contentment

The Book of Luke – 24 Days of Jesus, an Advent Experience

Abuse Survivor, Advent, bravery, Christmas, confidence, contentment, daughters, doubt, Faith, Forgiveness, freedom, hope, memoir, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Teaching, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

Lessons for the Learned

At some point I must have been set on remembering the sermon.

The margin of my Bible is marked with my interpretations and revelations from a passage.

“And the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭4:17-19‬ ‭ESV‬‬

The Spirit of the Lord is on me and if you believe in His birth, His death, His resurrection, on you, too.

God has given us all opportunities to proclaim the good news to the poor.

To proclaim liberty to those without purpose, those who are trapped in the bondage of sin, shame, doubt, fear, unbelief. To remind myself and others of the gracious rescue from these places.

To those who are blind, we like Jesus are to help them see the light of the gospel, also known as “good news”.

We need reminding, all distracted at times and unable to see, our eyes covered by the blinders of this crazy world.

We are here now to tell our stories.

Our stories of why we believe, why we know we’re better believing than not.

It’s that simple. Life before Jesus was not what life with Jesus is and will be.

Why we’re tempted not to believe at times and why we know we can’t return to that road or jump from that dangerous place again, taking advantage of the grace that will catch us in our fall.

We’ve heard the Word, we read the accounts and like the crowd Luke wrote about, we are astounded by all the healing, we are now learned ones, for we have experienced salvation and healing and we continue to grow, we continue to be open to His lessons.

Jesus was born to bring us salvation.

For thirty some years he was a healer, a teacher, a speaker through parables, readable lessons.

May I never stop learning, ever progressing towards Him, to be like Jesus. May I embrace the opportunities in front of me to more purposefully tell.

Most of all, may what is said about me be more consistently true, more about Jesus than about me.

I want to leave a legacy.

“and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith— that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death,”

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭3:9-10‬ ‭ESV‬‬

My surrender is my story.

The Book of Luke – 24 Days of Jesus, an Advent Experience

Advent, Angels, Art, Children, contentment, courage, daughters, family, hope, kindness, love, memoir, mercy, Motherhood, painting, praise, Prayer, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

It Matters to Me

Luke, Chapter 3 is evidence of the writer’s intellect, I decide. Luke, a physician explored and recorded the lineage of Jesus. It would be easy to avoid the 15 verses with challenging names, like skipping over the Book of Leviticus on yet another plan to read through the Bible.

But, it is relevant, this lineage, this record of ancestry.

All the relatives of Joseph and thereby Jesus, the Son of God.

“the son of Enos, the son of Seth, the son of Adam, the son of God.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭3:38‬ ‭ESV‬‬

It matters to me, the humanity of Jesus, the lining up of people, just like the people lined up before me.

Makes me reflect on our genetics and our similarities, the ones before me, making straight my way through the memories of their own ways.

“Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall become straight, and the rough places shall become level ways,”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭3:5‬ ‭ESV‬‬

My grandma made the best of paths she may have thought might be straight, she made it through the crooked places and leveled her life with scripture and determination, she always made a way.

I told my “Aunt Boo” that I felt my grandma with me and in me. I’ve sold hand-painted Christmas cards this year.

I remembered her carefully designing her velvety Christmas ornaments, covered in pieces and parts of old jewelry.

She used the long stick pins and carefully created elaborate pieces. I see her now.

She’s in the room they added on, the double bed filled up the room and there was space just wide enough for her beside it. She retreated to this place, I was invited in to sit quietly on the bed.

A dresser was covered with sectioned flat containers, sparkly, metallic, extravagant and antique. She stood for hours, her tiny frame steady, her hands working constantly. No words spoken and her mouth set just so, her tongue tipped up toward the curve of her lip, peeking through, she worked with her mouth “set just right”.

She was industrious. She placed the ornaments in big flat boxes and with her little memorandum pad, she loaded her car and she made her deliveries.

I am forever impacted by her choice to pursue something so joyful, to do something that was fully and completely her choice to do.

It matters to me, this characteristic of my grandmother in me.

I’ve been selling my art again.

Luke reminds us that everything is purposeful and everything matters.

