contentment

Hidden Away

Abuse Survivor, birds, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, fear, grace, Holy Spirit, hope, Peace, rest, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom, wonder

Last night the dreams did that filtering thing, bringing all the half processed thoughts to the surface so that morning’s arrival could have a blank slate.

Angry encounters, loneliness amongst others, worry, an almost real sense of illness and a vivid place of being taken advantage of.

I understand the purpose of dreams when they are this threatening, this vulnerability revealing.

What was heavy becomes evidence now of false narrative and a waking up to return to truth.

“I am convinced that any suffering we endure is less than nothing compared to the magnitude of glory that is about to be unveiled within us.”
‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:18‬ ‭TPT‬‬

Last weekend my husband and I stole away for a couple of days in a time it seems we’re supposed to be hunkering down, getting ready to fight, a time of yet more uncertain events.

We were among the leaves, the curving hills and valleys, the powerful rush of water, the sound of leaves tousling under our feet and dancing downward.

In the afternoon I sat and rocked alone on the old porch shielded by camellias. The inn was uncrowded because of pandemic.

I simply sat. Several minutes into the comfort of nothingness, I turned to see an oddity.

In the corner of the porch, the shape of a dark bird sat. I turned away and then looked again, still there.

I puzzled over the shape. Had somebody left a carved bird there for sweet decoration, was it one of those country birds people put on a shelf, the legs dangling?

I waited, no hurry to decide what it was.

I began to be sure that it was there just for me. My soul was stilled. The world around me a mess and yet, I am sitting quietly with a simply beautiful view and I’m rocking gently in an old wooden chair.

All was good, was well.

Sunset approached and I quietly decided to see more closely the figure in the corner.

I stepped gingerly and I saw it, a sparrow who allowed my visit and then fluttered away.

I went to tell my husband and to dress for dinner. As we stepped towards the porch I shushed him, maybe we will see it.

And we did. Back in its safe place, we both saw the bird.

“It’s roosting.” my husband said.

Oh.

The bird wasn’t there when we returned after dinner nor on Sunday when we departed.

Only Saturday as I sat resting from hiking and in between a good long call with my son and a FaceTime with my daughter and hers.

I knew it was God.

I know it was His nearness in a visit with a roosting bird.

Now I know roosting is different than nesting as far as the pattern of a bird. Roosting is sitting still, finding a place to rest and returning there for comfort, for safety.

Maybe we roost when we allow our souls to rest in God’s tender but massive hand. Maybe we confidently return to our little place.

“A wonderful Savior is Jesus my Lord,
A wonderful Savior to me;
He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock,
Where rivers of pleasure I see.
He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock,
That shadows a dry, thirsty land;
He hideth my life in the depths of His love,
And covers me there with His hand,
And covers me there with His hand.”

I pray you know God’s nearness today, that the noise of all other is quieted by a view, a song, a sound and that if sleep awakens buried fears, you wake with assurance of being never alone and you rest in the safe place of that knowledge.

God is for you.

Future Plans and Surprises

bravery, Children, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, grandchildren, heaven, hope, Motherhood, Peace, Prayer, Truth, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom

I’m not sure why God, or maybe it’s life that did it, made my hopes and angst and wishes always be from the perspective of my children.

On earth as in heaven, I suppose I ask God for this. Quite often, I ask God to surprise my children, make them certain it was Him.

There are countless hopes my heart holds for them, some of them things they long for, some are ideas of my own.

I’m a mama of adult children. I can’t hold or control them. I can only pray with open hands and unnamed hopes with their names circled in my journal.

I give God control. He is a buffer of protection. He loves them more than I.

I want to know they are well and that they are loved well.

I want them (and me) to embrace heavenly things as pursuit in a time when earth is so uncertain.

“Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.”
‭‭Colossians‬ ‭3:2‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I want them to see me trying, admitting it is hard and yet, waking up to try again.

Even on days and days on end when what’s ahead is unclear.

Put one step forward not backward. One step on days when a greater distance feels difficult or detoured by these crazy days.

Step forward, think forward.

Set your intentions on being intentional in the days ahead of not knowing much at all.

Considering maybe God is breaking our addiction to control this year to show us knowing everything doesn’t keep us safe.

It is only knowing Him that is safe at all.

“You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭26:3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Linking up with others prompted by the word “ahead”.

