Closer to Strong Walking

bravery, courage, Faith, grace, mercy, Trust, Vulnerability

Yesterday, I said something scary out loud. It was literally only seconds in the day and just a second admission thrown into the use of parallels on my path.

I woke up at 4:21 and it began, the script. Why it’s hard to ask for help and why I know. Clearly, it might be hard to share.

Clearly, I would.

Women who are homeless, it is hard for them to ask for help, I informed the audience of a hundred or so.

It’s a misconception, the whole handout mentality we’ve formulated for women who are homeless.

Told them I knew. Told them I say “your story is my story” to the women in our shelter and they may think what I mean is their story is mine for the sake of telling the whole world so I can ask for donations.

“But…” I added, “their story is my story because I’m the daughter of an alcoholic, a rape, and abuse victim and for a short time, a single mother.”

“So, I understand not feeling like I’m worthy of help or being ashamed to ask for help.”

Someone told me last week, “You have to bring light to these dark places if you want to be free.”

There’s no shame in abandoning the comforts of darkness, of uncovering hidden places of shame.

There’s freedom in throwing back the covers like morning light welcomed as new day.

There’s a man in the Bible laid flat and miserable by his plight. He’d been an invalid for 38 years. What a perfect but ugly word, invalid, yeah… maybe he thought, “I know there’s nothing valid about me, I’ll just lay here.

No one has ever cared enough to help me, and I’ve quit asking for help.”

Then Jesus walks by, says “Do you want to be healed?” John 4:6 ESV

The man answers that there’s no one to get him from his place of misery to the place of healing, plus, somebody else is always beating me to it.

Jesus said, “Get up, take your bed and walk.” And at once, he was healed. John 5:8 ESV

“Get up, Lisa, take your story with you.”

I understand.

Later on, I talked with women who’d heard my words. Some gave hugs. I accepted them as love, not flattery or consolation.

There’s a difference.

A few were shocked by the disclosure. It mattered not, though, for I’d gotten up and taken my miserable self closer to the healing.

Brave healing, I dipped my feet in the pool of grace.

No regrets, no looking back towards the place where I’d been laying.

Closer to stronger walking.

Taking more steps.

Closer to telling for good.

What a busy week I’ve had.  Still, I tucked Jennifer’s story away because her Anna made me think of my Analise and then, as the week unfolded, I began to think of healing, of healing through sharing.  I’m glad that the Dr. who treated a precious child was brave enough to say he opened his hands to God to be used.  Glad Jennifer opened her heart to share, glad she stirred my heart to move closer to strong.  I’m linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee and other talented women who are using their stories for good. 

Visit her here:  http://jenniferdukeslee.com/unexpected-grace-praying-doctor-end-rope/

 

Book Review and Giveaway- Choosing Real by Bekah Jane Pogue

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

I opened this book quite convinced there’d be nothing relatable for me. 

I did what women do, pictured Bekah Jane’s pretty little life in her pretty little sunny home surrounded by happy boys and handsome husband, and decided I think I’m too old, too much a contrasted life to relate. 

Perhaps, jealousy veiled the door. After all, her name’s on a book and mine is not. 

I began Choosing Real on a Sunday afternoon. Sunday means church to me, choir, if on a set day it means leading Missions. 

Sunday feels like work sometimes and most days I’d rather just rest.

Bekah Jane understands. Like me, she has spent many hours of her days working, planning, showing her efforts to herself and God. Barely into the first few pages, my pencil is making pretty little gray asterisks already. 

You, my friend, you don’t have to work so hard. You don’t have to strive to perform, because God is already in it.  

I understand, Bekah. I’m sure we’re not the only ones, little girls wanting to believe Jesus loved us…loves us, really. 

Less than a page or two over, here’s this gem, this rock solid truth refined and precious jewelry. 

How could I follow a Jesus I didn’t have a real relationship with other than what I did for Him?  

Yes, this is the beginning of understanding, of the wisdom finally seen clearly through another. 

Finally, I am  understanding surrender through this book. Surrender is not a strapped down performance based response because of self-condemnation over never enough or not enough consistently! 

Breakthrough here.

Yes. That truth came to me in these pages. Bekah is an event planner and so she’s all about arranging, inviting, I imagine beautiful and welcoming occasions. 

Surrender is simply saying, I’ll come along, Jesus to the events you have planned for me. 

I know that you have some very special occasions you’d like me to fully attend, to be present, to enjoy, to accept as opportunities to dine with you while dining with others at a table large with glorious grace and graces to share.

I struggle to convey how big was this epiphany, this new view of surrender so I’ll use another’s clarity from the book,  Bob Goff. 

