Only Jesus

Art, bravery, doubt, Faith, freedom, grace, hope, memoir, Peace, Redemption, testimony, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

I’ve been trying to remember what prompted me to seek a passage yesterday morning. Monday is a “grandma day” and I rarely open my Bible, only read a few lines of a devotional or sit still in the dim, sipping warm coffee.

I found the favorite passage, the one about the water’s healing properties. I read again the words of Jesus recorded by John and I realized quickly, I’ve read this all wrong for so very long.

The scene is a place called Bethesda. I envision a cool place near water, those who are unwell languishing in shaded areas established like safe but sad waiting rooms.

Throngs of people, maybe some accompanied by friends or family, men and women, I suppose even children who have been enslaved to some sort of malady and have come to immerse themselves in the water of a powerful pool.

One man, paralyzed and lying on what must have been a soiled and worn out mat, had been there for thirty-eight years.

Jesus laid his eyes on him and walked over.

He asked him “Do you want to be healed?” (John 5:6 ESV)

Jesus knew he’d been there a very long time. If I were the disabled man, I wonder what my reaction would have been.

I began to wonder many things about this man yesterday.

Had no one tried to help him into the healing pool?

Was there no friend or family to stop by and check on him, offer to ask the others, “Please let him cut in line, he’s very desperate and he’s losing hope.”?

Or had this man, incapable for almost four decades accepted his fate, decided this is just my lot in life?

Most of Monday, my mind kept going back to this passage. I was certain I’d read it correctly (at last) for a good reason.

My grandchildren were happy yesterday. They’re loving and laid back and my grandson and I eased through the day.

We walked a long way, we found “treasures” and we talked about walking the safe way unless mommy or daddy are here.

We turned toward home instead of the long clay road because I told him, we may be too tired to conquer that hill.

He answered, “This way…okay, G’Ma?”

Almost home, just three curves and a downhill twist, he asked,

“G’ma carry me?” and I anchored him against my chest as he silently laid his cheek near the curve of my shoulder.

I thought of the passage, the one I’d misquoted and misread until that morning.

I’d always thought the disabled man had stepped into the water, that Jesus assisted him.

But, he didn’t.

He rose and walked with no need to be immersed in the crowded pool.

He did as Jesus told him. He stood and walked forward.

Speculation from others came, lots of accusations about the wrong choices on the Sabbath.

The man had no idea who Jesus was, he only knew he tried to walk as instructed and he was walking.

That’s when the two words came standing in my daughter’s kitchen…

“Only Jesus”

I pondered less why the man had to wait so long, why all the others pushed past him selfishly, why no one in his family tried to help him.

(Maybe they did, it’s just not recorded)

I considered this man’s healing unexpectedly and miraculously by Jesus. I read on and noticed what seems to be a serious tone in the voice of Jesus…

“See, you are well! Sin no more, that nothing worse may happen to you.” (John 5:14 ESV)

I thought again, “only Jesus”.

Smiled to myself how I’d read this passage without this powerful reminder for so very long.

A reminder that Jesus sees us in ways no one else is capable of,

And he appears.

That what is needed for our healing might be unique and meaningful in a way no human can offer.

Only Jesus.

And so, we can let go the longing for others to see us in the crowd and be attentive, even considerate, aware of our languishing in hurts that linger and threaten to destroy.

To be the ones who help us walk again in our healing.

We can understand that’s not their responsibility.

We can allow ourselves to understand peacefully and with vulnerability see that our only true healer is Jesus…

Only Jesus.

Healing comes when we answer “Yes.” to the question

“Do you want to healed?” (John 5:6b ESV)

Maybe we are aware of all the ways we secretly decide we’re not able, worthy or even reluctant to live a life that’s marked by healing.

We answer God in our prayers just as soon as we rise from our knees with reasons “why not” through our thoughts and our choices.

The man on the mat is so relatable.

“The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, and while I am going another steps down before me.”
‭‭John‬ ‭5‬:‭7‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Jesus listens and tells him to “Get up.”

I suppose no one had ever suggested such an impossible step,

only Jesus.

We are so intimately known by Jesus. It took such an extraordinary request to cause this man to try what he was certain he could not do. He’d been lying there watching the others get well and had believed…

Healing is for others not me.