Ahead

Never Fails

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, grace, Holy Spirit, hope, memoir, mercy, Prayer, Redemption, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder, writing

If you will get quiet, God will come near and tie up the edges of your thoughts, bring them together and bind them as a chapter in your story.

I know this to be true.

Last week, a stranger called. Someone told her I had connections, good at problem solving, helping others not give up.

I listened and advised, adding I’m not really connected any longer with people in places of helping others.

I listened as she told her story, one of divorce, of children who struggled, of being diagnosed with physical infirmity.

“Everything has me feeling so broken.” she said.

“When we accept our brokenness and give up our own repairs, we allow God to make beautiful things of our lives.”

Quietly, she agreed and thanked me for reassuring her that the connections she has already made are the right ones.

This morning, quiet with God, I thought of a song’s lyrics, “we won’t be shaken” and I journaled a tender note to myself remembering my talk with the stranger.

Love never fails. I Corinthians 13:8

The note to self, confirmation that according to God, I am enough. The rich blessings I know are more than I expected. I can rest. I can quiet my soul.

Art, writing, telling my story of redemption, these are I suppose options, either way, I am loved.

Do you believe God loves you no matter your talent, success or bravery? It’s a difference maker, this realization.

It’s the evidence of the presence of His Spirit in you, the comfort of truly doing things to God’s glory, not yours. It’s the sign of surrender that will set you free.

I’m only beginning to see. Still, it is freedom for me.

Some know of my book idea, the redemption story I’ve carried for very long. God turned the tables on that story and is piece by piece, giving me a more beautiful one, one that’s not relentless in remembering the past, focused on women like me who bravely stepped forward.

Who’s to say if it will be written. I’m okay either way. The beautiful thing, God is okay with me as well.

The same is true for you, the gracious and merciful love of God guiding your every endeavor.

Visualize it. God looking down on you, seeing your capabilities, your talents, your unique approach to sharing your God story. I see Him seeing us, seeing us getting closer to the story He wrote of us, seeing us combine His love, our bravery and just enough humility.

Whether or not you follow through on the things God made you to do, beautiful ideas only for you, is mercifully up to you.

Oh, that you would bless me indeed, enlarge my borders, that your hand would be with me and keep me from harm so that I would not be in pain. Jabez’s prayer

What can hear God saying in the quiet?

Listen. He’s patient in your response, gracious no matter your decision.

His love never fails. Let your life tell others.

Unimaginable Things

Abuse Survivor, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, grief, heaven, hope, Peace, rest, Salvation, Truth, Vulnerability, wonder

“We have this certain hope like a strong, unbreakable anchor holding our souls to God himself. Our anchor of hope is fastened to the mercy seat which sits in the heavenly realm beyond the sacred threshold,”
‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭6:19‬ ‭TPT‬‬

Hope is the thing that gives us permission to imagine, more than imagine, be sure of when there seems so little clarity, even less certainty.

Hope does not, cannot disappoint us, the hope of things not seen, heavenly things.

Hope is not a visible thing and at times makes little sense. Hope is internal, it is God planted, it is that tiny idea of a seed that begins with believing.

Then it grows when God comes close through His Spirit in our soul.

“For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness.”
‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:24-26‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Hope, like God’s Spirit in our souls is an advocate, a guide, a loyal friend. We question the worth of our hope in tragic or trying times.

We catch ourselves falling into the trap of despondency, dismay, anger, doubt or heavy grief.

We stay there maybe, it’s okay. Hope never leaves. We gradually find it, it finds us again.

Because hope does not disappoint.

“And this hope is not a disappointing fantasy, because we can now experience the endless love of God cascading into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who lives in us!”
‭‭Romans‬ ‭5:5‬ ‭TPT‬‬

I’m not sure we can make it without hope. I’m certain actually, that I could not.

We cannot see hope, can’t put it on the calendar, hold it in our hands, display it in our homes.

It’s visible only to the soul tethered to God. It’s visible in sometimes secret ways. Other times it holds hands with others and we join in our feeble grips in being anchored together.

We are hopeful. We’ve been promised eternity. We believe it.

Changing Contents and Adjusting Views

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, coronavirus, courage, curiousity, Faith, hope, memoir, mercy, Prayer, Stillness, Trust, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder

I changed it up today, wondering if anyone ever has oatmeal that’s not sweet. I woke early as if God knew I’d need a little extra time to combat fear.

