Day 9 of the 31 days of writing prompts caused me to groan.
Power.
I turned to weakness, my default or maybe not so much my fragility, but the preference not to lead, not to be involved in anything that requires power, assertion or influence of others.
Those days are done.
Afforded me time to take the blinders off, the struggles and strengths of others for way too long buffered what God needed and needs me to see in me.
It’s been long overdue and good.
Power?
Can we call it strength instead?
Then, I remembered my waking thoughts I framed with prayer.
Lord, help me know what those I love need from me.
The answer came eventually.
The strength I’ve been certain of going on a year.
Peace. I need to be peace. Not a peacemaker, interventionist or conflict resolver.
No, simply, I need to be at peace.
To be peace.
“Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.” Matthew 5:9 KJV
I need to “make peace” in others’ lives by example.
With this comes strength. With this comes a power that enables me to do for those I love or simply encounter.
Surrender is a big requirement, but one that brings ease. Clear vision of your own issues leads to change.
Peace is not getting what I want or want for others. Peace is giving whatever perplexes me continuously to God.
I thought that was its intent, especially the Book of Revelation. Can you relate?
Angry preachers and their warnings with the intention of frightening me towards God.
My twenties changed to avoidance altogether, no chance I’d dare to believe that punishment for my behaviors might be met with a full measure of mercy. Thirties brought hope, a timid hope that perhaps I could chance trusting, believing in a different way.
Here I am at sixty plus a year.
Going on a decade or so of steadiness in my seeking even if my walk isn’t always steady.
That’s the thing.
Unwaveringly and simply, I keep deciding moment by moment to believe God.
In my quiet and confident way.
In God who created me, saw me through choices and troubles that were not his intent for me.
Still, His intention is that I know now,
He never left me, never will.
Like the wings of angel draped around my shoulders, surrounding me in love.
I’ve been cared for. The foundation of my faith is His provision, protection, wisdom, mercy and grace.
When my days are complete. I want it to be said of me.
She kept believing in Jesus. She wasn’t afraid tolive according to His Word.
“I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete.” John 15:11 NIV
What did Jesus tell them, tells us through His recorded words?
Remain connected. Be a healthy and thriving branch of my goodness, mercy and love getting the nourishment to grow directly from me. (my paraphrase)
“…apart from me you can do nothing.” John 15:5 NIV
Love everyone. Endure. Be found faithful.
Be met by God on your last day on earth this way.
Leave stories of your faith for your children and grandchildren. Live this way, Lisa.
Even when others drift away, make allowances for sin and avoid hard conversations.
Abide in me, stay.
You don’t have be a fighter, just be you, a gentle and steady believer,
A victor of the faith.
“Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life.” Revelation 2:10 ESV
Lord, thank you for the changes you’ve brought in me and keep bringing as I continue and believe.
Suppose I post this little graphic on social media today, maybe add one word “please” in front of “pray”.
There may be a flurry of questions, curiosity over what in the world is wrong with Lisa?! (now).
Or maybe others would think…
there she goes again, talking about things she should keep to herself.
Either could be the case.
But, it is encouragement.
Pray.
The tattered book I’m revisiting has no dates beside the entries of my thoughts. There’s a smiley face beside a verse, dog-eared corners from not sure when. There are prayers, quite personal on the pages.
Prayers that have been heard, met with either answer or with growth, changes in me and situations.
Peace in the form of acceptance.
My prayers were heard.
They will be today.
Whether they’re the confident gratitude that thanks God for knowing or
The bewildered surrender that finds me face down and allowing tears. No words, just flow.
Or simply, again.
Thank you for today. I woke up well.
Recently someone likened “thinking about it” to “praying about it”.
Said it’s the same, just semantics.
I can say with certainty it is not. We can not know everything and so our thoughts are incapable of changing our conditions.
I’ll be careful here. I’m not a theologian and I’ve begged God for things I’ve yet to see.
But, oh the things I have been shown. It astounds me all the times I’ve prayed and resisted the urge to take action.
God has sweetly surprised me.
A phone call longed for that pops up, a request for Jesus to put his healing hands on a family, a plea for knowing more clearly than ever His nearness and protection.
Three very recent answered prayers.
A pleading soul is the soul at peace, at peace with its position in this universe.