Then, he bravely agreed to try.

He tried and he walked away from the mat on the ground. He stood and he walked.

Freely, listening to the suggestion of Jesus.

“Only Jesus”, I pray these two words linger with me in new ways, maybe a sticky note on the dash of my car, a canvas marked and inspired by the realization, new words in the margin of page 890 in my Bible.

You’re welcome to remember it too.

What are you waiting for to rise from your mat and go forward in ways only possible because of only Jesus?

Maybe, like me, you’ve been reading certain stories all wrong,

all along.

Here’s the passage that feels like an invitation to embrace healing (for the first time, again, or differently).

“After this there was a feast of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. Now there is in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate a pool, in Aramaic called Bethesda, which has five roofed colonnades. In these lay a multitude of invalids—blind, lame, and paralyzed.

One man was there who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had already been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be healed?”

The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, and while I am going another steps down before me.” Jesus said to him, “Get up, take up your bed, and walk.”

And at once the man was healed, and he took up his bed and walked. Now that day was the Sabbath. So the Jews said to the man who had been healed, “It is the Sabbath, and it is not lawful for you to take up your bed.”

But he answered them, “The man who healed me, that man said to me, ‘Take up your bed, and walk.’” They asked him, “Who is the man who said to you, ‘Take up your bed and walk’?”

Now the man who had been healed did not know who it was, for Jesus had withdrawn, as there was a crowd in the place.

Afterward Jesus found him in the temple and said to him, “See, you are well! Sin no more, that nothing worse may happen to you.”
‭‭

John‬ ‭5‬:‭1‬-‭3‬, ‭5‬-‭14‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Go in peace.

You are loved. Remember.

Come What May

aging, Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, creativity, doubt, Faith, hope, love, memoir, painting, patience, Peace, Redemption, rest, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom, wonder, writing

I’ve been looking over at the second trio of orchid blooms. I never expected it, I expected the failure that often comes with my orchids.

I shift the pot the plant is in, turning it away from the window. I wonder if the cold air from the vent is the reason the branch becomes more bent like it’s struggling no matter the pot’s position.

One evening I walked in the heavy humidity. Told myself give thirty minutes to intentional movement and maybe add some motivational listening.

I tried two podcasts. One was way too chipper, the other too chatty.

I decided to walk quietly.

I remembered words I heard earlier, a suggestion for focused prayer with a question.

So, I asked it.

“God, what is this season that I am currently in?”

I’ll tell you, I was barely three steps farther along and the answer came with no haggling or hindrance.

“Acceptance…This season is a season of acceptance for you.”

I walked on and remembered several days ago as I walked around the house, doing nothing and yet thinking about doing everything. “Malaise” comes to mind to describe it labeling myself lazy but what if

I’m just takin’ it easy, letting things rest?

Thoughts of my latest artwork, thoughts of the completed pieces leaning like sacred treasures against the wall in my tiny little “art room”.

I felt the affirmation rise up in my soul, the conviction to continue anyway.

“Come what may.” I told myself and then very quietly carried on with my “grandma day”.

Just a couple of hours later, an email was noticed. The word “beautiful” caused me slow.

“Your work is beautiful.” the sender said, “we’d like to feature you.”

Only a week or so prior, I’d sent a submission to be a featured artist in “What Women Create” a quarterly publication for artists, a stunning magazine with rich colors and pages weighted heavily.

I told only a couple of people and I never expressed my joy, only my surprise.

“Come what may.” I’d told myself earlier, an expression of settledness in what might happen one way or the other.

I walked on that recent evening and thought about acceptance and began to see why God may have spoken this quality as the one I must understand more clearly in this, my season.

I wondered if I accept the disappointments in my life as sort of “Oh sure, it’s always this way” acceptance and I continue on in that way of expectancy.

More comfortable accepting defeat or delay and treating good things that come my way as

A surprise or a fluke?

When I look back over my life, specifically as a writer and an artist and one who shares both, I have to be honest with myself.

I’m joyous over a ribbon that’s labeled “Best in Show”, over words that describe my artwork as “beautiful” and over kind and loving expressions to me about me and my art.

Still, I often don’t truly believe those blessings were chosen for me. I somehow convince myself it was some sort of accident.

