doubt

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.

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.

31 Days, Freely – Brief

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, fear, freedom, grace, memoir, mercy, praise, Redemption, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, writing

No wonder I don’t want to leave, my morning time with God is always too brief.

This morning God told me,

Be brave.

It’s like He truly has me and He wants to keep me here, wants me to really know His keeping.

Yes, my morning time is too brief, I’m getting stronger at taking it longer into my day.

“Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭1:6‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Because I slept well and long, my meet the day prayer today was brief.

The feeling followed me down the hall, the regret of my request.

I asked God for “opportunities” and chastised myself no sooner than the thought became a conversation. Thinking,

Oh, sorry let me take that back…I’ve already had enough and haven’t done so well with them.

I barely made it to the Keurig before I changed my perspective.

I remembered my pattern.

God reminded me.

When I don’t write or when my writing is rejected, I immediately believe it has nothing to do with my skills or my content; but, everything with my worthiness.

Viciously sensitive and cyclical is the dilemma of my endeavor. I will return once again, maybe this afternoon to the old desk where words have been written, pieces and parts and starts, because I heard God this morning.

His reply was quick.

Five words,

You have to write bravely.

Pointing me away from the obligatory or copycat attempts to be one of those women who write and towards Him and yes, back to me.

Back to brave.

Back to the story that won’t let go.

“Now I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that what has happened to me has actually served to advance the gospel.”

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭1:12‬ ‭NIV‬‬

I bet you have a thing like that, a thing God told you was for you, the treasure you believed was there, slowly began to believe Him enough to dig it up.

Maybe you were afraid your treasure might not be treasured or that you’d be insufficient in your conveyance of just how glorious your God is for giving you the ability, the opportunity,

The unabashed bravery to pursue it!

Yeah, that’s the thing mostly. Something that God has told you is this huge a chance, a calling…oh, you don’t want to be responsible for it being any less.

I ramble, I get pitiful.

Forgive me. I’m surely no victim!

“Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own because Christ Jesus has made me his own.”

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭3:12‬ ‭ESV‬‬

What we see as hard, God sees as worthy of our doing.

What we see as unlikely, God sees as possible.

What we see as unexpected of our accomplishing, God sees as brave and intentional daily, momentous surrender.

We must be brave or we’ll never be fully seen, He will never be fully seen through us!

We must tell whole stories, not just give hints or glimpses of our rescue and redemption.

Otherwise, how will others know the story behind the things we say, the little expressions we throw out?

Afraid of telling the entirety of before.

One I’m prone to declare quite often…

Not me, but you Lord.

Jesus in me, showing through me, inviting others to have to the same hope of glory.

Glory, as in eternal life, a heavenly home.

I only hint at what that means, fully surrendered and cooperative, obedient to His plan.

I’ve no idea why this seems scary, why I must be brave.

It should come as easy as breathing and last way longer than my morning coffee.

It must surely be the most perplexing thing an uncertain or nonbeliever sees,

The meandering missteps of a believer. We’re confident and then we’re not or we’re complete and then complacent.

Yet, it’s that reality that tells our story, the recognition that we struggle, we’re not able on our own.

It’s also His mercy that sets our stumbling back on track, is kind in the giving grace for our once again, beginnings to see.

That we’re good and close to God every morning and day by day that closeness and that light go longer and brighter through our days and into our nights.

We press on even though the fear remains, we hear the voices of doubt saying stop…don’t go.

But, we hear the other.

We become good listeners and we hear The Father saying,

Bravely, bravely.

Now, go!

We get up again and we, with Him, bravely go!

Some time ago, a speaker suggested we read from beginning to end and again and again, the Book of Philippians.

My Bible is evidence of the difference it made, Paul’s personal expressions of the importance of humility, of loving Christ fully, being lights in our world, being brave communicators of the life and death of Jesus, of our lives changed because of His.

“Only let us hold true to what we have attained.”

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭3:16‬ ‭ESV‬‬

He’s not finished with me yet. Brandon Heath

31 Days, Freely – Pause

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, grace, memoir, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, writing

“Therefore the Lord waits to be gracious to you, and therefore he exalts himself to show mercy to you. For the Lord is a God of justice; blessed are all those who wait for him.”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30:18‬

My “life verse” is bordered before by caution and consequence of stubborn rushing ahead and after, with gracious reminder of what good comes from waiting, from being attentive to God.

“Ah, stubborn children,” declares the Lord, “who carry out a plan, but not mine…”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30:1‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Beware the place you arrive without pause. me

It wasn’t a life-changing yes or no. I’d done my research, asked for input from another.

A nominal purchase, was my pull towards jumping in to the opportunity because of the way it was marketed as invaluable, making possible my impossible success as a writer or

was it fear of missing chances,

not being able ever at all?

So, I paused. I gave the decision space and an honest self examination.

