Dreams and mornings

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

Colt and I sat for a bit this morning as the darkness lingered in the rain.  His usual sauntering towards the door could wait I suppose, as if he knew.

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Some thoughts, memories, random comments spoken yesterday found their way out last night.

Out from the places in my mind that apparently were unsatisfied with the time I devoted to pondering.

That’s where dreams come from, I’ve decided, good, bad, scary or beautifully outlandish.

They’re just bits of thoughts, really.

Not seen through to the end, tied up neatly, put away.

I dream quite grandly.  I notice explicitly, don’t just discard my thoughts, that I put them aside for later.

This morning, I unraveled the night’s inventory of yesterday’s profound incompleteness of thoughts.

And, the big dog rested his head on the edge of his bed, heaved a satisfied sigh and waited there.

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I notice most everything, ponder things longer than most.

It’s a gift and a burden. A gift, because I care deeply.

A burden because my mind sometimes hoards  what should be let go, the irrelevant and the irrational.

Holds onto a thought, a conversation and then goes to bed with

“What if?

So, I rose early on my day off.  Saw my daughter who went to bed exhausted and achy as bright as sunshine and crisp as blue sky, heading out into rainy darkness to bless little  4-year olds.

Thankful she was not sick and I smiled at the thought of bride.

Just a little blip of a bad and worrisome dream….not reality,

Yay for a pretty wedding in less than three months!

And my son was asleep, his last day at home. He had not left with his guitar on his back without saying goodbye.

Another dream, not so much a “blip”.

More like a marathon on Netflix, an engrossing drama, looking everywhere for something, all vivid characters and colors.

Dreams that make you thrilled for morning.

Mornings mean clarity and gratitude.

Best things about it to me along with coffee and Bible.

Big dog patiently waiting as I scribble, read, thank.

Until we begin the day, noticing.

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Noticing all day, all the goods, turning the not

Mid-night scattered thoughts on brevity and prayer

courage, Faith, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized

 

Ins-1142717395536186534_654751538There’s nothing like 3:00 a.m. logic.

Oh, to be so simply satiated in thoughts, words and actions just hours earlier.

Darkest of dark times. Yet, clear as glass.

What a rambling of text, my attempt to convey hope, my writing earlier.

Thinking I’d present a different perspective on faith.

One sentence, maybe two would have sufficed, been quite the gist of it all.

I had prayed earlier in the day for my friend. Walking down the hallway, I remembered…”you need to pray for Melanie, what we’re hoping for will come true for her.”

Believing what we've asked

Believing what we’ve asked

So, I did. I prayed,

Lord, I’m not quite sure of what all is wrong. What needs to be healed. But, Lord please let this be a time of good  news, of healing for Mel.”

Went to sleep then…to be woken by thoughts.

Troubled by the discombobulated collection of words written earlier.

Knowing simplicity would suffice. Less is more. No need to circle around and round pounding my rambling words.

I wondered then what God thinks of us when we pray. I wonder if he, engaged like a reader waiting for new words sometimes longs for brevity.

After all, He knows our thoughts and concerns. He just desires we lay them there at His feet and then turn to rest, trust and wait.

To rise with clarity.

To walk as visuals, examples of simple utterance of need already known.

Today, my read through plan of the Bible led me to Matthew 8.

A collection of the stories of requests for healing, of the healed.

A leper who prayed. A Centurion who prayed for lowly servant. A man praying for his mother-in-law. The busy one longing to follow Jesus, worried over who’d have to be left behind. The many possessed by demons, turning towards a good God.

The fearful in midst of storm, calmed by His presence alone.

I have three friends I’ve not seen in many years. One had a scare last year with her heart. Another’s sweet husband has cancer. And Mel, she’s tough as nails and determined.

And we all are praying and we all are believing.

The Lord has heard my plea. The Lord accepts my prayer. Psalm 6:9

In the morning, when I rise, give me Jesus.

In the morning, when I rise, give me Jesus.

 

 

 

Balloons, Anchors, Hope and Faith

courage, Faith, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, wonder

Walking outside with dogs, hoping for a glimpse of tangerine sunrise and I’m happy to turn back, look up and get crescent moon instead. It’s my favorite moon.

