Faith

Where God Has Me

Abuse Survivor, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, love, Peace, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

Lisa Brittain writes about freedom, trust and surrender. She asked me to write about freedom.

She reminds the reader that when we look to the Lord, we are radiant and without fear. (Psalm 34:5).

This morning, I read my contribution to her blog. It’s an odd excitement to see your words in other places, I hope it will always be exciting. I believe it will.

Today, it prompted a sort of urgent self-reflection, a gentle stirring me to right a slight wrong.

Early still, I’m awake and thinking about this new “forgetting and forgiving is freedom” place God has me.

I know it’s the right place, this place of deliverance longed for for so long.

Yet, it’s not about me.

I’m glad I caught it early.

Self-examination in the quiet space of morning caused me to trash quickly a post, one about not joining in the conversations about new and overwhelmingly increasing numbers of sexual abuse disclosures.

I harshly used the word “bandwagon” to judge others who are finding their voice and bravely revealing what they’d hidden for so long.

My 5:30 a.m. journal is a note to self:

Are you boastful when you declare your progress?

Are you self-righteous when you proclaim your healing?

Somewhere I remember self-righteousness being like filthy rags.

Oh.

Maybe.

And my sermon to self?

“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”

I will preface the sharing of my post on freedom by being clear.

I understand how important it is to confront physical, sexual, emotional abuse and if appropriate, even the abuser.

I understand the powerful freedom that comes from declarative disclosure, ideally with a trusted and trained therapist.

It is important to say aloud and as often as needed:

“He, she, they should not have hurt me.” or “What happened to me was wrong”.

Yes, I do understand.

I understand the strength you never thought was yours equipping you in your disclosure and growing stronger and stronger.

I understand to decide to step away from those wounds, to move on towards new and vibrant places with a countenance of confidence is a decision of will and of faith, of determination and daily rising up to meet the road with God beside me.

I’m not able on my own.

My decisive daily prayer of what to do now with my survivor story that was once horrific and now, hopeful has become:

Lord, what do I have to say that others need to hear, to read, to know? Help me to help and not hinder and to speak more of my hope through you than my harm through them. May it be so.

Because of mercy, Amen

Here’s an excerpt from my post on which Lisa gave space for my freedom story.

   For so long, I’ve held tightly to my harm from abuse.  My days and nights have been marked by reminders that prodded the scars of my heart’s wounds, the scars that would be forever tender. Talking with others who understood or at least could attempt to be empathic, I was committed to my mindset, a decision to “keep my stuff”. It was a huge part of me…

Read more here:

The Freedom of Forgetting

Happy Way of Life #15

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Serving, Stillness, Uncategorized, Unity, Vulnerability, wonder

There is always opportunity to choose peace in a world that gives more opportunities for stirring up over settling down, peace must become a choice.

A happy way of life, being an instrument of God’s peace.

“Lord make me an instrument of your peace

Where there is hatred let me sow love

Where there is injury, pardon

Where there is doubt, faith

Where there is despair, hope

Where there is darkness, light

And where there is sadness, joy”

Prayer of St. Francis

Everyone’s disgruntled over one thing or the other and it’s broadcast “nationwide” for us to see, lured in constantly by not missing out or being left out of some loop.

Social media, the not so subtle vehicle for gossip and inciting conflict and confusion.

So, look away I tell myself.

Look up, seek peace while it may be found, look towards the clear blue sky, an open invitation saying here, “See, there is still peace for those who seek.”

This little building held a group of people called a coalition and while I differed from them in many ways, we began the meeting the same, a benediction, an invocation.

We stumbled over what to call it considering some there are offended by prayer.

And while I was once puffed up and offended over the avoidance of the name of Jesus, the verbal listing of titles and names of all inclusive beings and people

I listened. I didn’t know the one reading intended her words to be a prayer as in my head bowed down, my hands opened in my lap, an acceptance of heaven here on earth.

I listened.

My eyes were not closed, my posture not bowed down, more open.