I chose not to make what was touted as essential, a sure path, success in my creative goals.

I let it be, left it alone.

God revealed another way, something I already own.

At my fingertips, the tools and in my thoughts, deeply planted abilities are gradually peeping through towards the light.

I was reminded in my pause.

Can’t believe sometimes, I continue this writing not much more than a journal. So many bloggers, I’m just one and my readership is oh, so small.

Yet, this daily thing is practice and it flows steady, gently from my daily morning pause.

Uncontrived.

I pause, I’m reminded.

Lord, help me not to flee frantically from the quiet place with you, the place where you keep me, continue to make me strong.

Keep me from the need for acclaim. Keep me in the quiet places where I hear you clearly saying, don’t go after that, I have equipped you, see me, see you. You are able, Lisa Anne; but, never, on your own. Let me lead you in the way you know so very well and let it show.

The way of quiet confidence, be willing.

Believe.

Because of mercy, Amen

“For thus said the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel, “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.” But you were unwilling,”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30:15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

31 Days, Freely – Ask

bravery, Children, courage, doubt, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

“Again I saw that under the sun the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, nor bread to the wise, nor riches to the intelligent, nor favor to those with knowledge, but time and chance happen to them all.”

‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭9:11‬ ‭ESV‬‬

We decided against the campus tour when we realized we’d most likely not make it in time.

It was the day after the unexpected, the unavoidable interruption of our day.

The journey and itinerary was wrought with unexpectedness, hurry, and hassle.

We were traveling for a special tradition, beyond excited in a nervous way, an unease that I thought was because of the getting to all the places on time, staying in step with regimented flow.

My son attends a military college. He is a Senior (thank you, Lord) and there would be the ring on his finger by the end of the day. Campus overwhelmed with scurrying excited and prideful parents for Parents Weekend.

We’d wear our fancy dresses, his sister and I, his escorts. He would wear full dress uniform. Two events in one day, we were on track it was gonna be stressful I told my husband, neither of us known for our “go with the flow”.

Pretty day and cool blue skies, we travel the back roads before the busy interstate, a well known path, an oft taken road.

I noticed in my approach, it seemed the driver was considering whether to go. The old sedan eased forward and rested and then, it seems the driver just decided to go.

I screamed, I believe. My foot found the brake and I made my car turn to try and get away, safely away and it pounded to a halt, stopped suddenly in the softness of a deep ditch. The front, the side, the tires splattered black and mangled. I sat and I cried, a scary moan of a cry.

I was afraid and because I couldn’t define just why, decide it’s the fear of missing my son’s big day and I cry and I can’t stop crying.

It seems an irrational thing but I feel irrational, I feel unable to define my fear over the intersection of possible loss of life and life.

My daughter on the same path but a different route finds us with her husband and they help us and it’s a discombobulated mess; but, we make it on through.

We are problem solvers, we make it work.

That’s how we roll!

We make the ceremony. We wear the fancy dresses, he gives us roses and we are good. We are fine.

We fill up the coastal weekend with other, good fancy breakfast, the ambience of dinner and the beach and the dog and shells, big unbroken shells we find.

Home now, I ask the question I asked before.

Why was she stopping, was she easing forward just to see for sure, or did she look once and not again and then, too late, her car crashes into my side?

Why was she tentative or was she distracted or was it as she told us, she never saw me at all?

I ask myself how and why and I’m curious how to measure a split second because it seems that could have made all the difference.

Whether she’d have waited

or continued on.

I hear the words to a song that remind me there’s no reason I shouldn’t now continue on.

It is entirely up to us whether we notice our chances and take them. It’s personal, after all, the believing we can or not believing at all. No one might ever know, whether we believe and take chances, whether we decide still to go, to try, to not simply say no.

Carry on calmly, LT.

There are more things to see, more places to be.

There are chances not to miss the way you have have missed them before, focus flitting towards future and making your every day present a blur.

Slow, steady now. You don’t have to be strong to be able. You don’t have to be wealthy to be willing.

Time and chance, pausing or going forward faithfully, these are encounters, opportunities and interchanges that will happen for us all.

Pace yourself, now.

Continue, carry on easily more aware.

Chance and time are in God’s hands.

Our hope endures.

Our hope endures the worst of conditions.

31 Days, Freely – Door

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, family, freedom, grace, memoir, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

“No human wisdom or understanding or plan can stand against the Lord.”

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭21:30‬ ‭NLT‬‬

It would be a miracle if I remember clearly my thought that I thought this morning.

Just for a second, I envisioned myself outside an old door.

Sitting on the steps, I was waiting, not pacing, relaxing rather than ranting.

Things happen when we don’t push down doors, when we focus on what we know now instead of what we feel we can’t go any longer not knowing it all.

When we wait and don’t jump to defend or give permission to turn and run, accept the unopened door, we lean in closely and like a surprise you’re not supposed to know is coming.