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Makes me hopeful for things happening in places I can’t see yet.

Makes me believe, stay faithful.

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for.

Hebrews 11:1

Inspires me not to give up.

Like faith, believing the things I see now.

Things that caught me by surprise.

Hoping for the fullness not seen yet.

Holding onto hope like thumb and index squeezing pretty ribbons trailing balloons.

You may have heard the verse. It’s become the trendy quote, the go-to for hope. The definition of hope, an anchor for your soul.

 We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. Hebrews 6:19

There’s strength in this verse. The idea of being firmly secure, able to drift only just so far…our souls in a place of safety, anchored, sure to stay put. That’s a good feeling; but, hope’s something more to me.

Something a little lighter, a little brighter, even whimsical.

Like pretty balloons gathered together for celebration.

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Imagine if we all went through our days balloons tied to our wrists or held gingerly as we stopped to acknowledge a friend.

Think of your day, appointments handled, issues resolved, periwinkle colored balloon hovering above your desk.

What joy it would be to turn upon waking and see it there, tied to nightstand drawer pull, moving ever so slightly as you begin your day.

Most of all think of the countenance upon our faces as we paused, intermittently to  look towards balloon.

Well, that for me is hope.

It’s looking up towards heaven reminded that hope’s still there.

It’s the crescent moon, crisp and bright against morning sky.

It’s expecting sullen sky and turning back towards home to see pearly white clouds filtering light.

It’s being reminded of what we’ve held in our hand all along.

Hope and faith, balloons and anchors

 

Linking up with others who Tell His Story

 

Seeking, Walking, Seeing

courage, Faith, grace, Prayer, rest, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder

I can certainly see why people may find faith, trust and surrender to God as futile activities. All require the giving up of control, of engagement in outcome and of the opportunity to collaborate outcomes for our own lives.

Still, I begin my day with God. Some days, though, I’m only midway through and have forgotten the strength of my time.

I falter, seeking again to see things unclear. Just a few minutes every morning, storing up reserves of wisdom, most likely needed for recall by noon. Some days I’m more disciplined, more connected. Some not.

A day can change directions in an instant when doubt, fear, and insecurities take the wheel.

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I’ve begun to read through the Bible this year. I’m up to Chapter 6 of Genesis.  Already, I’m understanding Eve and her choice to eat from the forbidden tree in a new way. I can empathize with Eve, the one responsible for changing the plans of God

What a frighteningly honest admission.

The one who caused our viscious cycle of honoring God only to question God. The first of us,  responsible for all of man, of woman, incapable of resting in the place of not knowing, the place of trust.

Eve was tricked, she rationalized her behavior…how can it be wrong for me to know good from evil, to know what is to come? The words of the serpent made sense. Sometimes make sense to me.

For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” Genesis 3:5
Today started strong for me as far as my faith. An engaging lesson, a beautiful song and my pastor’s convicting message.
After lunch though, my mind drifted, couldn’t find rest.  I wondered about this, doubted that.
Moving through afternoon with nothing more than mindless chores towards evening, I decided at dusk to walk.
Reluctantly moving my thoughts, my feet, my mood,  seeking God nevertheless.  My walks are seeking walks. Whether I intend them  to be or not.
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The sky was blue this evening.  Not blue like ocean, bright tiles or happy eyes on freckled face child. The blue was of winter on a Sunday marking the end of the day on the cusp of hopeful next.
I turned to see the sunset from various spots on my path. And it happened. I paused in God’s nearness.
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Then walked on towards home, towards the unknowns of tomorrow.

Its good and its evil, perhaps.

My life in God’s hands.

Content in the reminding.

O’ Lord, in the morning you hear my voice… Psalm 5:3

 

Putting it Together

Children, courage, family, Motherhood

I decided to buy a puzzle.

Thought of us working together, something new, unexpected.

Calm, but frustratingly challenged to find “that” piece.

It’s a unified task, a togetherness challenge.

It’s like-minded thinking…”Why on earth did we start this?” and  “Oh, here I found your piece!”

A different game night for us. My idea, they expected Scrabble.

1000 piece puzzle of lip balm...no idea. I thought they were candies

1000 piece puzzle of lip balm…no idea. I thought they were candies

We had dinner, cleared the table.

