Faith

Silent with Wisdom

bravery, courage, Faith, grace, mercy, Peace, praise, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Stillness, Teaching, Trust, Vulnerability

It’s gray and slow moving here. I love it so, a day that falls open waiting for me to fill, sans obligations.

I looked in the back of my Bible to direct me to the next words for today. First though, my thick book covered in cobalt blue fell open to the Book of Job.

Job always teaches me.

His condition, his surrender in the beginning, his confusion, his loneliness, his distress and maybe, eventually surrendering and accepting the life he knew will never be again.

I always learn from how he is battered by the abandonment and loss and yet open to learning from God, knowing God is still not just God, but His God!

Chastised by friends, cajoled to curse God and then having a discussion with his friend about God essentially saying tell God how you feel if you’d like because you don’t belong in this pit, you belong in the light.

I’m glad I have a couple of friends who pull me out of my pits, tell me I don’t belong there.

The verses towards the end of Chapter 33 are underlined in thick ink and have asterisks next to them and this is where my Bible fell open on this foggy, thoughtful morning.

This place and then Luke 1, the words of the angel to Mary reminding me the things I feel are impossible are possible with God.

“He has redeemed my soul from going down into the pit, and my life shall look upon the light.

Behold, God does all these things, twice, three times…to bring back his soul from the pit, that he may be lighted with the light of life.

Pay attention, O Job, listen to me; be silent, and I will speak. If you have any words, answer me; speak, for I desire to justify you. If not, listen to me; be silent, and I will teach you wisdom.”

‭‭Job‬ ‭33:30-33‬ ‭ESV‬‬

We were not created for the pit, the pit may be a place we go, wallow in, get trapped, either by choice or circumstance.

We are not meant to stay there, meant to emerge clearly wiser and more softened by His light.

Thank you, Heavenly Father for thoughtful thick mornings and for causing my Bible to open in the places I need reminding, need to be silent and grow more wise.

In Jesus name and because of mercy,

Amen

What Privilege

Abuse Survivor, bravery, Children, Faith, family, grace, mercy, Motherhood, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Salvation, Serving, Trust, Uncategorized, Unity, Vulnerability

Prompted to write for five minutes on the word “Privilege”, I remembered last night the privilege to understand other women, them to understand me. I was one of four who spoke of being a victim of abuse.

Then, I recalled a mama joining in our discussion on bullying at our suicide prevention meeting earlier in the day. I was moved by her memories. Her daughter, now a professional and an adult, was intelligent, beautiful, the top in her class; yet, she did not walk onto the football field in an extravagant dress to be given her crown.

She quickly changed into her cheerleader uniform to carry out her part on the team. She was, afterwards met by vulgar comments about how “special she thought she was.”

Her mama said to this day she never talks about her Senior year of high school. So, I asked and her reply made me understand more clearly how I might be privileged when, honestly I’d struggled before to understand.

I asked, “So, your daughter was bullied by girls because she was beautiful and smart and because of race?”

“Yes.” she replied.

I understand more clearly what I’ll never understand fully.

But, this morning I’m thinking about another the privilege.

The privilege to take it to the Lord in prayer, the verse in the old hymn that talks about what a friend Jesus is and what a privilege to “carry everything to the Lord in prayer.”

Jesus, my friend seated right next to the Father is advocating for me, interceding on my behalf, surely I felt His presence last night as I took the stage before the sharing of “my story”.

I felt His presence, what a privilege,

The reason I add a little extra before my “in Jesus name”, a little extra closing to keep me ever humbly grateful.

“Because of mercy….”

Linking this post up on this blessed Friday morning with others who are considering “privilege”. Join us here: http://fiveminutefriday.com/2018/02/08/fmf-link-up-privilege/

My Saturday’s Share

Abuse Survivor, bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, Homeless, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Serving, Stillness, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder

Reading your words from another “space” is hard to describe. Sometimes there’s anxiety. Sometimes there’s awe. Always, there’s the yearning to pick them up, hold them, bring them to my chest to say, “it’s alright, you were brave, you are you”.

I was awakened by this message and unintentionally did a screen shot. Yet, there are no coincidences with God, his desire is that my joy may be full.

“Until now you have asked nothing in my name. Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full.”