You can smile, you can know, good is on the other side, there’s hope behind the door.

31 Days, Freely – Why

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, fear, grace, Labradors, memoir, Redemption, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

In the work I do, I’ve learned the significance of the “why”.

A quiet, learned and soft-spoken gentleman spoke words almost ten years ago that I’ve used as my guide.

“Why should I care?”, the question potential donors are counting on my application and conversations to have an acceptable and compelling reply.

Yesterday, I began my day with my bare feet in the wet grass, the sunshine through moving clouds making pretty shadows on the green.

I welcomed the day with a big sweet dog that fours ago was an uncontrollable crazy question of why.

I returned home last night to a kitchen that wasn’t quite clean enough for me and a bed waiting to be made straight and ready for my rest.

(These are things I can control, small things of mine.)

In twelve hours of day there were interruptions, thoughtful and purposeful conversations and heaviness, heavy long and long drawn exchanges over loss by suicide and why.

I listened and did my best to lead, direct and redirect, knowing there’s no agenda here, there’s no real set of ground rules, no conversational etiquette, a support group for those bereaved by suicide.

There is only me, the timekeeper and host who sits sort of head of the table and gives space for the twelve or so separate unending respective and at times, remorseful whys.

So, I thought of small things before bed, still am just now.

Small things like a goofy rescue dog as crazy as I’ve ever known and all he now knows and has settled down for us and settled a whole lot of stuff for us.

Love him, love us.

I thought of the small mercies and grander mercies I’ve known.

I thought of my cousin’s timely call she’d considered an interruption and how I assured her, oh no!

How she prayed, prompted me to pray.

To pray giving thanks for small things in light of the others’ large, troubling and grievous things of others.

There’s a sweet, sweet song I love, the artist not so famous.

It has a happy little rhythm, a proclamation of sorts. Her voice, dancing lightly the lyrics of how the mountains before us will become plains.

“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.

‭‭Zechariah‬ ‭4:10‬ ‭NLT‬‬

The prophet Zechariah spoke these words, recorded for me, for us to know that greater things are still to come.

Not necessarily grander in terms of perfection from our perspective.

But, certainly grander. Grander, in light of your why. Grander, not so much grandeur or achievement or acclaim.

A grander view of God.

Oh, the God of small things.

Alli Rogers “Small Things”

Like tennis balls, wet grass and interruptions we at first are aggravated over and then allow.

And are reminded why, the small things that enlighten us, remind us, compel us to pray,

Saying, thanks. Yes, God, thanks.

Today, I’ll put figures and outcomes and measures together and I’ll combine knowledge with true stories as a way to describe the difference made by a home, a temporary place to transition, to believe in the possibility of better.

Work, life, God and why.

I don’t despise the days of small things.

The mountains before me are becoming gradual plains. I see it more clearly now and understand why I’m so much more certain.

God is with me, can be trusted, can make my big bad things bring small and sometimes even greater good.

Father, our God, let us not despise the day of small things.

Because of mercy, Amen

31 Days, Freely -Share

Abuse Survivor, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, freedom, grace, kindness, memoir, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Trust, Uncategorized, Unity, Vulnerability, writing

This morning I’ll make a little video, less than a minute or so of Michelle sharing the story of our shelter, Nurture Home.

She smiled when I described the time she’d done this before, the way she spoke so smoothly like honey and her pauses and the slight tilt as she spoke in a way sharing like a sweet, sweet song.

I love the storytelling part of my work, hands down my favorite part, I abhor the budget, can’t stand the asking for money.

The asking, the putting oneself out there always comes with the risk of rejection.

Last night, I ran risky past sundown because I left the gym without ever going in. Checking email, there it was, another no, another rejection in a string of three.

I cranked my car, turned down the radio and said ok, ok, adjust your sails, you’re not out here in this big sea all alone.

I drove back home and planted pansies for my grandma then ran real hard with good solid songs in my ear.

Running from the dark, I decided and posted on Instagram. A friend commented and I shared what was causing my darkness. Her reply was so sublime!

“Yet it was kind of you to share my trouble.”

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:14‬ ‭ESV‬‬

She understood, she was so very kind.

In this great big world, we all have a story and a story to tell. Today, it’s a work story I’ll tell; but, it’s my life story too.

God placed me in this position for a purpose.

I’m so glad he lets me help to change some stories and then to tell them, hear them, celebrate them too!

And later, I’ll let go of my ideas and ideals for my writing. I could stop altogether or I could continue more surrendered and less striving.

I could remember, let go and let God and like my mama said, be the passenger, let God drive the train.

Telling my story, His way, His time and place.

To God be the glory.

31 Days, Freely – Believe

Abuse Survivor, bravery, Children, confidence, contentment, courage, daughters, doubt, Faith, family, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, heaven, memoir, mercy, Motherhood, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder, writing

My mama never kept a journal or to my knowledge, wrote thoughts in a Bible.

