Pretty Words like Hope

courage, Faith, praise, Prayer, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

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What if we saw it as more than a word on a pin, this word, “Hope”?

More than a trendy phrase about an anchor, more than the middle word in the group of three?

What if we knew this emotion called hope as more than a

word in passing, a vague and wavering optimism?

“Well, I hope so.” we say, as if hope is nothing more than a rare and pitiful possibility.

This morning, I rose to begin the day from the space on the carpet next to my bed.

Groggy and thankful for the ease of waking like clockwork without a clock.

My folded up, sleepy legs found their way to bending knees to rest in a downward pose to pray.

This morning, simply, “Jesus, help me today.”

I read from the Book of Hebrews, chapters 4 -6 and found the familiar phrase there.

Hope, an anchor for my soul, a catchy quote, trendy phrase.

I colored in my margin, drew an anchor, a sky, an ocean and a moon. Mornings like this, and my Bible are gifts.

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Fingers blending dusty colored pastel, a delicate touch on the border of a fragile page, I thought of hope.

The middle child in the faith, hope, love family. Hope.

Reading the verses just before the one I knew by heart, understanding a little differently, more clearly and stronger today. This sweet little pretty word, what a mighty thing is hope.

I read the whole chapter, the whole book and saw hope, the way God longs for us to see…to see Him, our hope.

Saw it as certainty, read about histories and lineages of people who understood hope.

That hope is unchangeable.

Hope is God’s promise and we know he keeps his word.

I read that hope is earnest assurance and that we might sway, but hope cannot be moved once established.

Hope, I read, is a better thing for those God calls beloved.

So when God desired to show more convincingly to the heirs of the promise, the unchangeable character of His purpose, he guaranteed it with an oath so that by two unchangeable things, in which it is impossible for God to lie,we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement

to hold fast to the hope set before us. We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf.

Hope, the place of pausing to rest my seeking knees, my open heart every morning, to be anchored in certainty.

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee to Tell His Story.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/bit-light-youre-dark-day-tellhisstory/

Light and Momentary

courage, family, grace, Vulnerability

It was just a chance to notice.

The morning sunlight, perfectly landing on the floor

and easing up, in a warm thin shadow making light, causing me to stop.

To look towards the chest ‘o drawers, the one that held my mama’s clothes.

The light, just as perfect as possible, it invited my pause to remember.

For just a few minutes, that is all, I was happy to pause in the morning light.

My mood, softened by the brief glow landing in this corner.

The place that holds a piece from my mama’s house.

A momentary treasure, light and memorable.

Light and momentary, preparing me for heaven.

Maybe

courage, Faith, grace, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, wonder

Maybe, I thought, out walking in the late afternoon thickness of day…

Maybe, just consider it Lisa, there’s a change coming, a shift you’ve been seeking.

Maybe, you’ve been so offended by being overlooked, over corrected and over reacted to

that you’ve not thought to notice the possibility, the maybe of this time.

Maybe, I thought, out walking in the dull empty summer air, there’s a shift occurring,

one you’ve worked for

one you need.

Maybe.

Count it joy, not maybe; but surely…these various trials of my faith are producing something that can’t be shaken.

James 1:2

Deciding Quietly

courage, Faith, grace, praise, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

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The sun made the narrow spaces between the blinds a warm golden hue this morning.

Allowing time for an easy morning, I looked towards the window and considered getting up, raising the blinds and taking a picture.

Decided against it because I knew it wasn’t the sunlight in its beginning of day that my mind embraced.

It was the light edged in shadow that kept me there under cool sheets and swift, swirl of fan, for moments longer than usual.

Looking towards the day in a way that spoke softly for my submission, as if knowing I’d grown weary of demands.

Barely lit bedroom, a haven and my morning less of dread…the light beginning to filter through, quietly without forcing response from me.

Slowly and with calm intention, I move on towards the morning.

I begin with note to self, calling it a commitment.

Certain of its timing, I write clearly, my penmanship better than it’s been, under today’s date and encircle it in a bold bracket.

Stop looking at what others are doing. Do what your heart tells you is right, is true, is good.

Then, moved to study God’s word, today’s passages in read through my Bible plan.

And because God is God, a few words were planted there to be discovered, to be certain of the quiet wisdom of today.

Let a woman learn quietly with all submissiveness.

I Timothy 2:11

Linking up my five minutes of Friday here:

Needing Rain

courage, grace, praise, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

IMG_0086_kindlephoto-6706827 If you were raised the way I was raised, you’d notice the building of dark clouds.

You’d not be surprised by the dark, shifting clouds or the storms through the night with just short breaks in between.