Awareness is the first step towards new thinking, acknowledgement is the key to open those doors widely waiting and questioning why I’ve yet to enter in.

This may not make sense to you.

You may be one who is thrilled by the things you worked hard to complete or compete for actually coming true.

Or maybe you do understand and if so, I share these rambling thoughts and this realization for you.

Do you expect struggle?

Do you anticipate things not coming together?

Do you only half-heartedly commit because not “getting in” feels better than being excluded.

Every success begins with a decision and that decision is more than just trying, it is the decision to believe God has good things for you.

Not only are there good things for us; but, God actually planned them in advance (and is patiently waiting for our acceptance?).

“For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.”
‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭2‬:‭10‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Why do we “accept the bad with the good” more than we believe that in reverse? Or let my mama’s expression, “It’s all in it, Lisa.” be a bandaid over a hurt instead of a healing balm?

My recent collection of paintings, “Not Yet Seen” have resonated for many, but I almost didn’t paint them. I told myself “I love them but they’re different for me, no one has seen this type work from me, so many other artists already do this, etc.”

(Available here: https://thescoutedstudio.com/collections/art )

The woeful voice in my head, “If I release these and none of them sell, I’ll be disappointed again, I’ll need to acknowledge they weren’t as special as I thought.”

But, I painted twelve, not eleven as first planned and now there are just six remaining.

“I’m so happy I followed my heart.” I told the gallery owner. She answered, “Me too.”

Maybe the seesaw of good and bad and the acceptance of both with equal energy amounts to just how well we “follow our hearts”

And that our hearts most importantly of all, be guarded by love, the love of God and acceptance of that love for us above all else.

“So above all, guard the affections of your heart, for they affect all that you are. Pay attention to the welfare of your innermost being, for from there flows the wellspring of life.”
‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭4‬:‭23‬ ‭TPT‬‬

Every morning I sit in the soft chair in the corner embraced by artwork on the wall behind me.

Often, I rise to begin my day, turn and pause and although there is an array of canvas and paper and color, my eyes land on love and I carry that all day.

Accepting more as truth every moment just how immensely God loves me.

Most importantly, accepting that more than any other thing, any doubt, any denial, any thing at all that will likely come my way today and tomorrow to detour me.

I’ll accept the better.

“Come what may.” I shall say

and when good comes I’ll believe it as truth, I will claim and accept the better.

Always hope,

Lisa (Anne)

Curiosity

Abuse Survivor, aging, courage, curiousity, doubt, Faith, hope, memoir, patience, Peace, Redemption, rest, Trust, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder

A beautiful oak ushered me on, a canopy over the country road. I wanted to slow. I wondered why I hadn’t noticed it before or why it comforted me so.

Curiosity is a cousin to wonder. A call to examine whatever captivates or corners you, an invitation, a leaning in with inquisition.

Even fascination.

What if we could be curious not over only beautiful things, but the bitter things too?

Curious over pain, over unpreparedness for hurt, over horrible things that shouldn’t have happened to us?

What if we accept that understanding may or may not ever come fully?

If we’d consider the possibility that curiosity is the entry into a continuum that initiates and begins a relationship with healing.

We may be the catalysts for our very own, deeply personal healing.

And if we will invite curiosity, we’ll begin a new search, one with maturity.

We may be able to see every perspective, not just our own.

We may be able to see through the eyes of the others involved, how pain of their own unintentionally resulted in ours.

We may, most importantly, stop berating ourselves why and decide,

Okay, now I see sort of why and I believe I’ll move on to “what now?”

And for the unexplainable horrible things?

Perhaps, we could consider embracing them rather than stubbornly and with great force, doing our best to erase them, the unerasable wounds.

Because as we embrace our hurt, we at last find we are worthy of being embraced by ourselves.

Every hard and wonderful thing can become embraceable rather than erased.

I drove on down the pretty morning road to approach the old white weathered house on the curve, the one I love to imagine made new.

The one flanked by a massive tree trunk and all its dying limbs now gray and fading away.

Why one oak thrives and the other got uprooted and thrown to the ground,

No way to know. No way at all.

Only to be curiously aware and to live with deep longing, a longing that is always known even if it lingers long.