‭‭John‬ ‭16:24‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I read my post early this morning and it caused new thoughts, new understanding of “asking for help”.

Asking for Help

This comment below on Lisa’s blog describes how God has brought others into my life to grow me and to show me I am loved:

“This post is still teaching me about Jesus, about His humility and His ever present willingness to help me. This morning, it’s reminding me that none of this is about me, only Him through me…I just get the chances to let Him shine. It’s pretty amazing the things our soul tells us when we slow down and listen.

I complain about my “job” sometimes. It’s a field everyone mentions “burn out”, carrying the things I hear and see all day, mental illness, domestic violence, child neglect, homelessness, suicide. Here’s the thing, writing this piece has shown me…if God had not placed me in this position almost nine years ago, I’d never have just gone out on my own to help/to serve. So, praise Him and thank you, Lisa, for the space for all of this to clearly land strongly.”

Live Lightly

Faith, grace, mercy, rest, Stillness, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I can’t decide whether it’s the quote which inspires these posts, the images so divine and perfectly selected to portray the thought, or the emotion of “oh, wow.” that settles over me each time I’m happy to be satisfied by “Lightly Child, Lightly”.

“It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.” Aldous Huxley

 

Visit David Kanigan below and maybe be compelled to take it a little easier on yourself, let God be God and let it be.

 

At least that’s what these posts do for me.

Lightly Child, Lightly.

http://davidkanigan.com/2018/02/01/lightly-child-lightly-154/

Songbirds Singing

Faith, grace, Peace, rest, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

Two weeks since we walked. Cold some days and gone the others.

I kicked off my boots, switched to the Nikes and left the sweater, the pants, just added big hoodie.

We began with a light stepping run.

I realized the ease.

Realized the difference.

Walking then, I noticed the birds, tiny, tiny and gray little things the size of my palm.

Others in the barren branches waiting the tiny sparrow’s fairly novice flight.

Sounds all around, impossible to see, to know where from, birds singing like Spring.

Soft, I decided. If I touched them, they’d be soft. I wondered how it could be so strong, so small, seemed so very new, newborn.

Brought to mind the song from before, the days I sat with college girls and we yearned over the long, longings…so far away and so long ago before…

For you, there’ll be no more crying…And the songbirds are singing, like they know the score.

Fleetwood Mac, Rumours

From then, we walked easy even though daylight was dimming.

I stopped because of skinny branches I thought were pretty and I let the Labrador pause to smell the earth underneath.

I waited for the sky to go coral and then we turned towards home.

Remembering why we walk, finding what waits to be noticed.

Privilege and Memory

Children, courage, Faith, family, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Last week, I woke to the smell of warm and delicious.

Bacon, I wondered?

I’d forgotten to buy it and we had talked of grilled cheese sandwiches thick with pork for my sweet son-in-law.

Homemade tomato basil soup was the plan, the sharp cheddar mingled with bacon.

But, I’d forgotten, or was there bacon after all?

I woke up slowly, had words in my mind and some in my hand, added those that were for me using thin leaded pencil on my page in my book called “What God can Do”.

The little room with the window welcoming the day once the curtain had been pushed aside.

Two days here, three nights and sleep wrapped ’round me deeply.

I rested well.

I’m lazy today, the one caring for the one in the kitchen.

My daughter, recovering from surgery and I’ve settled in, grown accustomed to being down the hall, being with her.

Soft footsteps shuffle my way and I look towards the slightly open door.

My daughter brings me breakfast, a burst of energy this morning she says and I say “oh, sausage!” and she says pancakes, good for you, honey not syrup and blueberries on the side.

I stretched my legs long towards the foot of the old bed and indulged as if privileged to be here and knowing surely, I’ll remember.

This morning before I drive her to her places.

We spent the day together, me driving like before. The day, a schedule this, then that and I felt like a mama with the itinerary in place. Still getting better; but, told not to drive.

We treated ourselves to a lunch that made us both feel like we’d never dined. Fancy coffee, fancy little corner we perched and we made a memory.

We made lunch an occasion.

Privileged I am and fortunate for sure.

For I’ve enough little memories of pancakes and times together and sweet little spaces that I’d never have gone,

Were it not for the privilege of being mama and being asked to be with

To be with the one who causes my faith not to waver, who believes, always believes.