“I prayed to the Lord, and he answered me. He freed me from all my fears. Those who look to him for help will be radiant with joy; no shadow of shame will darken their faces. In my desperation I prayed, and the Lord listened; he saved me from all my troubles. For the angel of the Lord is a guard; he surrounds and defends all who fear him.” Psalms 34:4-7 NLT
Lord, thank you for changing my understanding of prayer, of bringing me to here, a place to boldly say to others, “my encouragement to you is that you make prayer a priority.” Help me to help others see the powerfully available connection to you, the one who fully knows us.
Lord, keep teaching me to pray. In Jesus Name and because of your great mercy, I say
What’s one question you have? An intrusion in your thoughts that refuses to go on its way?
How does God feel about questions?
Us knowing a little, but aching to know everything.
I wondered.
A little may be all you’re supposed to know and may just be enough.
This way of thinking came after praying. To put it into practice, I listed the things I do know. They outnumbered those I don’t.
My vision is blurry. My understanding is unfinished. My conclusions are often skewed. I’m patterned to protect myself, to anticipate bad news, to not be knocked down by surprise.
So, I like to know it all.
I’m changing though.
I know goodness and grace and that my prayers are heard.
I know enough.
Because, I’m not yet whole and well, I’m not God.
I can just know a little.
If I use what I see as the answer to a long coddled question, I’ll forever be longing for earthly evidence, confirmation and rest.
When I understand I’m only supposed to see just a glimpse, the glimpse meant for me, and I trust that God alone needs to comprehend the rest
I won’t need the whole picture.
“For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.” 1 Corinthians 13:12 ESV
I’ll just need my view.
The view often found at the foot of the cross, the floor beside my bed.
Tuesdays are early days, good if I wake on my own, no shrill of startling alarm.
I did today. Turned to my husband’s side to see the red lit time after waking with the words.
Pray about everything.
Two minutes shy of alarm, 4:58.
Pray about everything. Be still. Hope endures. Trust and wait. Pray and be patient.
A word comes to mind as I find verses to reference prayer.
Platitudes, do my notes to self, casual recommendations to others feel less like truth and more catchy phrase, a platitude?
Maybe.
“Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done.” Philippians 4:6 NLT
Patience is the word prompt today. Who of us is bold enough or certain enough to say,
“be patient”?
Be patient, this season of death, distress and division will be over soon.
Maybe we did last year this time, but now it feels/sounds like an empty platitude.
So, here’s an idea. Keep praying. Keep being patient.
Maybe it’s with your husband who says soon we’ll redo the bathroom. Maybe it’s with the person in the little old truck either worked all night or just in no hurry and you can’t safely pass.
Be patient.
Repotted your orchid and you see green on the branches after all this time? Be patient.
Patience is a practice. Prayer too.
Pray now, something tiny.
Wait.
Watch your patience grow
and change from a shallow teeny hope, even crazy thing to something better.
Evidence only you will feel and know.
Be patient. Be small. See your world this way and pray.
“To be with God, in whatever stage of being, under whatever conditions of existence, is to be in heaven.” Dora Greenwell, Joy and Strength Devotional
From the kitchen window view, I felt hopeful for Fall, considered leaving the back door open, optimistic that the breeze might join the morning sounds of peace.
Refreshing, it would be.
Not quite yet, but pretty was the thought, the heavens met my request and answered with the ushering in of new.
Hoping to catch a shot of a spider in its web, I found comfort in the powder blue sky fluffed with white.
Turned back for coffee and saw the rosebud ever persistent and perky.
Life continues.
God sweetly says so.
What if you decide the life you think you want is not the life your heart knows is for you?
What if the only voice you answer to is God and the Spirit of Him inside you?
What if contentment isn’t a fight to the finish, instead a quiet knowing you’re already farther than you thought you’d ever go?
What if you shift all your measuring tools from “I was” to “I am”
And gently, gently let yourself be you encountering the doors that open to who you are “becoming”.
All without outside interventions, offerings or comparison.
Even if according to others, becoming feels like unjustifiable, unfair or underserved waiting.
What if you realize you’ve really no idea what it is you’re waiting for?
“Believe…life will surprise you.” Brandon Heath
What if who you are is quiet and you’ve been way too noisy?
Even if you’re the only frustrated listener?