Savory Not Sweet

Read my Bible, scribbled a prayer, and decided before sun up I was hungry. Boiled the water, added oatmeal and then changed from the usual cinnamon, raisins, etc.

I added cream cheese with veggies, taco cheese and bacon. I encourage you to try this.

You may also need carbs today.

Change a little thing, adjusting maybe the whole direction of your day.

Because twenty minutes before, the dread of our days took over, one post on FB by a well meaning and very kind friend…predicting we’ll be wearing masks through November and not as in next month, but November 2021.

My chest tightened. I looked away, shut it down and wrote a prayer.

Our Father, please end this fear that surrounds us, prods us, interrupts our mornings. Please come quickly and make us more fearless or in a mighty wave, remove completely this thing that causes us to fear we are wrong, to fear that you won’t make right all the wrong…that we are not really so courageous at all, after all. Remind us our strength flows through our closeness with you. We thank you that you never leave us even when our thoughts lead us away.

3 things I’ve learned this month:

Adjust.

Ask for help.

Tell yourself because of your kinship with God,

You can do hard things.

Adjust your perspective of what you hear, see, encounter. Change as it is necessary and at your own pace. Acknowledge you’re not everything and not equipped to do all things on your own. Be less stubborn and shamed by your inability and more open to others who are able and willing to help. Say to yourself on the regular “You can do hard things.” Say so not in a superpower or simply motivational way.

Say so because you remember the hard things you thought you couldn’t do but did.

Walking is an exercise in filtering my mind, conditioning it for better content, noticing what is correct from the perspective of my relationship with God.

Just A Tree

I walk with my granddaughter, eyes to the ground, back to her prancing stride and back to the ground again, surveying the surface, keeping her safe.

We pass this fallen branch every time and I pause and consider how it looks like a giant snake.

Then, I pause again and I am intentional, I unwrite my own dreadfully strange and scary story. I tell myself, it is true that tree branch decayed and fallen resembles a snake; but, it is not a snake.

I curtail the fear.

I adjust my thoughts.

We walk and sing, dig in the dirt, sometimes we both dance.

We notice God together.

With the autumn season comes a change in the woods. Leaves dance like twirling ballerinas in front our faces. Strange mushroom fungi affix themselves to trees, birds are happier it seems.

Beautiful Mystery

The earth is sprinkled with the mystery of little white veils lying themselves down overnight.

My granddaughter sees them, carefully approaches and looks up to me.

Her little hand reaches and with her one little finger she separates the mystical veil.

She lifts her arm for me to reach down then places the moist finger that touched nature’s mystery to my cheek.

We notice God together. It is clear, His nearness.

“But in the depths of my heart I truly know that you, Yahweh, have become my Shield; You take me and surround me with yourself. Your glory covers me continually. You lift high my head when I bow low in shame.”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭3:3‬ ‭TPT‬‬

Know that God is still God. Adjust into the changes required of you, asking for help as help is needed and take a minute to recall the hardship you survived, you and God together, stronger than you could fathom.

Continue and believe.

Days Ahead

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, family, hope, Peace, Prayer, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom

The purple blooming shrub my husband transplanted from his mama’s generous garden has graced the fence border, I believe, for three years.

Now the petals are faded and in the process of brittle decay. Positioned next to the Rose of Sharon with its pods all dried up and closed like little wrinkled up grocery bags, the back yard is changing.

The pool will be covered, the chairs put away. The place for evening sitting will be just a couple of chairs in the corner and from time to time, the metal fire pit I requested.

We will watch Winter come and we will wait.

I pray we will rest.

Rest assured that the tiny purple flowers will explode with renewed growth, the rose bush will go crazy with magenta again and the pool will be reopened after Easter.

I bought a yellow beach ball yesterday with a little face of a baby chick and wings on either side, $1.99.

I thought of next year.

Of laughter around May.

Prayer time this morning conjured up an expression used to make a point, to reassure, to stand firm in your opinion in an argument.

“Rest assured.”

I left the words on the page, under my supplications.

The words that tell me come what may I have assurance.

Assurance of God knowing me and my family. Assurance of them knowing Him.

Rest assured. I can do that today. Mountains move, seas roar, tragic untimely deaths happen, confrontations heighten, animosity threatens.