In the first verses of Chapter 3, John begins to tell of a new concept, repentance and forgiveness of sins. Isaiah the prophet had written of John, a voice that would come from the wilderness. The same John who “jumped” in his mother, Elizabeth’s womb while in the room with Mary, pregnant with Jesus, this John would baptize many and baptize Jesus.

And Jesus heard his father, God say, “you are my son”.

“Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heavens were opened, and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form, like a dove; and a voice came from heaven, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.””

‭‭Luke‬ ‭3:21-22‬ ‭ESV‬‬

It’s doubtful I’ll ever be a theologian, doubtful I’ll return to any further education.

Life and God are my teachers now.

Life, the enormity of it around me, exposure to wisdom, thoughts, experiences. God helps me see the relevance of Him in it all.

I’ve just finished reading an article I’ll read again and maybe more. The wisdom of a man over why his ancestry is significant, why clarity matters, why approaching things hidden or unexplored is something we all should do.

It is never too late.

Two gentlemen, both guys who are wise and caring and ones I respect, pointed me in the direction of this piece.

Bruce Springsteen

We are all individuals formed by those who made us. Our heredity is more than physical, it is experiential.

It is a brave choice to consider the weaving of our ways, to look at them and say, oh, I see now this horrible or wonderful thing, how it made me, me.

Some might wonder what these thoughts have to do with Christmas. I get that.

I don’t know why; but, I said a long series of “thank you, Gods” beside my bed today. It began and then just became a spontaneous building of more and more. God kept up the conversation, brought to memory all of my before to say hey, look at now!

This life I have, this life I know.

It is absolutely a life of hope. My lineage and my life experiences at one time convinced me it could never be so.

Like Luke details the way the 30 year old Jesus came to be, it is similar for you and me.

The breath of heaven that brought Jesus is the same breath of God that created you and me.

On purpose and with purpose that life causes us to sometimes lose. I told someone yesterday I wish I hadn’t returned to art so late in life.

One of my thank yous this morning was that I am here and I have art and life and so much more.

I have hope.

Advent, the days before Christmas, these are the days to have hope.

It matters to me that my grandma chose hope, that she became independent in her pursuit of making beautiful things, that she was about my age when she began this thing that kept her captivated, made her feel significant, brought joy to so many.

It matters to me that I got to see what I didn’t understand as hope back then, but understand it now.

She prepared the way for me. I pray I’m preparing the way for my own daughter, my son and all the other children yet to come.

Luke, a Book about the life of Jesus. I’m no seminarian, I’m just sharing what he’s bringing to light …24 Days of Jesus, my Advent Experience.

Hope.

Believing

Abuse Survivor, Advent, Christmas, contentment, courage, freedom, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder, writing

I smiled when I saw the few seconds of the scene, the little boy who didn’t believe and then

Believed again.

The child who was intrigued enough to board the big train and then challenged with whether he’d stay on board. “The Polar Express”, I love its many lessons story!

Satan has been using some things to silence my story. I can barely conjure up the magnificence of my hopeful plan of before. Circumstances and choices make disbelief make more sense than believing.

Blinders have been placed on my eyes and my heart seems a little muffled to the miraculous now.

I’ve noticed I’m no longer noticing like before.

Restore my ability to see you, Lord.

I wrote it down, I believe God loves it when I pray this way,

He knows it’s really me.

Restore the woman filled with wonder, filled with hope, filled with ideas and the idea that possibly it could be.

Set my feet back to following and my footfall a happy little bounce with intention.

This Lord, is my request.

Like the little boy who believed, help my unbelief. The child almost yanked from the top of the perilously traveling train, show me the same.

The same joy that comes from believing, the same confirmation that the seemingly crazy trip’s worth traveling.

To arrive back at the place of wonder and to find a treasure like the bell he thought he’d lost in his pocket.

Yes, show me that believing makes all the difference!

Be my conductor, Heavenly Father.

Get me back to the safest destination, the place of believing!

“And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.””

‭‭Luke‬ ‭1:45‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Yes, I believe!

Changes in Just a Moment

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Homeless, Prayer, Serving, Vulnerability

When I told her I realized clearly a name for the feeling, I believe she knew, was surprised but she knew. I told her I’d been doing all I could with very little coming back in return.