So, I can’t say I “get that from my mama”.

She’d rather speak her truths to you, long conversations with time in between her phrases to let what she’d given you sink in. Look you in the eye or leave something with you and look away, walk away like that’s it, now I’m puttin’ a period there.

I believe every single thing she ever said.

Lots of times there was no acceptable reply, either she’d put me in my place or I had to just keep my mouth shut and let the sometimes unwelcome truth sink in.

She was resilient.

She believed in the possibility of everything working out for good despite so much wrong she endured.

She rarely quoted scripture, just paraphrased God’s truths in her own no holds barred way. Some would call it irreverent, her language was generous with cuss words.

I don’t think she aspired to write and I rarely recall a book in her lap, she’d rather be one with people, one with life.

She talked about books in a different way, telling me “turn the page, Lisa Anne.” when I kept mulling over some misdeed or misfortune.

She was quick to give her commentary on all that might be wrong or someone’s crazy choices or just mean motives.

She’d say “They’re not reading the right book or they’re not on the same page.”

I know she had a Bible. I know because it was mine and towards the end of her days I noticed it moved from the stack of old Southern Living magazines to the place in front of her where she’d fall asleep with the noise of Fox news.

I know she believed. I know she wanted us all, the four of us to always believe.

To pray, believing more often than beckoning or begging.

To smile, thinking how far we’ve all come and how far she and daddy got to see us go and grow.

Yesterday, I had an encounter with someone who has changed. A distant person who acknowledged her resistance towards relationship, she stopped by to give me a book.

She had a cold, I’d had to same one, I shared. She let me hug her and she hugged me back.

We walked out and I told her she’d reminded me of a new favorite word, “countenance”.

She was puzzled, said she had never heard it before and I told her I thought it might be biblical but that it’s such a beautiful word, a beautiful thing to see.

I explained that it means to me, your sweet soul is shining through, the change in expression showing so pretty on your face.

She thanked me twice, and more.

I thanked her for stopping by.

Thanking her and God now for reminding me of my mama.

Reminding me to choose believing.

Believing God is so very good.

“Behold, the hour is coming, indeed it has come, when you will be scattered, each to his own home, and will leave me alone. Yet I am not alone, for the Father is with me. I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.””

‭‭John‬ ‭16:32-33‬ ‭ESV‬‬

And to “live life today”, and then tomorrow live and believe again as you “turn the page”.

My mama’s stubborn resilience and God’s unwavering and believable peace and grace, I’m believing in both today.

31 Days, Freely – Afraid

bravery, confidence, courage, doubt, fear, Uncategorized

I see the cloud, I step in. I want to see Your glory like Moses did. Flashes of light and rolls of thunder. I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid. Jesus Culture

Somewhere between the nightstand and the hallway, I misplaced my glasses. I want to turn back and look again, my hand unable to find them in the dark before the day.

My husband is sleeping, I’ll get by without them. Stepping into the air of day, the sky is pink behind the pines and I squint hoping to get an unobstructed view.

It’s not possible. I long for a wide open space, an expanse of empty field.

Like the place of my childhood, room to roam, to run, to see for miles to come.

I look up and I am welcomed. Little cotton ball clouds all clustered and I can’t get enough and yet so much more, always more.

The slow shifting sky above me, more and more to see.

The morning after deciding I might never be enough, this rushing into making up for lost time on wasted days and jumping into every chance for fear there will be no more!

A rejection, the fifth or six and I said to myself, well you’re not an encourager really, you can’t write an encouraging submission. Encouragement is not your voice.

I bet God just loves it when I talk to myself that way, it’s always either fear or truth. One way or the other, it’s growth.

Maybe Moses worried he was running out of time, afraid the calling and the task might not be complete.

He prayed and asked God to show Him the way, to show him His glory.

“And he said, “My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.””

‭‭Exodus‬ ‭33:14‬ ‭ESV‬‬

God assured him, I’m gonna be with you and you’re gonna know without a doubt you’ve been in my presence, but I can’t show you everything, you won’t see my face.

God told Moses that he would lead him and that mercy would be shown along with goodness. Moses saw God walk away and nothing was ever the same.

Moses was not afraid.

Not afraid to be led and to lead.

Or that he would run out of time or provision.

The measure of my success is often skewed by my fear of not being enough, fear I won’t have the time or won’t choose to go on.

A futile mindset, until I was reminded by the sky and the glory and later, discovered my glasses at the foot of the bed and carried on, carried on anticipating the next time I’ll be reminded to notice God in my presence,

His glory reminding me, I am not afraid.

Linking up with others who are writing for 31days. I can’t say I’m following all the rules or that my presence is share-worthy encouragement, I’m just writing…Freely.