Faith

Deciding Quietly

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

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The sun made the narrow spaces between the blinds a warm golden hue this morning.

Allowing time for an easy morning, I looked towards the window and considered  getting up, raising the blinds and taking a picture.

Decided against it because I knew it wasn’t the sunlight in its beginning of day that my mind embraced.

It was the light edged in shadow that kept me there under cool sheets and swift, swirl of fan, for moments longer than usual.

Looking towards the day in a way that spoke softly for my submission, as if knowing I’d grown weary of demands.

Barely lit bedroom,  a haven and my morning less  of dread…the light beginning to filter through, quietly without forcing response from me.

Slowly and with calm intention, I move on  towards the morning.

I begin with note to self, calling it a commitment.

Certain of its timing, I write clearly, my penmanship better than it’s been, under today’s date and encircle it in a bold bracket.

Stop looking at what others are doing. Do what your heart tells you is right, is true, is good.

Then, moved to study God’s word, today’s passages in read through my Bible plan.

And because God is God, a few words were planted there to be discovered,  to be certain of the quiet wisdom of today.

Let a woman learn quietly with all submissiveness.

 I Timothy  2:11

Linking up my five minutes of Friday here:

 

 

 

Persisting Upside Down

courage, Faith, grace, praise, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability
Persist anyway

Persistently writing

The last page of the soft white journal.

Moleskin supple, barely visible lines, a simple book.

Typically covering three months or so, I have stacks of these now.

The last page this morning, waiting for my grey swirly lead lines.

There are quiet rumblings trying to fade of a hard week with hard words, harder choices. It’s work though, and work complained about does nothing more than frustrate you in the explanation. So, I let it be, let Saturday come, let Friday meetings and confrontations go.

And journal thankful things and read the Psalms, prepare for yoga instead of parade.

I turn the page, preparing to close the book.

To see it’s been upside down all this time, the empty space for my name is blank; the little space next to the question of its worth, blank too.

I smile. It’s worth a bunch to me, I think.

Another journal filled with my early morning heart’s pondering.

I rise before the dawn and cry for help; I wait for your words.

Psalm 119: 147

Thoughts purposeful sometimes, other times shallow or habitual murmuring.

Revelations, realizations and regrets.

Progress, backwards steps, teeters and totters.

Yet, I persist. Turn the page, begin again, right side up.

Or upside down, funny the relevance of this tiny oops.

I light a pretty candle and choose music, then not.

Preferring the sound of beagle snores and nothing else.

I write 200 or so more words, remembering my promise to myself to begin and…

Write for as long as you feel the words come clearly and when you don’t feel them, can’t find them, stop.

Persist, though.

There are true and brave stories to be told in the colors of my Bible, in the words of my Psalms.

Seeing, Being Seen

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

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Several times a day I might notice a bird

or the sky or like yesterday,

the most amazing magnolia bloom I could barely see just above the fence top.

I’ll pause and just get quiet, my eyes and my soul resting.

Sometimes though, I just rush about frustrated or pitiful, one extreme or the other, angst and longing.

Then I notice the sky. The vastness of empty space, yet fullness of God and I’m better then, more myself with God.

I’m always better in the moment of pausing to look towards sky.

I think maybe it’s my age the way I intentionally, perhaps  accidentally notice God.

Maybe I am “the crazy bird lady” my daughter loves to call me.

Or maybe not, because she notices too now, and tells me about her red bird appearing outside the tall, curtain drawn farmhouse windows

following  her as she moves from room to room to front porch.

Or maybe, just maybe I’m in the presence of God more clearly, not because He hasn’t been there all along, but

Because I’m okay with Him seeing me.

I’m not as often compelled to hide from the God who sees me.

Waiting to be seen, asking where are you?

Lisa, why try to hide?

You’re seen, you’re known, you’re loved despite your attempts to hide.  You’re not hidden in the overgrowth, no need for that, listen, look…I’m here.

And they heard the sound of the Lord God, walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees in the garden. But, the Lord called…where are you?

Genesis 3:8

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee to tell His story.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/needed-begin-loving-actual-life/

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/tell-his-story/

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Mistin’ Rain

Faith, grace, praise, rest, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

 

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I intended to walk briskly, music in my ears, arms pumping and muscles striving.  I couldn’t say no and gave in to the stroll, Colt sniffing up ants and stopping, startled by sparrows.

I walked on, following his lumbering gait, an easy slack in his leash. We took the turn and my cheeks noticed then…

“It’s mistin’ rain.” I remembered, my mama used to say that and I moved more slowly up the hill, oddly content in the soft, misty rain.

Lingering in its wonder.

Took our time then, choosing to cross the grassy field, tall stalks, tiny daisy like flowers and mossy green cushion.

We step lightly, a little jump over the ditch makes me feel little girlish and my feet land on smooth pavement turning towards home.

My toes feeling the chill of wet, I’d not bothered with socks, oh well.

Misty, moistened hair and dampness on my cheeks, yet I longed to stay there, to stand in the rain, in the clarity of the nothingness of evening rain and

of wide open sky over grassy field in the mist.