They indulged me. My daughter and her fiancee. My son and his girlfriend.

Then stayed there, circled ’round, elbow to elbow, our searching eyes scanning expanse of bright jigsaw.

Flipped the pieces, separated ends and corners.

And together, we did something new.

Something different.

Together on New Year’s Day

Putting it together, together.

Nothing better than that.

 

 

 

Bibles and Pantsuits

courage, Faith, family, praise, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized
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My new Bible, a Christmas gift from Benji and Heather

Every Sunday, she’d ask. “How many daily Bible readers did we have today?”  The person who kept the Sunday School record would respond. I waited, scanning the encircled group of class members for expressions as she responded.

“This is the one we thing you all should do…how else will you know how to live?”

For a very long time I rejected her advice, her exhortation felt too much like demand.

Puffed up and independent minded, I reminded myself that I would not concede to pressure. I would not be made to feel inadequate or a sinner by not following one person’s ideas or rules.

My grandma, “Bama” had varicose veins. Big, thick purple bulges held down by thick rubber-like pantyhose that went up above her knees.

She wanted to go to church; but, felt unwelcome. She had to wear slacks, sharp little pantsuits.

She stopped attending church after a bit.

Stopped after judgemental glances from other women dressed in pastel colored dresses with hummingbird pins on their scarves, matching purse in one hand, tightly clenched smiles and fingers wrapped around their Bibles.

Bama, dressed in crisp pantsuit, sharp and fashionable, yet scorned.

I wear pants to church most Sundays, it’s okay, feels right to me.

Not for Bama though, back then.

The preacher, continued on admonishing errant ways of ladies in pants and other behaviors that most likely would lead to burning in hell.

I never understood why wearing pants was wrong back then. My grandmother must have been hurt. She never let it show.

I was.

I don’t recall her ever complaining. She just stayed home.

A preacher’s daughter unwelcome in the church

Yet, she always had her Bible, her little Gideon New Testament  in her purse and King James version beside her bed.

I remember her nightly ritual.

I’ve seen my name in the margins of her Bible.

I cherish the image of dimly lit bedroom, me sometimes there beside her, pretending to sleep,  under thick quilts.

Sleeping with Bama on Friday nights,  careful not to brush against her legs.

Quiet, sweet, calm nights with Bama.

Lying next to her, before sleep Bible reading.

Obedience to God, not people.

I’m a daily Bible reader now. It’s not an obedient-like requirement or a response to curtail retribution or chastisement.

It’s not an avoidance of punishment or hardship; rather, for me an act of expectant submission.

Anticipation of revelation and comfort.

God, revealing new things, His words exhorting me to continue or comforting me in my missteps, misfortune.

I know that to know God is to read His word.

Know that choosing to live with God’s word in my heart and mind is the most certain way to see clearly my life as God designed.

So, I cherish my Bible. I cherish my mornings,  marking in the margins of my Bible, like Bama.

Morning by morning he awakens;  He awakens my ear to hear.

Isaiah 50: 4

 

Following your Star, Unwrapping your Gift

Children, courage, family, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, wonder
Advent Thoughts

Advent Thoughts

On today, the day before the eve of Christmas Eve, I started with a note from my daughter, reminding me of Christmas coming…”feel better” it said and so I committed to feel better.

And I did.  Some little things happened to help in the betterment of day. Gifts were wrapped, special notes written and gifts received.

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Beautifully gifted day

I prayed twice and then read about the star that was followed by the wise men.

Thought of them differently, not of bearded ancient figures with long flowing robes walking through the desert gazing upward.

I thought of them as wise people, intelligent, wise men.

It occurred to me then that the star must have been so spectacularly compelling they couldn’t imagine not seeking to know more.

Couldn’t imagine turning back, abandoning their souls’ fulfillment.

Wise men, yet still seeking to know more, to experience fullness as their feet followed, guided by brilliant star.

So, I jotted quickly, so as not to forget the thought.

Hesitant to record my thoughts because they felt strong like epiphany.

To write in my journal might lessen the power of my thoughts.

But, I wrote a note to self:

“What’s your star?  Where is the place God has for you?  What gifts in store?  What is the work God would have you achieve, knows you’re both capable of and long for?