It’s loud, overbearing…the you that’s unsatisfied.
“But the meek shall inherit the land and delight themselves in abundant peace.” Psalm 37:11 ESV
Continue and believe.
Decide to be close to God, unchanged. Look up, remember where you are when you’re with God.
Stay if you can. Return often and linger longer.
“For just one day of intimacy with you is like a thousand days of joy rolled into one! I’d rather stand at the threshold in front of the Gate Beautiful, ready to go in and worship my God, than to live my life without you in the most beautiful palace of the wicked.” Psalms 84:10 TPT
“He answered, “The man called Jesus made mud and anointed my eyes and said to me, ‘Go to Siloam and wash.’ So I went and washed and received my sight.” John 9:11 ESV
Growing
Two passages have held my interest in August, my writing sparse because of a desperate longing to correctly understand one and to linger in the hope of the other. Plus, my brain’s been a bit fuzzy, like a dull swirling of what next.
Anyone else?
The passage about the man blind from childhood whose parents were interrogated by the Pharisees about the cause and the remedy has captivated me.
“His parents answered, “We know that this is our son and that he was born blind.” John 9:20 ESV
The other is the passage that contains the words to “carry your cross” used often in sermons or songs. It always intrigues me. More so now because I believe I’ve been believing it wrongly.
“And whoever does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me.” Matthew 10:38 ESV
Once I heard a woman sing a song she wrote about her cross. Her voice was strong as she began and then wilted in weepiness towards the end. The lyrics told of her personal battles, her depression. These burdens she told us she had decided were her’s to carry, they were “her cross”.
I caught myself now thinking, “albatross”.
Mercy
I remember how hopeless it left me, her disclosure, and how I pondered the weight I’d be expected to lay across one shoulder for the rest of my life.
I’d be bent permanently by the burden of my traumas.
If my past was my cross I’d be like the aged and decrepit beggar on a back street barely carrying on.
Oh.
The road I often travel passes by the County jail. Men and women are leaving to walk towards town with paperwork in hand or they’re sitting at the exit, heads bent towards their laps, hoping soon their ride will be there.
I pray.
“Change their life for better, God, today.”
Last week, a young man I guessed to be in his late twenties stood on the corner waiting. He was dressed in clothes that didn’t seem to match a night spent in jail. He stood and then paced and I watched in my rear view mirror until watching was no longer possible.
I noticed something different. I sensed his deep contemplation and so I opened my hand to heaven and prayed, “Lord, let today be his turnaround day. Be near him in a new way.”
When Jesus passed the man who’d been blind from birth, the disciples asked him, whose fault is this?
Is he blind as a punishment for his wrongs or is he blind and it’s his parents’ fault?
Jesus told them no, it is because God wants others to see the possibility of hope, of healing.
“Jesus answered, “Neither. It happened to him so that you could watch him experience God’s miracle.” John 9:3 TPT
And I See
Now I see.
“The healed man replied, “I have no idea what kind of man he is. All I know is that I was blind and now I can see for the first time in my life!” John 9:25 TPT
And now I see, the cross I carry is not the cross of my past wrongs or wrongs done towards me. My cross is not a burdensome visible and invisible reminder of what Jesus healed me of and from.
My cross is the very cross Jesus died on, the sacrifice of surrender to His Father’s plan, the hope of eternity for all of us who would say like the blind man.
It was “the man called Jesus”. (John 9:11)
Who said , I can’t comprehend it all, I just know what I experienced and I won’t debate with anyone on how or why or if.
I’ll carry on healed and I’ll carry the cross that made possible my healing, the good shepherd’s brutal cross.
I will follow.
“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” John 10:11 ESV
I most likely won’t know what happens in the lives of the prisoners who’ve been set free.
I know hope is possible.
Healing is a moment away for any and everyone. Jesus is still near and miracles are still the evidence and purpose of the cross, the cross waiting for us to carry in exchange for every weighty sin, shame or trauma.
“It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.” Galatians 5:1 ESV
we run away from our discomfort... but it doesn't leave us. to heal we need to turn around and face it, experience it and once we truly do we are out of it. We heal and we grow.
2 Timothy 1:7-8 For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline. This blog is about my Christian walk. Join me for the adventure.
Lisa Anne Tindal 