happy Birthday, me!

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/three-of-the-most-important-words-you-could-say-tellhisstory/

Thank you Jennifer!

ok, focused and purposeful

Children, courage, Faith, family, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

If I could, I’d slow things down a little. At the same time, I’d hurry them, too. I’d have the path smooth and the transition complete. My son would have the crossed the bridge, navigated challenging waters and safely made it to Sophomore year, strong footing ashore.

I’d be watching my daughter entering the chapel down a white petal strewn aisle. I anticipate a feeling I can’t quite know. Joy, grace, beautiful graced gift from God. I’d have seen her exit reception filled giddiness to begin her married life.

My purposeful and insightful heart would be at rest.

The deep waters of change would be familiar, even serene.

Two life changes sitting impatiently in my heart. About to burst from the emotion of change, accomplishment and dream come true.

I’ve been thinking quite a lot. I’ve noticed the way my heart has responded to what good is coming.

I’ve embraced the journey.

I’ve become insightful, listened to stories, have had more of my own.

Then, I considered a Facebook hiatus. Two reasons.

There is a whole lot of trash and trashy there. There’s quite a bit of debate, incited and enticed. There’s a whole lot of visual of the horrible. It’s a challenge to look away. It’s hard to see clearly what’s true or what’s spectacular.

Second reason, just because I might be a tad too brave, too vulnerable, too honest in my writing. I write bravely, honestly and openly. It’s clear my Quiet Confidence is not Facebook appropriate.

FB, after all is really just attention seeking a like.

My words interest some, impact some, cause some to wonder. I write what others feel, but are afraid to say.

I’ll still write. Just not share so much. I’ll update my blog site, it needs more polish anyway, add a Follow button for readers. I’ll still have the address on FB for those who “get me”.

I’ll still post my scripture, daily; but not the long and personal stories of my journey of faith, of fear, of joyful answered prayers. People on my path and their stories becoming my story are my heart, my purpose. So, this will be content for the blog.

These things are honestly too real for attention grabbing and seeking audience of Facebook.

And it will be ok.

I noticed last week that I had been replying to emails with “ok”.

I thought, “Lisa, you should probably at least type the word out, capitalize the “O”, add a period or a smiley face at the end.

But, I didn’t. I was annoyed, stressed and pushed for time.

Please not one more question, request, requirement! Work on top of life journeys found me saying

Patience, Lisa. One thing at a time. One more day, one more thing.

Slow down, time. Hurry up, let me get through this!

I’m sitting in my sister’s den. It’s quiet. I have good coffee and I’ve had some good quiet. It’s raining now.

Rumbling thunder.

The dogs have come in. My nephew is napping. My son came along for the babysitting vacation and we played Scrabble last night.

My niece is beautiful and kind with the glow of confidence.

My daughter is home with the dogs and the engagement party is Saturday.

So, all is Okay.

I look up towards the mantle, “Should I water that plant?”

And I’m reminded to be patient, as I focus on the words.

Everything is going to be ok.

The words, I focus on the words.

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee

Thank you Jennifer!

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/tellhisstory-rock-bottom-the-color-purple-and-a-giveaway/

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