I couldn’t name the feeling, fatigue like emotional drudgery.

But, on the way to work this morning, God named my feeling. Things happen a lot of times, you, alone in your car. Clarity comes.

I felt useless.

Now for no other reason than to chronicle the way it all was so momentary, I record it here.

We’re close to broke. I’ve been asking for money like the boy crying wolf.

All the helpers and helping places are asking now.

I understand the conclusion drawn that we don’t really need it, it’s just time to ask.

I had a letter to write, the year-end appeal. I was circling round our homeless shelter, looking for angles to capture in a photo.

Our need is great. Our hopes are high.

An image that would convey:

We need you now.

I stopped in to the shelter, barged in, worried again over budget. I realized my tone was less than helpful.

I thought I bet she wished I hadn’t stopped in.

Her demeanor was slightly solemn, her posture different in a tired sort of surrender.

I listened. She was worried about someone she loves. I had no words. I felt compelled to hold her.

We hugged.

I returned to my desk to see a message left for me.

The Foundation funding representative calling, asked that I return the call.

I dialed the number then regretted not pulling out the application, anticipating clarity needed, budgetary explanation.

Instead, we’re fully funded, are you available for a pre-press conference?

My legs felt it first, the emotion and a sizzle-like current ran up and back down and I felt my eyes water, I felt the fullness.

The fullness of feeling useless, doing all I could with a less than favorable, feeling ignored return.

I called her, shared that the reviewers of the grant found her to be “phenomenal”.

She paused. I listened, her joy.

“Oh, I’m so full.”

And I added, it is not me alone.

Remembering the way the reviewers of the grant on our site visit were entranced by her sharing and her speaking from her heart about our work, I told her, it’s you, it’s us together that has made this program so strong.

Then I added. Well, I thank God for making me able to write about our work and for making you able to talk so beautifully and passionately about it.

I’m lying down this evening feeling significantly surprised by my usefulness.

If you’d like to know about my work, visit Mental Health America Aiken County.

If you’re compelled to do so, please donate.

We really do need you now.

Providence

Abuse Survivor, bravery, Children, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, family, grace, memoir, Peace, praise, Prayer, surrender, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

I suppose I should surely call myself with confidence, a writer.

Just because of the way I love words, the way God made me to love words.

I wake up with new plans and consider a bullet list Thanksgiving blog.

This little garland left unhung and it was cute in Target, but I’m not sure if it was right for any place in my home. I’ll let it lay, it can go undone.

Again, I’m thinking of the list, the thankful today list. I could fill several pages and yet, not include it all.

Instead, I love the idea of three, so three it shall be.

Thank you, God, you are patient and unconditionally present and tolerant of me and you help others also to be.

Thank you for the way you got me here, to a place of morning sunshine landing on my succulents as I disciplined myself to know you more in the years before and how now, like today it’s an unexplainable joy, my morning space I rush towards in my morning return.

Thank you, God, for your word. When I said to myself I want to know more about providence, you sent me straight to Job, Job who cried out to the God who “molded me like clay” and found himself in a place I only know as well but on a much smaller scale, saying I trust you God, I do because you and only you know me so well.

Lists and exchanges of thanks should surely rule the day.

For me, I prayed I’d be an encourager that those around me would know my love, would surely see my love in a grander more consistent way, only possible if I lean into and stay leaning into You.

Happy Thanksgiving my readers who comment just when I need it, unbeknownst to you, perhaps.

That’s God who nudged you towards encouraging me.

That’s providence.

Thank you, God

“You gave me life and showed me kindness, and in your providence watched over my spirit.”

‭‭Job‬ ‭10:12‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Thank you for all you’ve brought me, brought me through to be used to honor you!

Grace and Calling or No

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, fear, grace, memoir, mercy, obedience, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, surrender, Teaching, Uncategorized, writing

I couldn’t guess if I tried how many bloggers are out there with words floating all about.

Occasional assertions like a “calling” to write or an unwavering assurance or this I must do. I must write.

Like so many other things, we’ve a sense of celebrity to it, we read what the successful ones publish, we lean in and listen, we get enthused with the possibilities or we slink away when the reality of luck and timing and perseverance cause us to crash.