I listened and found a tiny place up high in the beautiful old room to fix my eyes.

I listened quietly as did the others as she read, happy to hear that our “focus” she had chosen was peace, happy to be reminded to live peacefully with others and with our Lord of peace, Jesus.

He is with us.

Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times in every way. The Lord be with you all. – 2 Thessalonians 3:16

Stuff of Sorrow

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, grace, heaven, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Serving, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting

Most of my afflictions have been “momentary” and later, I understood them all or with time, accepted them. I can’t say any of my troubles could compare to Job’s and if I’m honest, nor does my unwavering trust.

My choices waver at times, not so much like altogether abandoning my faith; but, like the rich man who couldn’t imagine choosing to follow over keeping all the wealth he had.

And a ruler asked him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” And Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone.

You know the commandments: ‘Do not commit adultery, Do not murder, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Honor your father and mother.'”

And he said, “All these I have kept from my youth.”

When Jesus heard this, he said to him, “One thing you still lack. Sell all that you have and distribute to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.”

But when he heard these things, he became very sad, for he was extremely rich. – Luke 18:18-23

Sometimes I’m sorrowful over my sorry state of mind and lack of solid pressing forward.

When Jesus told the rich man what he needed to go beyond just being good, it was more than he wanted to hear; I believe he was looking for one more commandment, maybe a new one he could boast about his adherence.

Instead, Jesus asked him to sacrifice.

He asked him give what he treasured, asked him to give up the thing he measured his worth, his value by.

When Jesus tells me to do something or to do without something, it’s obviously not a tap on the shoulder or a verbal command.

It’s more a stirring, sometimes unpleasant and others exhilarating over what my life might be if I gave my all, gave Him my all.

When that soul stirring says “change” “surrender” “give up” or “give all” it’s a call to follow, to come and see how my life might be.

Mostly, I meander and the hard truth is I often ignore and it’s sort of secretive. Only God and me know, how I might be different were I to choose differently.

Then comes the sorrow, the sorrow we label loosely in other, more understandable ways.

Calling it humility, doubt or disappointment because we don’t want to call it what it is, disobedience.

Doubt somehow is easier on the heart, feels more allowable and forgiving like mercy or grace.

Like the Proverbs verse about the dog returning to his vomit, I’m prone to patterns I know, mostly in my thinking, thankfully.

Job chose a different path than the rich ruler. Both had a whole lot. The rich ruler lost nothing, Job everything.

Job refused to curse God. The rich ruler by his refusal to let go of all his riches, essentially did.

Both were sorrowful. Both were tested. One held fast to God, the other to His riches.

And the LORD said to Satan, “Have you considered my servant Job, that there is none like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, who fears God and turns away from evil? He still holds fast his integrity, although you incited me against him to destroy him without reason.” – Job 2:3

Job lost property and children and did not blame God.

Chapter 2 has a header in my Bible that says “Satan Attacks Job’s Health”. Job’s wife watches as he breaks a pot to alleviate the pain and presence of sores, scraping desperately over the toxic wounds now covering his entire body.

She tells him he should curse God and die.

Job replies that her talk is foolish and reminds her we shouldn’t expect good from God only, that we might experience bad, we might experience evil even.

In the midst of our suffering God is still working, will we hold fast and trust Him?

I wonder how the rich ruler continued on. I’d love to know that he reconsidered his riches, that his cycle of security through wealth was somehow harshly broken.

And that when he had nothing of his own making, he believed Jesus and was made new.

This world is not our home, nor all the stuff we pile up round our rooms or anxiously work to acquire and feel we are finally enough.

But, eternity and the riches of heaven, oh my goodness, it is ours for the asking and while heaven can never be here on earth, it’s so very much closer in and around us when keep what we need, our faith and care so very little about the things that are just “the rest”.

God honored Job’s integrity, gave him and his family back all that had been taken. His days continued, they were full with so much more because he accepted what was taken, all.

And Job died, an old man, and full of days. – Job 42:17

Sun, Sit

Faith, family, grace, grief, heaven, Peace, Prayer, Stillness, Vulnerability

He sat so that I might see

The sunbeams that were

Soon to be sunset.