“You know what I long for, Lord; you hear my every sigh.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭38‬:‭9‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Embrace all your longings to know. Be curious and thrive.

Writing and Striving

aging, Art, bravery, confidence, creativity, doubt, Faith, hope, memoir, mercy, Prayer, Redemption, Truth, Vulnerability, walking, wisdom, writing

After about an hour, I stopped.

I decided it will be better, be okay if I do this some other time, some other day.

A savvy and successful young advisor has been advising on many new ways to “get my art in front of people”.

I was honest with her, attributed it to my age,

“I can’t keep up with all of “the things.” She suggests a schedule, the better use of and acceptance of AI.

I tell myself and others and her,

I don’t want it done for me without “me”. Plus, I don’t want to become so automated that I lose not just my voice but my ability to write in my very own honest voice.

Last night, seemingly out of the blue, a blog post was commented on. The post was nearly seven years old. I felt nostalgic. I felt the feelings back then, a story about a bird on a porch.

I also noticed I don’t write nearly as freely as before. I believe it’s the pressure. It’s the distractions, it’s the chasing after people to convince them to visit my artist website, it’s a subtle cojoling of readers to buy my art so that I will feel good enough.

Here’s the post that represents who I want to get back to:

https://lisaannetindal.com/2017/11/30/flying-parallel/

I can be hard of myself, I know.

It’s true I’m older, more busy, have grown as an artist and so am otherwise engaged.

Still, I want to find that sweet and wise voice again. I believe I will.

I also believe I’ll have to do some deciding of what to keep and what to let go, decide whether to let the stories I carry be too important to be used as fodder for my “growth”.

Deciding doing all the things is less important than doing the genuine things.

I ramble.

I stopped striving earlier today, technology causing me to fret. I stopped striving even though I wanted to share my art.

Paintings on paper inspired by old hymns. They’re a little bit abstract, the colors of coal and indigo with just a hint of coral against angular figures.

I want others to be affected by them the way my emotions softened as the end result came through.

Still, I stopped frantically forcing a reel.

Told myself once and again.

Cease striving.

I joined the Substack bandwagon and I’m on the fence as to whether to stay on board.

I hope to resume writing here. It’s always felt like home.

Time will tell. I’ll wait and see.

For now, here’s my voice on Substack. I’d love to know what you think.

https://open.substack.com/pub/lisaannetindal2/p/seeing-more-clearly?r=1eavkz&utm_medium=ios

Thanks for following along on this circuitous trip of my life and my art, both redemptive stories.

Newfound Wonder

aging, Children, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, freedom, grace, Holy Spirit, memoir, patience, Peace, Redemption, rest, surrender, Vulnerability, wonder, writing

My noticing of feathers had faded until yesterday.

God is everywhere, don’t forget to notice.

One feather, not spectacular at all caught my eye, my face toward the ground.

A few weeks ago, a bird sat in the driveway. It was not tiny. It seemed paralyzed and I thought it must be my place to help it.

Soon, I discovered it was newborn. Large and loud birds began to appear. It was odd, the realization that they saw me as a threat.

I stood only a minute. I was captivated by their aggression and the way the newborn bird began to move away from me, recognizing because of the elders, I might be unsafe.

They were mockingbirds. That’s what they do, it’s the way of God and nature.

Yesterday, I reached for the feather and I wondered why I’d stopped considering my “finding feathers” as sacred as before.

I decided it’s because of my vision being too “far focused”, either looking into my future with uncertainty and fear or looking into my past with longing to no longer “go there”.

Rarely just in the moment.

So, the wonders that once captivated me with simple surprise were less sacred than before.

Sacred, a word that invited itself into my heart a couple of months ago, a word I’d rarely used to describe my life or my living and its contributions as quietly important.

Significant.

An ask came and with my yes came the assurance that this thing I’d been called to do was sacred.

Now, a memorable gift not to others only but to myself because of that realization.

That secretly and intentionally has led to my noticing wonderful things again.

I’m realizing just now that maybe yesterday was different, the joy in my heart when my grandson nodded yes, smiled and gave me a “high five”, the sincerity in my husband’s voice, the giddiness in my daughter’s voice and in her daughter’s brand new dancer’s pose, my son calling to tell me of a new thing he’ll be trying and the subtle excitement in his voice.