You’d remember the stillness, the way someone would walk towards the porch to check the sky.

Then, turn to say, “We need the rain.”

And maybe after sitting and waiting, someone else would say,

“We need the rain.”

There’d be no dispute, not a word from us cousins. The corn, the butterbeans, the low, wide tobacco leaves needed the rain.

Last week I felt the air become heavy and unexpectedly dark.

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There was a complaint, a correction, a criticism. I was caught in surprise of storm. Suspicious of its source.

There was a feeling of being thrown into the storm with no one noticing my abandonment, my inability to swim.

It was work stuff; yet, it was hard.

It wasn’t family storm, not my heart; but it was hard.

Darkness of word, of reactions and of lack of reaction.

I suppose it was needed. Like rain on an early summer evening.

The kind of storm that causes me to get quiet, it’s storming.

I needed the storms.

I needed to be courageous in a way that caught uncaring people by surprise.

I needed to be humble when my pride and hurt feelings hindered my moving forward.

I needed to take a chance, to take the next step and to be uncertain of reaction, but decide to accept it as truth, as needed.

To hush the insecurities and doubts.

I needed the dark clouds, were it not for storm, I’d not understand, truly understand my need.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

Romans 8:28

Sometimes God brings storms and we’re thinking okay, I’ll understand the purpose of this heavy rain, this earth shaking thunder or this frighteningly unexpected bolt of fearful lightening…eventually, we think.

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We need the rain. We’re better for the storm.

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee at http://jenniferdukeslee.com/tell-his-story/

Persisting Upside Down

courage, Faith, grace, praise, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Persistently writing

The last page of the soft white journal.

Moleskin supple, barely visible lines, a simple book.

Typically covering three months or so, I have stacks of these now.

The last page this morning, waiting for my grey swirly lead lines.

There are quiet rumblings trying to fade of a hard week with hard words, harder choices. It’s work though, and work complained about does nothing more than frustrate you in the explanation. So, I let it be, let Saturday come, let Friday meetings and confrontations go.

And journal thankful things and read the Psalms, prepare for yoga instead of parade.

I turn the page, preparing to close the book.

To see it’s been upside down all this time, the empty space for my name is blank; the little space next to the question of its worth, blank too.

I smile. It’s worth a bunch to me, I think.

Another journal filled with my early morning heart’s pondering.

I rise before the dawn and cry for help; I wait for your words.

Psalm 119: 147

Thoughts purposeful sometimes, other times shallow or habitual murmuring.

Revelations, realizations and regrets.

Progress, backwards steps, teeters and totters.

Yet, I persist. Turn the page, begin again, right side up.

Or upside down, funny the relevance of this tiny oops.

I light a pretty candle and choose music, then not.

Preferring the sound of beagle snores and nothing else.

I write 200 or so more words, remembering my promise to myself to begin and…

Write for as long as you feel the words come clearly and when you don’t feel them, can’t find them, stop.

Persist, though.

There are true and brave stories to be told in the colors of my Bible, in the words of my Psalms.

Seeing, Being Seen

courage, Faith, grace, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Several times a day I might notice a bird

or the sky or like yesterday,

the most amazing magnolia bloom I could barely see just above the fence top.

I’ll pause and just get quiet, my eyes and my soul resting.

Sometimes though, I just rush about frustrated or pitiful, one extreme or the other, angst and longing.

Then I notice the sky. The vastness of empty space, yet fullness of God and I’m better then, more myself with God.

I’m always better in the moment of pausing to look towards sky.

I think maybe it’s my age the way I intentionally, perhaps accidentally notice God.

Maybe I am “the crazy bird lady” my daughter loves to call me.

Or maybe not, because she notices too now, and tells me about her red bird appearing outside the tall, curtain drawn farmhouse windows

following her as she moves from room to room to front porch.

Or maybe, just maybe I’m in the presence of God more clearly, not because He hasn’t been there all along, but

Because I’m okay with Him seeing me.

I’m not as often compelled to hide from the God who sees me.

Waiting to be seen, asking where are you?

Lisa, why try to hide?

You’re seen, you’re known, you’re loved despite your attempts to hide. You’re not hidden in the overgrowth, no need for that, listen, look…I’m here.

And they heard the sound of the Lord God, walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees in the garden. But, the Lord called…where are you?

Genesis 3:8

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee to tell His story.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/needed-begin-loving-actual-life/

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/tell-his-story/

Permission to Pray

courage, Faith, grace, Prayer, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I prayed for her. The mama on the phone named Coretta, the one who called twice.