We’d walked a sauntering stroll

Purposefully so and the same prayer,

A thought unspoken.

Peace for them, peace surround them

Evidently, all around and real.

As our neighbor lies passing.

The thought I keep thinking.

He paused and I attempted new prayer

But, nothing came.

Peace, I asked again.

Peace.

And the Lab sat until I said “Come on.”

We continued on.

Continued on.

Burst Bubble

bravery, Faith, grace, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I had good intentions. I made a list and circled each of the 3 things I felt I should do.

I thought I might try.

One, a request that I write on “freedom”, another, the theme is education, I had and still have an idea.

A third, a lofty hope to be selected as the author of a devotion for women.

I’m not super social, I feel safest all alone.

But, I got beckoned from my bubble today, my little protected place where things are not at all perfect; but, they are good and at least, I know what is my own.

And I realized just now that I couldn’t begin to be expressive in a coherent and communicative way. It would be chore, clarity lacking, shallow sharing.

Nor should I try.

Not now.

So, I decide to back burner the writing goals, some of them commitments and to pray before sleep instead.

To pray for one who held my hand, in a final sort of goodbye way surrounded by her family.

And another not seen in a long time friend who asked me to pray just now and I replied, “I will.”

Changed by others, humbled by my trivial troubles, I will pray.

Pray for others.

I will.

Now.

Later, my list I’ll resume.

Praying for others

and me.

Prayer is the exercise of drawing on the grace of God. — Oswald Chambers

Bird’s Eye, Mine

birds, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, grace, heaven, Peace, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I couldn’t have captured them if I tried.

But, I certainly would if I could and so I’m always looking, ever aware of my pursuit.

I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living! Psalm 27:13 ESV

The one that met me as I began or the one that made its presence known as I drove intent on my part in making things better for someone.

Nor the ones all clustered together to then scatter separately in happy lilting flutters.

I smiled watching as my feet pounded the gravelly trail

Running as a release, and knowing that there’s no need to pause as if I’d cause their pausing. They were all around, teasingly entreating my notice.

Birds are just that way.

Momentarily glimpses of God, in my periphery or suddenly right in front.

And yet, not even as I rounded the curve and the straight place, again, there they were the same small clique, waiting to have me see.

And remember them and the ones before.

The first one, blue.

The second, red and the group, too distant to know, their wings mottled grey and brown.

I couldn’t have captured their appearance if I tried, if I’d flicked my wrist and angled the tiny lens just so and simultaneously tapped the button for a photo.

Even then, I couldn’t have fully captured it, their message to me saying you are seen, you are known, continue singing.

Continue to fly, to walk, to run towards God’s goodness.

Something happens when I step out to walk, to run when I make it a mandate for me.

An unraveling, solitude, unconcern over others around and ears muted to outsiders and filling up with a strong song.

Maybe the getting closer to the sky or unconfined behind desks and screens or maybe it’s the physicality of the unhindered release of mind, of limbs lethargic.

Out amongst the things of God, sounds, movements, and makings, I might otherwise consider only insignificant landscape.

The flight of birds, their singing and skirting about in my presence, it matters to me.

Assures me I matter to God. More than unexpected acclaim or surprising occurrence of good.

The birds remind me I’m small in His presence and yet He knows.

So, I’ll continue changed by the birds I see, I’ll be unchanged by the oddness of it that others might perceive.

I’ll continue joyously at ease every time I see one; the bluebird quick and rare in my presence, the red one, daily and often for me, and the obscure ones gathered together in their little community of engagement.

For with you is the fountain of life; in your light do we see light. – Psalm 36:9 ESV

Each of them for my seeing, elusive in their leading me to carry on, carry on towards the days of goodness in this land of the living.

The birds, the open sky, the invitation to pursue, to wait for all that is good all the good in the light I must go to see, to seek under great big skies, bordered by bird and tree, I must open my eyes to see, open them to heaven!