I remembered that yesterday and again this morning, I spoke a new prayer, pondered a word I’m newly fascinated over.

I consecrate this day to you, God.

Consecrate.

: dedicated to a sacred purpose

I consecrated my day to the Lord and I began to notice God again in the small ways.

“May we never lose our wonder…wide-eyed and mystified, may we be just like a child.”

Continue and believe.

You are loved.

Look for the wonder.

Pressing On

aging, confidence, contentment, courage, depression, doubt, Faith, hope, patience, Peace, Redemption, Trust, waiting, wonder

Press in.
Press on.

“Let us know; let us press on to know the Lord; his going out is sure as the dawn; he will come to us…”
‭‭Hosea‬ ‭6‬:‭3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

One of the surest ways to finding yourself back in what I call that “deep hole” of feeling aloneness or burn out over things you thought you could control and learned that you couldn’t is this…

Unexpressed emotions, specifically unexpressed disappointment.

You don’t have to tell anyone. Just tell God alone. You may be surprised over all you’ve been holding in either because it seems trivial or you believe you should’ve long let it go.

Sit in silence. Let your disappointments come to the surface. Be honest with God.

If tears come, let them.
Actually, be glad they did.

Don’t hide your disappointments, express them so they don’t keep you hidden.

Know yourself well and you’ll know God even more.

Pressing On

aging, confidence, contentment, courage, depression, doubt, Faith, hope, patience, Peace, Redemption, Trust, waiting, wonder

Press in.
Press on.

“Let us know; let us press on to know the Lord; his going out is sure as the dawn; he will come to us…”
‭‭Hosea‬ ‭6‬:‭3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Unexpressed emotions, specifically unexpressed disappointment.

You don’t have to tell anyone. Just tell God alone. You may be surprised over all you’ve been holding in either because it seems trivial or you believe you should’ve long let it go.

Sit in silence. Let your disappointments come to the surface. Be honest with God.

If tears come, let them.
Actually, be glad they did.

Don’t hide your disappointments, express them so they don’t keep you hidden.

Know yourself well and you’ll know God even more.

Nurture the Yes Ones

Abuse Survivor, aging, Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, hope, memoir, patience, Peace, Redemption, rest, self-portrait, Trust, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder

I have a t-shirt I rarely wear, never in public.

It’s not covered with paint, not a stain or a splatter. It’s not folded and stuffed in a drawer, it’s on a hanger.

Soft material, sort of beige and in a classy black font, one word “influencer”.

It was given to me, not a purchase. Someone thought it was a good fit.

I woke this morning recalling a beautiful dream and contrasting it alongside a question waiting to be responded to.

I journaled,

If I am quiet, I will be able to know which things and which people align with God’s will for my life.

In a way, I was wondering which influences in my life point to hope and which do not.

I asked God to help me see others clearly and to be able to know which influences are healthy and which are not.

I recognized in my soul that just as God sees the vulnerability and weakness of me, He sees it in others and those weaknesses in them cause them to not be a right now good influence on me.

So, I made a bullet list, not one that says “you don’t belong”, just a quiet inventory of those who contribute to my hope and those who don’t.

Not a cancel type thing, just a recognition, a nudge of clarity so that I don’t give up hope.

I have a bookmark in my Bible.

“Only speak words that make souls stronger.” Ann Voskamp

I’ve been trying to commit to this as a filter in all I speak, write or even show in my facial expression.

I’ve been set on being at peace so that I can bring peace into every room I enter.

So that through me, the light of Christ and the voice of hope is observed and considered,

Not simply tolerated.

And so, I quietly asked myself, right now which conversations and interactions are making me

Hopeful?

Which are contributing to

Doubt?

Which feels like a reverent posture of pure and humble wisdom.

The stance God desires.

When this journaling began this morning, this inventory of the “yes’s” I need to nurture

I had not opened my Bible.

I turned to today’s date in “Joy and Strength” and was led to Deuteronomy.

Wisdom that complemented my own words.

A warning for a woman like me, a people pleaser, a longing to belong “belonger”, a person who is easily manipulated in ways that seem innocent, that aren’t harmful, just not best.