I heard today that about 85% of people have ideas, believe their life contains a story that could be a book.

Yesterday, I came home from church and I read the words of Paul. I considered writing only momentarily. I rested instead and considered giving up my blog, print all of my favorite posts first and stack the stack of stories atop my desk and eventually pack away in a drawer.

But, here I am. I’ve returned.

I changed my tagline because someone skilled in blog traffic and “search speak” assessed my site last week.

Why not, I thought and then like an optimistic student hoping for a B, I was deflated, my report came back with the number 72, a D!

I added grace to my tagline, really just shuffled the letters in the line. Least I could do, the only thing I understand how to do.

I’m learning. I need to be open to the shifts, the sways, the steady steps forward. I need to grow.

Yesterday, about the time it is now, I sat alone at home with the dog at my feet.

The sun was warming the edge of the sofa and my Bible on the arm.

Today was different. 4:30 in the afternoon and it was dark and grey.

Raining, cold.

A writing task abandoned, I felt so little like a writer. Feels unlikely, this thing I thought I might do. So, I’m pushing back.

I tidied up my space, let the next tutorial pause a quarter way in.

Two sheets of lined legal pad are filled with potentially captivating titles, subtitles, notes and asterisks.

I put it away and stopped and thought again, you’ll soon be 60, you’ve been talking about this and refusing to give it up since almost three years ago.

I’ve got notes from church yesterday rewritten twice in three places today.

Most likely I’ll be writing them again.

It’s not trying harder. It’s surrender.

Share your story, yes.

Who you were and who you are.

But, mostly notice and follow what the Holy Spirit shows and tells you.

There is something in me that is greater than me.

I didn’t nap yesterday, I read Romans 8 instead.

I have no idea if a book is in me. I thought I surely knew before.

But, I never surrendered the outcome, the beginning nor the end.

I never asked God directly.

I never, in fact even asked at all.

God, is it your will that I write?

A book?

A book that I already gave a title, named and numbered the chapters, and planned the dedication?

I’m asking now.

And I’m not trying as hard.

I promise.

I surrender my words either stacked up in sheets or bound together in a book, my name across the bottom.

I pray you will help me, God, teach me to be content either way.

“Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.”

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:11‬ ‭ESV‬‬

It occurred to me yesterday what a joy my blog is to me. I thought of the feeling when thoughts become words just descriptively fine and I’ve cherished the kind words in comments.

I thought of how sweet it’s been realizing thus far it has been all me.

I paused with the idea of what might be. What might be bolder, sweeter, truer when it’s not just me; but, the power, the power of the Holy Spirit in and through me.

Coming through my words, surrendered for his purpose.

“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.”

‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:28‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I’m curious and excited now, surrendered to his purpose.

We shall see.

Grace and More

Abuse Survivor, Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, freedom, grace, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

Grace is a lot of things.

It’s big rescue and big salvation and big last chance chances when we are caught before our falls.

It comes when we decide to think of ourselves less than He says we truly are.

It asks that we see others as Jesus sees them.

Like he sees us.

Like he saw the woman with the expensive oil who wasn’t showing off her efforts. It wasn’t her plan to defy the others.

She just wanted to love Jesus when all around Him was persecution, ridicule, doubt and the question of His intent and the day of deciding His death.

She was focused on worship and she poured out her worship freely.

In unashamed and unexpected worship, she gave what she could to Jesus.

She gave what she had.

When the people standing around ranted over her waste of what in their opinion could have been sold.

Jesus accepted her gift, her worship, her grace towards Him and He used it for all the others to know the power of giving, the power of humble and creative opportunities to give and receive grace.

Jesus told them all to leave her alone, that this would be her legacy, this choice she made to be bold, to give what she had and to trust God with the rest.

“And truly, I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.””

‭‭Mark‬ ‭14:9‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Now thousands of years later, this passage is in my Bible marked with red.

For me to really remember grace for all it is, not just a sweet and easy sounding word.

Help me to do what I can when I can, to allow interruptions, to ignore human reasoning of my ways. To acknowledge where you place me as places you will use me, to not hide away in my introvert ways.