The unraveling of my anxious thoughts, making space for Him.

Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord! Psalm 27:4

According to Grace

confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, grace, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

I stepped out into the day, the Labrador scrounging for pieces of his food I’d spilled from the container not tightly closed.

Quiet except for the sound of his bowl lightly shifting against the floor as he dines. He glances my way, lets me be me. I believe he understands, the tennis ball rests in far corner for now.

My feet are in the soft moist grass, shifting with my steps, resting places for the view.

The sun is making greener the ground, illuminating the morning.

Purple blooms are leaning down, they’ve flourished more than before, the rain, the sun, the soil.

Must have been just right this time.

Fragile blooms, antique in appearance, the Rose of Sharon, has grown as high as the windows and will continue through September, up, up, upward towards the sky.

I’m alone in our morning yard, unconcerned over the back door open too long in August or eyes from houses on other sides of fence, pondering me as I ponder.

Grace has brought me here. Grace, the committing of my morning and my days to God.

For quite a while, I’ve been this way.

Quietly accepting come what may every morning and praying by God’s grace it goes long, longer every day into my days.

Grace, living according to grace thus far.

…that we may receive and find grace to help in time of need. Hebrews 4:16

I Pray

bravery, confidence, courage, Faith, grace, Prayer, rest, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Someone requested I pray.

I answered, “I will.”

Dr. Charles Stanley

Again, the request that I pray and again, later, the same.

I suggested in a way it seemed I wished they’d stop asking me.

I told them to pray, to read the Psalms and to pray.

As if compassion had me worn and weary, as if my well was near to dry and I feared I might run out of refreshing affirmation or advice.

“Compassion is a sympathetic consciousness of others’ distress, together with the desire to alleviate it”, according to Merriam Webster.

But much like the physician healing themselves, I realized what it means, “self-compassion”, and why I need to pray.

I opened the Psalms last night and I prayed intermittently with fitful sleep.

Intentional, I prayed Psalms 143:8.

Trusting God, I would wake and begin again.

Jesus, the Savior of the world slipped away alone to pray. Like a surgeon with nimble hands or an artist without inspiration, our capacity is limited if we are not nourishing ourselves, our souls and minds.

I can’t give my best, prayers or otherwise to others if I’m not sufficiently satisfied in my own soul.

Writing, painting, talking, loving or anything really, at all.

…you want your readers’ eye-motes to go click! with recognition as they begin to understand…but, you probably won’t be able to present a character that recognizable if you do not first have self-compassion. Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird

I find it awesomely profound that both Anne Lamott and Dr. Charles Stanley are instilling in me the same guiding truth, that I must be self-compassionate.

Before I can give, I must accept.

Dr. Charles Stanley

So, I’ve been praying this morning and later, I may paint and I may write.

I have a list distractions have kept me from.

I’m home, alone intentionally and my time I’ve asked to be perfectly ordered by God.

For reading, writing, learning

Praying. Because, I need to.

For others, for me.

I’ll find time and place.

And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, – Matthew 14:23

Linking up with Mary Geisen and other storytellers here: Tell His Story

August ‘63

Abuse Survivor, bravery, Children, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, family, grace, heaven, memoir, mercy, Redemption, Stillness, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. – 1 Corinthians 13:7

The greatest thing happened yesterday, more special than anyone will understand. I saw myself surrounded by love and I am hesitant to say; but, I am thinking it may be the unlocking of so much more, the freedom to change my perspective, to alter my imaginary ideas of what I was incapable of remembering.

That’s me there. The bobbed bangs and even back then I was unable to open my eyes for the shot. That’s me surrounded by love in the August of ’63 when I turned 3.

I’ve just read two separate perspectives on love after waking up with the realization that “we should just love”.

I can’t say how sleep unearthed this necessary proclamation.

It may have been the weekend with family, the coming together of us from different places and paths that had taken us all spread out from one another are bringing us back together.

In need of the other’s love.