Surrender

bravery, courage, Faith, grace, praise, Prayer, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Unity

Sometimes I joke about my culinary skills. I’ll say it “skipped a generation” and add that I’m quite okay with not being a great cook, proclaiming “There are other things I’m good at.”

It takes a whole lot of years to learn to be you, I’ve learned, “to do me”.

Letting go the idea of being someone who takes pleasure in meal prep and satisfied tummies and guests who are impressed.

I’m okay to continue with other things God made me to love, to love doing.

Self-acceptance, much like surrender. Quite okay with come what may, my way.

Surrender and acceptance, a balance, an ending to the sentence, the story.

Learning too, that patience is courageous like surrender is acceptance.

“my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭130:6‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Waiting is not timid, not tentative and not at all for the tender hearted.

No, surrender is strong and to be patient is to be courageous, quietly and assuredly courageous.

Prompted by Five Minute Friday, “Surrender”.

http://fiveminutefriday.com/2018/01/25/fmf-link-up-surrender/

Morning Glories

bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, heaven, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Stillness, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I woke up in the country and threw back the curtain to this wide open sky.

Yesterday, we saw the workers pruning the branches, making ways for the bright growth soon bursting through. I’ll ride these roads to my girl’s a month from now or so and I’ll be barely able to close my eyes because of all the majestic beauty of peach season!

Isn’t that what God does?

He holds our hand through the enduring, makes us new and strong in our growth, promises us a glorious new season if we’ll let him cut us from the old.

To stop wearing our old tattered and faded garments, to dress in his newness.

Morning glories, realizations filled to the brim, awaiting my drinking in and feeling led to pouring out like cream in warm coffee.

I’m without my devotionals, three of my daily ones; but, I’ve a new one called “Joy and Strength”. The quotes and the verses are ancient wisdom. The numbers, numeral and Roman, causing a longer pause.

So far, two days in and aligning with my season.

Preparing me to be re-planted in God’s freshly broken up ground.

My cousin gifted me the new one, maybe knowing I needed my soul made new.

No, most assuredly I know, it was God knowing, prompting her to know.

“No one sews a piece of unshrunk cloth on an old garment. If he does, the patch tears away from it, the new from the old, and a worse tear is made.”

‭‭Mark‬ ‭2:21‬ ‭ESV‬‬

The wisdom of the new little book I’ll open to find daily words, words that focus on after here and about what will matter then.

The truth of not just earth; but, heaven too.

Heaven more.

“But according to his promise we are waiting for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells.”

‭‭2 Peter‬ ‭3:13‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Without my set routine, not in my morning spot, my books, pencil and my Bible.

I began to wonder how I might otherwise find what God would have me know.

I looked through the wide and uncurtained kitchen window and decided it will be good to look to the day to hear, to see and to know.

And because the kitchen, the pots and the bowls, none of them were familiar or like mine,

My daughter made us oatmeal, the old way, on top of the stove.

And I tasted and saw that it was good.

So good.

So new and morning gloriously good!

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee and others who “Tell His Story”

You can join us here: http://jenniferdukeslee.com/

Shown the Way

bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, heaven, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Serving, Stillness, Trust, Vulnerability

A skinny stretch of sunlight lays across the rug and I’m captivated by the idea of a path, a choice, a plan and its leading.

I do this. I’d not say so, were it not true. I wake with slow unveiling and I soon find my confirmation in the unfolding.

“Follow that thought…there’s more for you to see, follow that train, that starting point, that pointing of the way through me.”

God, to me on this pretty morning.

This morning, I woke with the thought “How do I know the way?”

Then I read a friend’s blog post about walking in the deep spaces in the snow, her teenage grandson’s footsteps.

He lead the way, not wanting her to slip and fall.

I searched for the passage in John about “the way” and found Thomas asking Jesus what they’re supposed to do, how are they to know the way?

I continued on in Chapter 14 and found another question, Phillip asked Jesus to show him the way. I love this little epiphany God planned for me this morning, that the writer ended Jesus’ reply with an exclamation mark!

I tried to imagine Jesus reassuring me, so adamantly it would merit exclamation.

I began to sense the urgency, the hope that they, that I, that we might finally believe based on what we’ve seen, what we’ve survived, what we have made it through and all the stories of Jesus all around us through others whose lives Jesus touched, lives held in His embrace.