“If a prophet or a dreamer of dreams arises among you and gives you a sign or a wonder, and the sign or wonder that he tells you comes to pass, and if he says, ‘Let us go after other gods,’ which you have not known, ‘and let us serve them,’

you shall not listen to the words of that prophet or that dreamer of dreams.

For the Lord your God is testing you, to know whether you love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul.”

‭‭Deuteronomy‬ ‭13‬:‭1‬-‭3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Get quiet with God. Silence the naysayers. Listen to the voices that speak hope and healing.

Those who softly warn you of your straying rather than string you along.

Those who love you, not just court you.

Nurture the “yes’s” while not discarding the “no’s”. Tend to the hope God planted inside your soul so that it becomes bigger than anything about you.

So that your offering is first and only…always

Hope.

In the Waning

Abuse Survivor, Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, hope, memoir, mercy, patience, Peace, Redemption, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom

Seconds after my dream was of lying in bed with a grandchild close by, my phone let me know I had a message.

I didn’t respond immediately because the dream was so real.

A small cardinal, bright red had flitted into the room and rested in the hollow place of my neck.

In my dream I got the attention of my granddaughter and then “ding!” I was awakened.

“For this reason the Lord is still waiting to show his favor to you so he can show you his marvelous love. He waits to be gracious to you….Overwhelmed with bliss are all who will entwine their hearts in him, waiting for him to help them.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30‬:‭18‬ ‭TPT‬‬

I answered the text, a long hoped for desire was decided would come true for a child today.

She’s been longing, hoping and waiting.

It’s exciting, the planned surprise!

A memory will be made.

There will be more “waited so long for” ones to come.

What have you longed for that’s already been given and yet, led you to long for something bigger or simply just left you wanting?

I sat in my “art room” with someone I love. What a mess, papers everywhere, started and stops and pauses, the evidence of where my art journey has come from and where gone

Is hoping to go.

Fascinated by a box full of artwork, I invited her to choose as many as she wanted.

We went through the stack together. I loved the ones she chose and the reasons she shared.

I told her of my certain belief that it’s God who kept me for art and kept it safely waiting for me to enjoy it, to share it as a part of my faith.

I have surely achieved more, been afforded more opportunities than I ever thought, given my history.

That’s why I know it’s true, I told her.

This is what God made me for.

What began with the timid tagline “quiet confidence” has become more brave.

Now, “always hope” coupled with my truth that “art offers hope”.

This morning, I wrote “hopeful” under the date, the gift of the cardinal on my pillow invited the tone longing to be expressed.

And I wrote myself a note that’s as true as my very breath.

Whatever and whomever (other than Jesus) you make your everything, your tipping point to measure worthless or worthiness, will continue to frustrate you with its dependability as far as not being enough.

So, wait for the one who is always and unchangingly enough. Be amazed by what comes with that commitment to will yourself to wait.

Success shifts.

People change.

Excitement is powerful and yet, it wanes. It’s supposed to.

God makes life this way so that we remember the only “enoughness” that never changes

Is Him, our Sovereign and often mysterious Maker.

Not since the world was made, Jacob was told in a dream of protection and little girls like me became women who waited even if imperfectly to recognize the providence, protection and promises of God…

has the gift of waiting been more an unchanging promise.

“Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land. For I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.”
‭‭Genesis‬ ‭28‬:‭15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

It took three trips in and out of the Art Center to retrieve and load my unsold paintings yesterday.

It was hot. They were heavy.

I won’t deny the emotion I fought to deny. It was difficult.

Still, it was beautiful, the experience and the exhibition.

“Believer”, “In Every Season”, “Mercy Remembers”, “Secure” were a few of the unsold pieces.

Now they’re safely waiting to be found.

“It’s all in it, Lisa” my mama

This artist journey is a teacher. I’m still like a child learning.

For this reason,

I have hope.

Always hope.

“But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭131‬:‭2‬ ‭ESV‬‬

(P.S. I’m meandering my way back to writing from both losing the desire and I believe a bit of ability. I hope you’ll be forgiving as I decide to learn to write again.)

Continue and believe.