In need of connecting again as if we were small and couldn’t help but be gathered together cousins, sisters, uncles, aunts, and dogs.

This morning I read of how disillusioned Jesus may have been perceived to be.

How he saw others as redeemable and that was all he saw. He saw them as returners to His Father’s love and He saw them without judgment of the places their hands, hearts, and feet had been before they came or returned from wandering.

I’d like to say I love this way. That I don’t pretend that my concerns over others is not judgment, that it is only my hoping for them to be better.

I’d love to know I could love, and that my love wouldn’t be questioned.

That I’d not have ideas about others that humbled me when they were conclusion jumping wrong.

That I’d love the way family loves, bound together although disjointed by life.

That I’d love without judgment, that my love would be childlike and innocent in acceptance and mature and intentional in the reality of its necessity and giving of grace.

I’d love to love like Jesus.

I believe I shall love better, knowing, after all, I have been loved, was and am.

The little girl in the pointy hat, the stretchy string pinching our necks as we all gathered around the table with our mamas, daddies, aunts, uncles, grandmothers, grandfathers and a bird dog patiently waiting for a scrap.

Children, now adults, all found our way despite stumbling, falling, faltering along the way.

One, Stephanie, not with us, missed so much more than time can attempt to measure. Others, babies then, too tiny for the table and some yet to be conceived.

When we all get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be!

We all were loved, I’m so sorry to have ever doubted.

For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. – John 1:16

Love endured, endures still.

So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love. – 1 Corinthians 13:11-13

Lament No More

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, grace, happy, kindness, memoir, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting

Yesterday I told a writer, a published author who is good, funny and honest, the thing I’d been thinking all week.

Andra Watkins is strong and unafraid and kind and I can’t wait to read her new book!

Andra Watkins

I’ve met her and read two of her books already. This one is a little different and she wrote that it had been an idea long ago, finally coming to fruition despite serious medical interruptions and detours.

I finally commented on her FB page.

I told her how seeing her accomplishment made me feel. Told her I was jealous. I told her I was happy for her. I told her I came up with a new word about my feelings. I had decided I was “jAPPY”.

She replied that she knew I would, that I would one day write a book.

I smiled.

Running last night, yes, me running, I decided to remember that I will only not write if it is not for me from God to write.

In that case, it will be okay.

I have written a whole lot already.

Yes.

I have a crazy real fear that my time will run out. Partly due to the lack of time because of my career and the mental exhaustion it causes, I have only tiny chunks to devote to writing. (This is my reality. This is not whining and not in need of encouraging or worthy comments along the lines of…if it mattered you’d make time.)

This is accepting that space and time will clear in time and if not, well, that change is no longer completely up to me.

The happening or not, I am a smaller part than I wanted to be.

Running towards something, pressing a little farther each time and committing to knowing this is my part, my new dedication, just keeping going.

I begin my day every day with the Jabez prayer. The one that is an imploring of God to make good things happen and to keep them coming, please.

Everyday, I realized today, I am praying for more when I already have so much, God has granted a multitude of what I have asked.

…and that your hand might be with me, and that you would keep me from harm so that it might not bring me pain!” And God granted what he asked. – 1 Chronicles 4:10

I’m a woman raised with very little and along the way I have been given so much, had opportunity to give from all I’ve been given.

The book I thought I might write no longer is the book I believe may come.

The prior was a lament, the future will perhaps only recall the past from which I’ve come; but, will be so much more heavy on hope.

God is moving me from all the past.

God is keeping me from my pain.

It is a necessary blessing.

My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me.

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end;

they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. – Lamentations 3:20-23

The song in my ears while running reminding me that His mercy will not end.

I tapped replay.

His mercy never ends. His plan for me will not be thwarted even if I stumble and get bummed out by my past so hard to forget or agonizing my far away and unattainable to me future.

A mercy song:

As Sure As the Sun will rise and chase away the night, His mercy will not end. Ellie Holcomb

His mercy will not end.

His love for me will not be removed.

I will continue in rhythm with His timing, His mercy,

His idea for my book.