Every day God invites us on the same kind of adventure. It’s not a trip where He sends us a rigid itinerary; He simply invites us. 

God asks us what it is He’s made us to love, what it is that captures our attention, what feeds that deep indescribable need of our souls to experience the richness of the world He made. And then, leaning over us whispers, ‘Let’s do that together’.

Oh. My. Goodness. 

I’d love to create a little list of all the places this book touched my heart.  

Bekah speaks of grief over the loss of her father in a way so real I simply wish we could meet so I could run across the room without reservation and hug her so, so tightly and say “Me too.”

Grief leveled her. Grief changed her. I understand. She and I are one in this ache  that comes round and round. 

Friends, I’ve only barely skimmed the surface of this book and it’s importance for us all. 

Last week, I attended a fancy meeting. I couldn’t wait to leave, worried over being a guest, not a member and shunned over wearing the wrong shoes or being less notable a person than others.

I sat in my car and said. “I’d rather be real.” and the sun warmed my face as I looked towards blueness of sky. I paused there in the parking lot, okay with belonging to quiet over club. 

I paused, content in being more real me than ever, a place of peace and acceptance. Happy to be real, not rich. 

Later, I painted and I will again today. This ministry born of sketching me in margins, an invitation to abandoned joy it has become. 

Work, before. Over 39 years ago, I longed, ached, tried and failed to be an artist. Now, I simply long to paint, to write, to bravely create from my heart. 

Choosing Real ends with an invitation to proclaim,  a beckoning to consider believing I matter, an exercise in embracing God’s long ago promise. 

You matter. 

I have a copy of this book I’m anxious to pass on. I know it will end up where it belongs because God placed me here on this chilly Saturday morning to share my heart and its significance with you. 

Leave a comment and at random, I’ll choose someone to send a copy, wishing I could send to all! 

Choose real. Accept God’s invitation to surrender to life when our plan gets messy or even grief and chaos ridden. 

Reach out, take His hand and remember, surrender is not selfish defeat or dismay…it’s saying “Yes” to believing Jesus has some amazing and “really real”  things, amazing days he awaits our acceptance of invitation. 

Acquaint yourself with the wisdom and heart of Bekah here: http://www.bekahpogue.com/

*Thank you to Stephanie Alton at the Blythe Daniel Agency, Inc. for allowing me to review this book and for providing a book for the giveaway this month. 

Purpose and Possibility

courage, Faith, Trust, Vulnerability

I woke excited to know the possibility. 

One of many, I am sure; still, it could be me. I wrote a brave story and followed the instructions for a literary competition. 

Added writing the essay that initially was soft and spoke of childhood to the list in the margin of my calendar called “to do”. 

I’ll know in a few days. I’ll know to be afraid or relieved,  emotionally giddy over being chosen or a bit scared of being seen and hoping to hide behind my grandma like a little girl afraid. 

Either way, there’s a purpose for the outcome. I know this to be true because I asked it to be so. 

Prayed, Lord I am taking this next step you have “purposed” me for and I will see you all along the journey. 

Purposeful, everything is. 

Opened the cabinet for a cup and see it there, little black mug with letters painted white to remind…plans and purpose, not for harm.

For good.  Time will reveal what good will come. May be simply the knowledge of taking the brave next step to make the next one more brave. 

Or maybe it will as my friend promised, the purpose of the shedding light on dark places hidden so I am free, more free than I have been. 

A beautiful and sweet, purposeful free. 

Linking up here: http://katemotaung.com/five-minute-friday/

Tender Mercy

courage, Faith, mercy, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

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I must have held a bit too tightly, anxious in my grasping.

I saw it there, moved quickly, lifted my hand and met its movement.

Held it in my hand.

I clutched with all my heart, my mighty mind and anxious searching.

And longer this time, it rested there, before its wings in a flutter of struggle convinced my opening of hand

to release again to the heavens,

mercy, stopped by again…

tender mercy.

I dreamt in bright color, red.

Held mercy in my hand, a red bird, fearless and for me momentarily; yet, less fleetingly than before.

I touched its velvet belly.  My palm cushioned its smooth chest and my fingers  settled its fitful feathers.

It rested longer this time, just enough for me to know,

tender mercy, I know you, yes.

Morning, Splendid Day

Faith, praise, rest, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder
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Good day, unleashed

I woke to sounds of nothing. Certain it’s 3:00 a.m. but, I must not look to see. Lie still, adjust quietly, pray, wander your mind, turn this way or that.