Like Phillip, I’m honest about my doubts, I keep asking to be shown more as an indication that all will be well.

Phillip wanted to see God the Father, wanted to be sure and Jesus said you’ve seen Him fully, faithfully through me already

and all around.

Yes, I have.

“Jesus replied, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and yet you still don’t know who I am? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father! So why are you asking me to show him to you?”

‭‭John‬ ‭14:9‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Our lives are nothing short of miraculous if we consider all we’ve been given, been brought through, most of all been promised. All the times we’ve been “shown the way” through Jesus to the Father.

Apples of His Eye

bravery, courage, Faith, grace, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I fell asleep trying to remember what I’m supposed to do if my car starts to slide on the slick road touched by just a smattering of snow.

I believe I decided not to slam down on the brakes, not to jerk the wheel, to sort of allow the slide into a safe place to rest.

It’s a phenomenal occurrence, snow in southern South Carolina.

patiently waiting for snow

I made a plan, I’d just follow the pull and trust the direction.

My first thought in the dark of early morning deciding to rise or linger, “I’m not who I was.”

I asked my son last week, “Why do you think so many planes are skidding off the runways?”

And his analysis was different than mine, starkly different and obviously more expert in comparison since the only plane I’ve ever boarded was a crop duster with a farm boy hoping to impress me.

He said the runways are slick, it’s winter and the pilots in some foreign countries are simply not as well trained and perhaps, not as attentive or exact.

Oh, okay.

Slightly veering off course might be to be expected.

I met someone yesterday who wore the evidence of faith on her face.

Someone who’s appointment was timely, my faith faltering, getting off course and on the cusp of falling over fear’s cliff.

I’d not seen her in two years and our meeting had a serious purpose, still just as before we began to talk about our faith.

She’d had a medical emergency, simple procedure led to sepsis and she, according to the more skilled physician who she feels saved her life, had only a day between living and dying.

I told her I saw it, I saw how her eyes expressed the stillness of hope, the assurance of God, the unwavering trust in Him that caused her cheeks to be lifted happily, her jaw relaxed into a calm perseverance.

Her countenance had changed, a serenity from strength.

We smiled.

She thanked me, thanked me for noticing.

I wondered if she needed to be reminded or if she saw my need of reminding.

I sometimes do. I’m easily taken back to a place of unworthy, unable, incapable.

Powerful words have been spoken over me, for me, through me and yet, I feel less capable than ever before.

Trauma lingers, woven early on or fallen into as we go, sometimes our own fault, other times harsh circumstances from heavy, hate filled arms and loud voices.

She knew. We both know, hurts and harms linger and become the gauge for our worth and ability.

I teeter on the edge, close to going from not sure I can to despondent…oh, well I just won’t.

We walked together towards the door and embraced. I’m going to be praying for you, she said and I told her I’d be doing the same.

We both agreed that we are fearfully and wonderfully made, that God knows full well that He has good for us.

We agreed that Satan knows as well, just as well.

We carry doubts, fears, anxieties and insecurities that rush over us like a hard knock me down wave in the wide,wide ocean.

Facing the shore, considering all of the good things awaiting me, I stand solitary and stoic, convinced I will finally be the me God sees, then I feel the ocean underneath changing, pulling, pulling, pulling from behind.

From before.

Before, when I wasn’t who I am.

Do I surrender to the strong and angry sea hoping to level my soul, even drown me or do I turn towards the wave, confront its instigating and gracefully allow it to carry me forward, hold me in its strong embrace?

And realize I’m not so small, I’m strong.

I’ll be strong, I’ll be stronger than I’ve ever known.

“My steps have held fast to your paths; my feet have not slipped. I call upon you, for you will answer me, O God; incline your ear to me; hear my words. Wondrously show your steadfast love, O Savior of those who seek refuge from their adversaries at your right hand. Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings, from the wicked who do me violence, my deadly enemies who surround me.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭17:5-9‬ ‭ESV‬‬

“I’m not who I was.” my waking thought and now that day is done and

I’m safely home, not skidded off track or pulled back by the hand of doubt, my destination still, with God, my faithful pursuit.

Today, a good day, with just a smattering of snow.

Today, even more distant from who I was and closer to who God has me to be.

The apple of His eye.