Nevertheless, Worth Fighting For

Abuse Survivor, aging, Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, depression, doubt, eating disorder, Faith, grace, Holy Spirit, hope, memoir, painting, patience, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, Stillness, testimony, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom, wonder, writing

Disclaimer: There’s honest mention of eating disordered behaviors in this post. My intent is always, offer hope, not remind of harm. I pray so.

A large painting in progress leans against the fireplace. A practice of mine is to gaze over at an in progress piece or a finished one to decide if “I like what it says”.

This one began subdued and starkly pure in tones, white, ivory, subtle gold and the strong dark grey.

Now, it’s in a different in progress stage, almost done and more strong in color.

Years ago, I wrote a blog post chronicling an encounter with a man who was a splendid storyteller. He was very much a fan of the word “nevertheless”.

He shared his life story in incremental pauses introduced by the word.

I’ve since learned to love the word.

Last week, I stared at my unnamed painting. I knew its story was unfinished and I’d need to be intentional; nevertheless, not force its completion.

As I pondered the piece, a thought and words came.

“You’re worth fighting for, Lisa. You may have never heard those words, but you are and you’ve been ‘worth fighting for’ for all of your life.” Journal entry 5/10/24

So serious. Yes, I know.

Too serious to write about has been my thought.

Nevertheless, there was a new clarity in those never before uttered words.

And I saw the figures in the painting, two angelic and others onlooking in strength and love and that’s what I saw in the little brown-haired girl.

Me.

Her sweet and shy acceptance of that truth she’d made progress in believing but still had a ways to go,

To keep believing, nevertheless.

To keep believing so that she could overcome even more.

Not overcome to be bold or brave or boastful but because overcoming symbolized more.

Led and leads to more.

You are worth overcoming whatever is trying to overcome you.

A few weeks ago I had my first physical with all the bloodwork in several years. A new physician, one recommended by two trusted friends, asked me a question I’d not been asked in decades.

She asked “How is your eating disorder?”

And I sat quietly, I looked intently into her kind face and I answered.

“So good, I am doing so good. It’s been close to 35 years since I’ve had any of those patterns. I’m so glad.”

She nodded.

And waited and I added,

“But there was a moment a few weeks ago. I was home alone. I was feeling less than, feeling the rejection that comes sometimes when we are vulnerable in life and art. I was standing in my kitchen and thought, eat all the butter pecan ice cream and balance it with a bag of burgers and then just throw it all up.”

She listened.

And I added,

“But, I didn’t even though for a moment…not more, I could feel in control, I could punish myself and I could treat food like the love I felt was missing.”

I thanked her for asking. I meant it.

For believing I was worth the question.

And for the way the question led to the remembrance of this realization.

You’re worth fighting for.

What are you battling that requires the lasting embrace of this truth that God has never given up on you?

Don’t give up on yourself.

Get back in there and fight to be aligned with His sweet and sovereign idea of you.

Because I’m convinced this is the key that will unlock the door and that the big deadbolt that keeps the door barred to wellness in our bodies and souls is this…

Insecurity

Insecurity is the voice of your foe. Insecurity blocks the door. Insecurity says “You’re not worth fighting for.”

And insecurity hides in depression, loneliness, hides in a careless attitude about our unhealthy choices,

It hides in the belief that to advocate for oneself is prideful and not humble, is haughty, not meek.

Insecurity says God’s tired of me, tired of listening to me battle this thing,

Insecurity says maybe God doesn’t care anymore, why should I?

“As long as I live I’ll keep praying to him, for he stoops down to listen to my heart’s cry.”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭116‬:‭2‬ ‭TPT‬‬

I promise you, I’d not be sharing these words if God would’ve let me forget them by now.

Nevertheless, I sat in my morning spot, quiet and a little sullen and I heard deep in my soul, the words I’d never heard…

You’re worth fighting for, Lisa

And I answered, wrote him a note with a little girl tone, like a bedtime prayer.

“Thank you, God for helping me be stronger now, to decide I’m worth fighting for.”

You are too.

Believe it.

Continue and believe.

(Sermon to self always first because I stumble too. We all stumble in many ways and most every day.)

Surrender.

“The Lord preserves the simple; when I was brought low, he saved me.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭116‬:‭6‬ ‭ESV‬‬

And continues to save me.

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