Crying in a way unable to stop, hopeless over her situation, her tears were heavy, her voice muffled in the strain.

Job loss, homeless, four children, the shelter is full, ours and the others.

I suggested one thing, then another, said “Let me call here. Let me try this.” She’d call me tomorrow she said, “We’ll figure out one more night.”

And I was tired.

It was late; but, I wanted her to hold on.

I told her, ” I’m going to pray for you tonight, is that okay?”

Then I sat, unable to forget her sad and defeated cry and I wondered when it happened…when did I find it necessary to ask permission to pray?

And why I never thought to grab the agency card, pay for one night somewhere…a bed for her children.

Then, help her with finding a shelter tomorrow.

It’s perplexing to me, what God would have me do and the hesitant person I’ve become. Why I question my interactions so much lately.

Why I feel so unlike myself, a woman who believes, is assured?

Longing to ask, God. How would you have me speak? Why do I silence my faith in rooms filled with those who don’t believe your Word?

How is it that, I’m surprised by the contrast of my convictions with those I’d thought read and carried your same book, used it as guide?

If I could, I’d ask you, face to face, God. I’d look up towards you, Lord, as you’re looking down towards my suddenly tentative, timid and tender heart…What is it, Lord that you’d have me to say? Because my heart says speak loudly, but lovingly. Speak unapologetically, for the times are causing much fear, much alarm, much need for a God who is longing for our return to him…longing for our belief.

When did skepticism and cautionary hesitancy overshadow my longing to be known as a believer, a woman of faith?

When did my faith get so muffled, so obscure, so unwelcome, and so much contrasted that I’m shocked by my subtle denial and longing more than anything to be known as set apart.

Longing to be standing up straight and tall, content and confident, not afraid to set my face like flint?

Tonight, I’ll pray for Coretta and again tomorrow. I’ll hope to meet her, hope to give beds and a roof to her family. I’ll pray for her each time I remember her tears.There will be no question in my voice, the voice God will hear, the one He knows, no permission necessary.

I will pray. God will hear. Regardless of the others in the room.

Because I fear you Lord, I pray. Because I believe you, revere you, trust you, and thank you,

I pray.

But the Lord God helps me;
therefore I have not been disgraced;
therefore I have set my face like a flint,
and I know that I shall not be put to shame.

Isaiah 50:7

Some things mean something

courage, Faith, family, praise, rest, Trust, Uncategorized

When something means something to you

You long to share, but keep it close for the sake of its significance.

A bird lifted its wings quickly and flew in a straight path as I opened the door to leave. Frustrated, deciding to take a break, hear a song, circle a block…just let it be for a bit. I head towards my car, having nowhere to go.

Then, it lands, the bird on the fence, sitting pretty. Facing me, its torso the most vibrant flash of red. I stopped, hoped to see again, waited as it rustled in the tree.

A red bird, I paused and felt empowered…Keep at it, Lisa. Continue, you will be okay. “Never settle for less than your worth.” my mama said.

I remembered her strength.

And just now, tonight as I decided to wait for God’s plan, things are falling into place.

I hear from two more friends as I’m listening via an email to advice from “writers of hope”.

I notice the words in the corner of my new book for notes, just above the place I jotted, “God has been in this all along, the people, the places, the tough and desperate times…the times of believing.”

With God, all things are possible. Matthew 19:26, it said in the corner of my notebook.

I open the door to the back porch. The dog is barking. I call him, he lingers. He waits, as if to beckon. I wait, then ease out into the early darkness of night, look up and see the moon with the fuzzy border.

Again, my mama. Again, God.

Reminding me to be brave.

believe

courage, Faith, grace, praise, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

When your day starts with questioning

you move forward with uncertainty.

Then you do the new thing you said you would.

You stretch your mind, your limbs, your lungs, breathing deeply and with intention…in a room filled with strangers.

And you join them in murmurs of “Namaste”, but, you’re thinking, ” Selah…It is well.”

Because the prayer you prayed when instructed to breathe, to release the heavy load you’re holding

was “Believe, believe, believe…”

You decide to believe and the late morning brings warmth in the voice of a friend.

Soft, slow, southern and sensual…she said, “Oh, Lisa…I’ve just read your letter…I’d love to see you.”

Her voice, slow like slight breeze in an open field, drawn out, long pauses in between.

Later, thinking of the day, I left the usual route.

Decided to walk through high grass and turned to notice the sway of tree, the glimmer of leaves.

Beauty catching my eye, settled.

The sunlight decisive in it’s place of setting shadows.

It is well. Believe.

Blessed is she who believed that there would be fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord. Luke 1:45

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