Rest assured, though. God still calms seas, moves mountains, protects us as He is able against the enemy’s influence, fights for us

Fights for us gently in the call for us to know Him, to notice.

When you see God today, hear Him, you’ll know.

He’s still here and He is still mighty.

Rest assured.

“Mightier than the thunders of many waters, mightier than the waves of the sea, the Lord on high is mighty! Your decrees are very trustworthy; holiness befits your house, O Lord, forevermore.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭93:4-5‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Rest assured.

You will find Him because He longs to be recalled, to be called upon, to be found again and again by you.

Continue and believe. New days are ahead.

Receive Grace

Angels, Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, coronavirus, courage, Faith, grace, hope, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Salvation, surrender, Truth, Vulnerability, waiting

Receive grace, we need it. We’re going to need it. Regardless of November, hopelessness is a wound not even close to being healed, the result of our lack of control, uncertainty, the open-ended question of the coming year, the apathy towards each other, the numbing that’s happening to us to the extent we don’t yet know.

“That’s a lot, Lisa…I thought you were a person of faith?”

I know. Today I prayed beside my bed, no words, just a position.

Surrendering the moment.

…and by Him, everyone who believes is freed. Acts 13:39

Belief is a very personal thing, prayer is too. God, knowing each of us completely and individually knows us “down to the very bones” and yet, sees us worthy of the very grace we received when we accepted the sacrifice of His Son, Jesus. We decided then I can’t fix this, in fact in my humanness I am unfixable.

Still, I work hard and with intention and a word we love, “perseverance” to see the measure of my faith be represented by works. It’s how we’re wired and we forget that physical wiring never is enough.

Praise, prayer and worship with music rein me back in closer. I find myself opening my hands to heaven when a song touches my tender wounds, thrilled to be uninterrupted on my knees beside my bed or joining others in prayer with both hands palm up to God.

Giving God the hopes, fears and thanks.

Today, I read “Receive His grace all day.” It struck me that the hands I open to give are rarely opened to receive from God. I forget that I need His grace all day long, every moment. More importantly, I forget that His grace is a reservoir that never runs dry. I forget that it is ours simply for asking, just by saying, I need you every hour. Again, I’m not able on my own and you know it God, still you wait patiently for me to remember.

We cannot put our hopes in this country. I’m sorry if that sounds unpatriotic. It hurts to know that and I worry that hopelessness is outpacing the destruction of the pandemic. Without hope, without God and His grace, none of us can sustain our own manufactured hope.

Open your hands as needed today. Receive grace.

“Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”
‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭4:16‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Beautiful, In Time

Abuse Survivor, bravery, contentment, courage, curiousity, hope, mercy, Peace, Redemption, Stillness, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

Don’t you love it when the sky, pre-dusk and cloudy draws your eye up

to see a round ball with an aura and you’re confused over whether it is the sun or the moon?

But, it doesn’t matter. You’re not bothered by your lack of wisdom in the area of science. You’re enamored with the beauty, the beauty of the sun and/or moon.

Don’t you love it when you recognize your bravery and for only a minute, even less, you allow it to make you afraid,

Afraid of others, afraid of too much true you?

Don’t you feel brave when you are you?

Don’t you just love it when you reach down to collect another feather because to you, it means something, to you it feels like you see me?

Do you see the change when your aunt sends you off from your visit with a pot of your own of “hen and biddy” succulents?

Don’t you feel brave when she doesn’t remind you that these grey green waxy flowers are from the funeral arrangement of your mama

And you remember but you don’t linger in the scene of sorrow’s visual?

Don’t you love it when even grief can become beautiful, when you see me more clearly and see more clearly how I see you?

Beautiful all along,

even more evident and every thing beautiful, in time?

Don’t you love it?

God


Overwhelmed with bliss are all
who will entwine their hearts in him, waiting for him to help them. Isaiah 30:18, Passion translation

Joyful About

bravery, confidence, contentment, Faith, hope, Peace, praise, Prayer, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom

I was talking with someone about when we will be able to do things again. As in, freely go places, have conversations, be excited to mingle without reservation.

Maybe meet new people in crowded social settings, excitement buzzing spaces filled with possibility.

We are all tired I decided the other day. We are tired and we’re humble. We’re less inclined to invite debate, we aren’t so keen on giving our opinions on the mask or not mask.

At least I’m not.

Bordering apathy.