To do what honors God, to simply pour out what I have and leave it there.

Help me to act accordingly as if I’m listening closely to hear my Father say.

Oh, to hear Him say to me, the same!

She hath done what she could.

Mark 14:8

Forgive me, Lord, when I make less than amazing your grace, when I am prone to hiding away and when I forget to walk in it, exhibit it, simplify it, this timeless and phenomenal gift, your grace. Because of your mercy, I pray in Jesus name, Amen

Jesus, I Believe

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, fear, Peace, praise, Prayer, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

Craziest thing ever!  My boot camp instructor told me I needed to get right!

Last night I was grouchy and told her so. I dragged myself to boot camp, told the trainer  I’m here and I know I’ll feel better afterward, so, yeah I’m here, that’s all.

If I moved I’d feel better, if I left the house I’d be less worried. My workout was intentional, I was not there for fun and games, I just wanted her to know.  Not in the mood for conversation, there to unravel my day, let my blood up its flow, let go the things needed to let go.

She responded with her usual firm motivationally cocky type retort, not allowing me to be pouty and then firmly added, “Get right with God!”

And it was odd because we don’t talk about Jesus at boot camp, she and the others if I’m honest only vaguely know of my faith, only vaguely know I believe.

So, I took it as important, her reply so important for me to hear, to adhere. I was tired of waiting for things to happen in my life; beginning to believe some things will never change and some breakthroughs have gone another direction, not coming through for me anymore.  Work stuff, work worries.

Before I even read from two different perspectives about Martha, I was wondering already this morning about how and whether I believe. Do I believe for others; but, not for me?

Like Martha, maybe,  the sister of Mary and of Lazarus. It occurs to me now,  she must’ve been the middle child, the one who kept an eye out for discord, the one who anticipated family drama, the one who got all concerned and withdrawn when there seemed to an issue. She was perpetually on the edge of coming unhinged.

But, she didn’t see it, I don’t believe. She saw herself as the keeper of control, she was one who believed in Jesus yet made it her role to be on guard against trouble, to be prepared when it came.

Jesus compared her to her sister, Mary.

He’d come to visit them and Martha was busy cleaning, preparing, ready to put on a show. She was frustrated when he noticed Mary. He told her to notice too. Mary sat in silence, she waited unworried, just wanted to be with Jesus, somehow knew nothing more was expected.  Her lack of activity, of anxiety, of frantic expectation, led Jesus to tell Martha, I’m sorry to tell you but her choice is “the better”.

I imagine Martha knew her patterns, like me, sporadic in her change, but determined to let them go.

Slowly breaking the habit of questioning everything and keeping in control.

Some time passed after Jesus sat with them in their home and they beckoned him to return, this time to perform a miracle, their brother was dead.

They believed through Jesus he could live.

Do you believe this? Jesus    John 11:26

When Martha settled into the unlikelihood her brother would be revived, she answered Jesus’ question with a yes that was sort of a but or an even though…I guess, still.

I imagine her demeanor was calm, her resignation confirming her fear that became acceptance. He would be healed and he would live, her brother would see heaven.

Belief is sometimes just acceptance and with acceptance, there is always a hint of sullen. Acceptance isn’t usually accompanied by joy;  just an okay but I really hoped it could be better.  It’s a settling for less than we believed and I believe it’s because of what we believe about ourselves.

I wonder if Martha remembered the time she spent sweeping up the kitchen instead of sitting beside her sister and Jesus. If, because of her cleaning compulsions and her less than enthusiastic worship, she had no right to believe in miracles.

 Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.  But even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you.”  John 11:21-22

Jesus had other ideas.

Ideas to reveal His Father’s glory.  He kept no record of the ways she viewed herself as wrong.

I do this sometimes, sell myself short on God’s glory and greatness.  I decide in comparison to others, I’m not quite so worthy.  Like Martha, I believe in good for others, not so much for me.

And I surely believe in heaven but sometimes not so much at all, do I believe in now.

Intention, felt wrong when I wrote it, like a word that didn’t belong with the others: rest and attentiveness.

But, the day is almost done and intention has finished the sentence, is the conclusion to this morning’s story.