This night time thing that I refuse to accept, this pain that is mean and creepy and wakes me up, an angry spasm.

Try this, try that.

What on earth is a rotator cuff, anyway? I’m a stubborn woman. Do not like meds. Do not favor surgery. I will fix this off kilter place in my arm. I know I can.

Try not doing this, not doing that.

Yesterday was splendid, I laid there and thought.

The weather, the walk, the determined abandonment to art that’d been promised.

Colt, unleashed,  ran ahead and looked back to be sure of my follow.

Two grown geese courting  mid pond, took their time swimming away, no worries, we’ll take flight if need be.

Big happy dog swam towards them and they flirted just slightly ahead. He came when I called. His hip, knocked out of place by car, before we found him having been discarded by another,

mIght hold him back, might fling out of socket, a crazy thing.

I called him back, worried he might get too far, refusing to accept he was not as able as he hoped.

Yesterday was splendid.

He turned from the geese, close to the other side and with slowly ummph-like movements, he emerged and stood with me on the bank.

He shook, looked back, shook again and we climbed the big hill back towards the road.

Keeping him close, we strolled and paused, strolled and paused. I patted his head and said. “It’s a good day, Colt” two, three, maybe four times. Oddly happy over my talking to him and knowing he heard, I said it again.

Thinking, how beautiful a day, to be taught by a dog and to be noticed by another.

Someone surprised me and said, “You’re a very good writer.” and I replied “Thank you so very much.” hoping they knew their significance in my newly and decidedly splendid day.

I woke today, had been waiting.

I heard, finally, the morning. Dark still but, the birds beginning to sing.

Made my way for ibuprofen, caffeine and quiet meeting  with birds and Bible.

“It’s a good day.”  I thought.

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning. Lamentations 3 : 22 – 23

 

Mindfilledness

courage, Faith, grace, Prayer, rest, Salvation, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I have a friend who is a therapist, yoga instructor and a quite beautiful singer. Her voice is smooth, her tone steady and open to my turning.

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He redeems my soul in safety from the battle I wage. Psalm 55:18

She talks about trauma like David thought of Goliath.

As if to say, “I know you’re lurking, come at me, I’m stronger than you know.”

Oh, the mind filled messes we all hide away, stuff under the bed or way, way back in the dark corner of our dusty attic minds…

Thinking, “I know you’re still there; but, I have no need for you whatsoever…stay up there, away, I know you; but, have no need to bring you out.”

Trauma and memory, fine ’til they can’t rest and start to dance together, way past midnight in our dreams.

Last night, I watched a movie. Rare for me because I despise the “F word” and I have no desire for sex that looks like proud display of nastiness and shame.

The movie, “Woman in Gold” and the actor a strong and determinedly beautiful woman scarred by the siege of Hitler.

The one scene, the one that stirred up my thoughts, she is afraid to go back and remembers fleeing before being taken prisoner.

She melts down. I saw it in her eyes, Helen Mirren portraying trauma splendidly well.

She faced it. It was so very debilitating,  just for a few seconds.

She knew her giant.

Would not concede.

I dreamt in color of scary things last night, of being held captive, of being harmed.

It was clear and real. It was a true story, true of my story.

Still, I woke and said to myself.

You know the reason for the dream. You know the games your mind plays either you let it become filled with the messes or you pause to be mindful of its seed.

I thought of my friend as I practiced mindfulness and rose to begin my day unscarred by the night and its thoughts.

Birds singing to celebrate the early bloom of forsythia and azalea, of hope, truth and quiet confidence.

Feathers found reminding of grace singing over me.

Filling my mind with things to grab hold to, store up, win battles with.

I’m linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee who is changing the way I see “happy”.

 

Tell His Story

Chance and Fences

courage, Faith, grace, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability
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chances, today and hopefully tomorrow

I’m pretty sure God would not design us to straddle the fear of failing fence.

Pretty sure, he calls us to walk steadily towards good things, things that he knows our hearts desire and our minds were made for.

Things we wonder over whether it could be possible for us, all the while being unafraid

to try a new thing,

a different thing

a thing you decide admittedly naive,

might it be possible?

Today, I entered a writing competition.

That is all I required of myself.

Write and enter.

I did. I took a chance.

That was all that was required, write because you love it and let others read your words.

That was enough, all it took.

I thought later.
“The more chances I take,
the more
chances
I will be given.”

 

enough for one day.

by faith

courage, Faith, family, grace, Motherhood, Prayer, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

 

 

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towards heart’s desires

Faith, to me is really more bravery than anything.

It’s enduring self-doubt and even hostility towards your own tender self and deciding to continue on, not growing weary.

Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself so that you may not grow weary or faint hearted. Hebrews 12:3

By faith, whatever that treasure you hold tightly to, keeping quiet about it lest your heart be broken by the attempt and failure or the safety of keeping it secret…

By faith, it can come to fruition.

Hebrews 11, I named the “By Faith 15” cause it’s full of stories of people who simply kept moving forward towards God’s treasure for them.

So, by faith. I began painting again. By faith, I began blogging, telling myself I’m so not skilled for this but, I just kept on writing, by faith.

By faith, I told some special people about my book idea and even let some critique it’s intro.

By faith, I decided to be a brave writer, to be true to my story, not doubtful or embarrassed over the naivety of my dream coming true.

By faith, I wrote almost 2000 words on a Saturday afternoon, my laptop lost 500 of them but, I stopped and looked out the window towards my mama’s birdbath and said “Do not give up.” By faith, I sent the submission in and by faith, I made the final round for publication. By faith, I’m waiting now for the next step…the email to say whether I was selected.

By faith, I will trust God in the decision.

By faith, I am writing tonight, maybe painting too.

By faith, I will submit an essay to a contest no later than Monday because that is the next step.

By faith, I will decide between “It Was Libby” or “The Colors of my Bible”
Two essays, about 700 words so far.

By faith, I will wait and know God will reveal today which story should be shared.

By faith, I will look for God in my moments with others today and I will prepare my heart to lead Missions tomorrow.

By faith, I will just keep taking the next step. I will not grow weary, not grow faint hearted.

Precious Life

Children, Faith, family, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder
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Elijah Blue ‘n Colton Dixon

Made it in time before sundown and we covered our faces in fleece. Heather says fat burns fast in cold air.

So, we strolled, imagining calories burned for the sake of cold air. Baby sized ponds, the dogs ran through and we fussed over it, then called ’em back, inviting their play again.

A storm last night, she said, “The windows were shaking, mama, I mean shaking!”

I thought for less than two seconds, “Wish I’d known.”  and she continued with telling me of reaching for her sleeping husband.

Precious, I thought, oh, how sweet!

I made it before sundown and we walked on thick and sandy dirt roads, wide expanse of sky and talk of nothing really and everything really.

“What is it you plan to do with
your one wild and
precious life? “

Mary Oliver

How precious.

Memory and Verse

Children, Faith, family, Motherhood, Teaching, Uncategorized

 

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Sometimes we only remember our “memory verses, ” and we miss the most meaningful conversations God wants to have with us through His word. The conversations between believers, encouragers, and teachers, they catch me off guard sometimes and make me just glad. I forget I’m reading an ancient book, it becomes such a novel like a story, the characters captivating me, the reader.

In the second of the Timothy books, Paul reminds young Timothy of the spirit God gave him and that it is not a spirit of fear, exhorting him, sending him off to carry out his duty.

It’s a popular verse. I’ve used it, heard it, shared it and prayed it. “For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.” II Timothy 1:7

Just before turning here I’d prayed that God would make me a more wise leader, that he’d help me understand his way in situations I face. I prayed I’d be more an example, that I’d serve more than lead, be an encourager.

I prayed that my children would have moments in their days that they remembered God and God would catch their attention with something beautifully unexpected, that he would equip them for their days.

Paul was preparing Timothy by reminding him of his unique gifts from God along with the power of the Holy Spirit.

But, Paul did something even more special, maybe he sensed he needed a different approach. I love it when the scriptures are conversational, I’m there with them, and I can see Paul like a coach, a mentor, even like the guy in the Karate Kid, giving ancient wisdom and personal experience to say… “You can do it.”

Maybe, though it wasn’t fear or timidity over the task.  Maybe it was more a question of why me, how will I or there are so many who are better, more ready.

So, Paul says to Timothy. “Listen, young man, I know your mother. I remember your grandmother. I know they had sincere faith and so I know that same faith dwells in you.” (vs.5)

“Yeah, well you have a point. I have some strong and faithful women in my family.” I imagine him lifting his head and with a halfway smile of assurance nodding, maybe his mama and grandma standing in the shadows with sweet smiles.

May my faith be sincere Lord, like the faith of my grandma, the one I remember. May it be steadfast like the one I never got to meet but, only heard stories of her strength.

May my faith be sincere and my perseverance be unwavering like my mama.

May people say to my children, “I know you can do it, you’ve got the faith of your mama in you.”

May my faith be more evident each day to them

and to me.

 

 

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee

Read her beautiful story of how giving gives us just what we need! :

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/find-way-darkest-dark/