Some of us are. Walking helps. Telling our truth invites comfort.

Music or not. Music that reminds of the faithfulness of God or no song at all other than the feather flap together of a bird colored blue taking off.

Walking helps, the stride, wide and determined, a remedy.

This evening, I opened my palm toward the sky and I repeated a prayer, not like a beggar or to remind God what I’d said.

No, to remind myself. You prayed this. God heard.

The clouds looked like fresh whipped cream intermittently added to a trifle bowl.

I thought of my mama, the desserts she was known for.

Thin layered chocolate cake, red velvet and pound and her strawberry trifle.

I smiled. The clouds like homemade real whipped cream from heavy and sugar.

I felt lighter.

I walked on home.

God saw me, He knows.

My prayers for the ones I love are in heaven and I am here looking upward.

I am waiting.

Waiting for a time we’ll be joyful over one thing or another again.

A sky so splendid, most every single day, Lord, I promise I won’t waste it.

I’ll accept it as evidence, open my hand towards heaven to welcome it, welcome you and count on your promise as truth.

Continue and believe.

Yet Believing

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, grace, grandchildren, hope, Peace, praise, Prayer, Salvation, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting

My daughter texted me to share that her daughter, 16 months old yesterday, had put her pants on by herself this morning.

I asked if she’d noticed other things like making her own decisions about inside or outside play with a sweet little “nope”.

I asked if she’d taken her to the bathroom with her and seen her tear a sheet of tissue as if to wipe. Yes, she had, my daughter answered but sweet little “ELB” wants nothing to do with the potty. I answered,

“She’s observing and strategizing.”

Last week I followed a flow chart created to help me understand the flow through the Book of Genesis. The kind of chart with lines dropping down interrupted by some action or moving forward through the process.

I began to imagine the route of a prayer, a prayer that cries out for resolution or a prayer that longs to be known by God.

Maybe the simple one that says thank you, another morning I am well or a more spontaneously overtaking one that comes from a song you join in the praise, you are so grateful to be connected with God.

I wondered about the delivery to the throne of God. Is Jesus able to one by one say, “Father, Lisa just had a moment, she’s afraid or Father, look now, she just got a glimpse of you and she’s better.”?

I wonder such things.

Why some prayers go unanswered.

Why some are answered when we’ve decided they weren’t heard. Why there must surely be some strategy in God’s timing that we are asked to trust.

To trust what we can’t see yet.

Last Sunday, the pastor talked about certainty and asked how long it had been since we remembered big ways in our lives that God showed up.

Remembered the answered prayers. I thought of a few.

My son was certain he would not pass the PT test at the military college his “knob” year. He’d been told sit-ups are a challenge for someone as tall as you, at least when they’re timed. A few people, the pastor who baptized him, his little boy Sunday school teacher and I prayed. God woke me up at 5 that morning, the test was scheduled soon after. I prayed. He passed and let me know in a text. He is now a Citadel and grad school graduate working for an accounting firm.

My daughter’s heart condition lingered several years, the place in her heart the surgeon called a little “stick of dynamite”was in a delicate place. Every procedure they simply couldn’t ablate it. Every procedure, we waited and prayed.

The final one, I was waiting with her sweet husband. The surgeon came out and as with each time before, he just couldn’t synchronize his instrument with the misfiring in her heart.

I nodded in acceptance as he told us he wasn’t giving up yet and then I walked away. I found the tiny chapel prayer space the size of a closet.

I cried and I prayed.

Shortly after, I sat with my son in law in acceptance and waiting. The surgeon returned and he told us so very explicitly the strategy he used and then he told us in words we could hold on to. He’d gone in to the location he knew from her records the malfunction occurred and he “schnockered” the area he told us.

He was optimistic.

A few years later, they are parents of a girl that wouldn’t have been advisable before. Her heart is well.

Other prayers have been unanswered and while they bring sorrow upon remembrance, I’ve accepted the response God chose was better based on His observation of the whole picture, the sovereign strategy I am not capable of understanding.

I just need to believe that my prayers are heard. I have some big ones these days.

I need to believe the incomprehensible truth that every single other person’s are heard in equal measure.

I need to believe because I have seen and I need to never doubt because of those things I did not see and won’t ever until eternity.

“Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.”
‭‭John‬ ‭20:29-31‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I pray you believe in new ways today.