If my feet followed my heart led by Jesus, knowing spectacular like a bright star awaits, I wonder where I’d be.

What gifts are waiting for my unwrapping?

Is it writing?

Painting?

Maybe the joy of leading by example, so that others move towards their calling, their joyous star. 

Yesterday and Today

courage, Faith, praise, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, wonder

Yesterday started with daylight only sparsely present.  I walked outside and noticed the clouds shifting in a swooping motion.

It was supposed to be more chilly, I thought. My daughter said, “It hasn’t moved through yet. It’s coming.”

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And it did, we had dinner after shopping later, the wind cold and the sky filling with stars above a fuzzy peace sunset.

I remembered earlier in the day, I had sat aside the Advent Card for Day 20, noticing the image so much like stars, clouds, waiting for change.

Little triangle shapes like Christmas trees planted for next year’s home.

little trees growing

little trees growing

Thinking of how nervous and anxious I was on Thursday for what I’d be doing Friday,  speaking in front a large group, cameras, prominent people…but I was okay, it was okay.

Yesterday was good. Good and unexpected things made me smile. There was some bad, some annoying and out of nowhere mean, sharp words.

A good day, but a long one.

Yesterday becoming today.

Yesterday was good. Today will be too.

We’re closer to Christmas, closer to Christ.photo-35_kindlephoto-6872653

Come thou long expected Jesus.

 But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.

She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”

Matthew 1:20-21

Angel moon and stars

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

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The moon tonight had an angelic halo type haze circled around.

Many years ago, we’d made it back home from my mama’s funeral and had collapsed back into the house.

Worn, weary and drained.

Grief has a way of doing that.

You go through the motions of the ceremonial last gathering and when you’re done…you’re really done and emptied of most everything.

But, on that night almost six years ago,  my nephew called.

Told us all,  “Go outside, look at the moon…grandma Bette is looking down.”

And we did, my daughter and I, walked out into the cold January night and turned towards heaven to see the moon.

To stay there in that place, moonlit bright, shiny and fuzzy with glow as we felt mama, Grandma Bette looking down.

Tonight, the moon looked the same and I paused, not sorrowful or longing for backward steps; instead moving on as I drove.

Secure in the presence of moon, of mama.

Weaving on roads with few other people out, a cool night, stars all around and a crescent moon with a soft glow.

Making my way back home to son, daughter, husband and dogs…the glow of Christmas to greet me, the colors of Jesus filling the rooms.

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I thought of the stars again,  imagining how brightly they must have shone on the night our Savior was born, unobstructed by city light, by busy life.

I thought of shepherds following one star.

I wondered if they were convinced or unsure.

Doubted whether to continue on…following a star.

I wondered if their only hope was hope enough, to glance upward to stay on course, continuing on because of the one they were seeking.

The long expected one to guide us when star shine faded.

… they went on their way, and the star they had seen when it rose went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was.

When they saw the star, they were overjoyed.

Matthew 2:9-10

Overjoyed by where the star led them.

Like me, maybe my nephew, my daughter, nieces, brothers and sister.  We look towards the moon that leads us to remember, its aura, like an angel with halo.

We pause to lift our faces towards heaven.

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Finding light, calm and bright

courage, Faith, grace, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

What an irony that I drove back country roads to church feeling empowered by God, yet surrounded by ominous gray sky.

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Most mornings, after some time of quiet, I’m rejuvenated and stirred in a way that increases my faith.  Depending on the day, I may walk in trust all day, or may not even leave the house before I feel less trusting.  Hope is like the air inside a brightly colored balloon, it’s what keeps our faces tilted towards God.

Imagine the hopelessness of Mary about to give birth and of Joseph, her companion and support on this journey of believing only because God said it would be accomplished…as they were turned away again and again…no room for you.

Yet, I believe on that night of seeking a place to rest, they were silent in their search for shelter, all was calm and all was bright.

Despite the dark unknown.

Advent, Day 15

Advent, Day 15

Such is a life of faith,  of seeking to be close to God. It’s darkness and it’s light, calm and sometimes bright.

It’s mainly journeying with the heart and mindset of one seeking a place to feel safe, sheltered and at peace.

And looking for light, creating light.

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