Believing with the intention of trusting.

Now I see.  Now I’m right in my thinking.

 Jesus responded, “Didn’t I tell you that you would see God’s glory if you believe?”  John 11: 40 NLT

 

Right with you…God.

 Father, thank you for hearing me.   John 11:41 NLT

Jesus, I believe.

 

 

 

 

Have This Hope

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, freedom, grace, memoir, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, writing

Sometimes, I’ll pray,

Jesus, be my editor.

I want to be observant of Him, my life and my art and words, purveyors of Him.

I want to cause others to consider my present hope in light of my previous trauma.

No day is the same as any single day before. Our days might be framed and arranged with similarities, coffee, and quiet and an awareness of a bird waking up outside your window, but it’s never just the same.

Our days, never the same, the exact time the birds begin to sing, their type and from whence they have flown.

The words I write, the way I consider my schedule, I’m slow and achy or optimistic or something in the middle.

I repeated a tough time yesterday; but, only in my retelling of its story.

Very clear, the memory I shared to express a time of a prayer, a plea.

It was pleasant to tell of an unpleasant time, as if an accidental reminder to myself, you got through that, you are strong.

All is well.

Just the reframing of a recollection we’d never aim to repeat.

All of our regrets, our remorse, and resentment over wrongs done us or by us.

We need only repeat them as a reference, a reference of how different we are, how decidedly committed to reframing our trials in light of knowing God saw us then and sees us now.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.”

‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭29:11‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Pressing on, not repeating old stories, only reading the chapters of our lives, rewritten, edited by God.

Prompted to write on word “repeat”, remembering times I’ve been brought through, times I don’t ever have to repeat but will recall them in ways to carry on.

Read other thoughts on “repeat” here:  http://fiveminutefriday.com/2018/11/01/fmf-link-up-repeat/

31 Days, Freely – Close

Abuse Survivor, Angels, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, fear, freedom, grace, memoir, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, rest, Stillness, Teaching, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

Life and God are in constant intersection.

Places you find yourself standing other than you planned and in locations you’ve become accustomed to, you are close to God, when you take stock of forgetting and finding again, what is there.

You meet a little lady by mistake who is tiny like your grandma, neat as a pin like her and she smiles and forgives you for ringing her doorbell, going to the wrong address, she tells you she wishes you’d stop back by.

And you think, now if that’s not God, I have no idea what it is.

To see your grandma when you needed her kind of gentle assurance, yes, that was God!

Being close to God, being where He wants me to be and doing what He wants me to do.

With my being mama, wife, executive, writer, painter, friend and follower.

These are things I will know clearly and eventually, adjustments like shadows of color to accentuate an angel’s waist or taking away a showy word to be simple, succinct.

It is work. It’s okay, though. God is in it.

Never an anxious seeking, always a contented watching unexpectedly yet ever hopeful wait.

I heard the geese and thought “Here they come.”, the acknowledgment of my mama, her words when she heard them.

I slowed my steps as the V shape turned away and then smiled and watched as they turned back my way.

It was a small thing, to see geese fly over and remember my mama.

Remember God’s pattern.

I forget and I forge ahead making mental and pencil note of things to try, challenges I should continue and I take some off the list, cross through their name, thick leaded takeaway, giving myself permission to let that one go.

To keep taking small, deliberate steps and to know that when I jump in to pressuring myself to join in, to hurry up and finish or to feel afraid I might not catch up,

That’s anxiety talking, that’s fear and I feel it in the place that the counselor noticed my trauma liked to dwell.

Noticing now, let that go,

That will not serve you well.

Be still.

You are close now, close to what God wants you to know.

He is close.

We are His work.

“The works of his hands are faithful and just; all his precepts are trustworthy; they are established forever and ever, to be performed with faithfulness and uprightness.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭111:7-8‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Closing out 31 Days with some sermon notes from myself:

Write bravely.

Write from small sweet experiences.

Try not to veer back to pitiful.

Recognize when you do.

Write what you’ve been avoiding.

Follow through.

Notice God’s answers in your day.

Pay attention, you’ll know clearly, what to say, what to paint, what to write and

Where to go.

God is everywhere. Don’t forget to notice.