At the end of a week cluttered, crowded, and disenchanted, mostly…

I found wide sky and open field filtered by the mist of rain.

O’ my soul….O’ my soul.

When clouds veil the sun and disaster comes
Oh my soul, oh my soul
When waters rise and hope takes flight
Oh my soul, oh my soul, oh my soul

Ever faithful, ever true
You, I know, You never let go

You never let go, You never let go
You never let go
You never let go, You never let go
You never let go.

David Crowder Band

Permission to Pray

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

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I prayed for her. The mama on the phone named Coretta,  the one who called twice.

Crying in a way unable to stop, hopeless over her situation, her tears were heavy, her voice muffled in the strain.

Job loss, homeless, four children, the shelter is full, ours and the others.

I suggested one thing, then another, said “Let me call here. Let me try this.”  She’d call me tomorrow she said, “We’ll figure out one more night.”

And I was tired.

It was late; but, I wanted her to hold on.

I told her, ” I’m going to pray for you tonight, is that okay?”

Then I sat, unable to forget her sad and defeated cry and I wondered when it happened…when did I find it necessary to ask permission to pray?

And why I never thought to grab the agency card, pay for one night somewhere…a bed for her children.

Then, help her with finding a shelter tomorrow.

It’s perplexing to me, what God would have me do and the hesitant person I’ve become. Why I question my interactions so much lately.

Why I feel so unlike myself, a woman who believes, is assured?

Longing to ask, God. How would you have me speak?  Why do I silence my faith in rooms filled with those who don’t believe your Word?

How is it that, I’m surprised by the contrast of my convictions with those I’d thought read and carried your same book, used it as guide?

If I could, I’d ask you, face to face, God.  I’d look up towards you, Lord, as you’re looking down towards my suddenly tentative, timid and tender heart…What is it, Lord that you’d have me to say?  Because my heart says speak loudly, but lovingly. Speak unapologetically, for the times are causing much fear, much alarm, much need for a God who is longing for our return to him…longing for our belief.

When did skepticism and cautionary hesitancy overshadow my longing to be known as a believer, a woman of faith?

When did my faith get so muffled, so obscure, so unwelcome, and so much contrasted that I’m shocked by my subtle denial and longing more than anything to be known as set apart.

Longing to be standing up straight and tall, content and confident,  not afraid to set my face like flint?

Tonight, I’ll pray for Coretta and again tomorrow. I’ll hope to meet her, hope to give beds and a roof to her family.  I’ll pray for her each time I remember her tears.There will be no question in my voice, the voice God will hear, the one He knows, no permission necessary.

I will pray. God will hear. Regardless of the others in the room.

Because I fear you Lord,  I pray. Because I believe you, revere you, trust you,  and thank you,

I pray.

But the Lord God helps me;
    therefore I have not been disgraced;
therefore I have set my face like a flint,
    and I know that I shall not be put to shame.

Isaiah 50:7

 

Some things mean something

courage, Faith, family, praise, rest, Trust, Uncategorized

When something means something to you

You long to share, but keep it close for the sake of its significance.

A bird lifted its wings quickly and flew in a straight path as I opened the door to leave.  Frustrated, deciding to take a break, hear a song, circle a block…just let it be for a bit. I head towards my car, having nowhere to go.

Then, it lands, the bird on the fence, sitting pretty. Facing me,  its torso the most vibrant flash of red.  I stopped, hoped to see again, waited as it rustled in the tree.

A red bird, I paused and felt empowered…Keep at it, Lisa.  Continue, you will be okay. “Never settle for less than your worth.” my mama said.

I remembered her strength.IMG_2291_kindlephoto-26066626

And just now, tonight as I decided to wait for God’s plan, things are falling into place.

I hear from two more friends as I’m listening via an email to advice from  “writers of hope”.

I notice the words in the corner of my new book for notes, just above the place I jotted, “God has been in this all along, the people, the places, the tough  and desperate times…the times of believing.”

With God, all things are possible. Matthew 19:26,  it said in the corner of my notebook.

I open the door to the back porch. The dog is barking. I call him, he lingers.  He waits, as if to beckon.  I wait, then ease out into the early darkness of night, look up and see the moon with the fuzzy border.

Again, my mama. Again, God.

Reminding me to be brave.

believe

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

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When your day starts with questioning

you move forward with uncertainty.

Then you do the new thing you said you would.

You stretch your mind, your limbs, your lungs, breathing deeply and with intention…in a room filled with strangers.

And you join them in murmurs of “Namaste”,  but, you’re thinking, ” Selah…It is well.”

Because the prayer you prayed when instructed to breathe, to release the heavy load you’re holding

was “Believe, believe, believe…”

You decide to believe and the late morning brings warmth in the voice of a friend.

Soft, slow, southern and sensual…she said, “Oh, Lisa…I’ve just read your letter…I’d love to see you.”

Her voice, slow like slight breeze in an open field, drawn out, long pauses in between.

 Later, thinking of the day, I left the usual route.

Decided to walk through high grass and turned to notice the sway of tree, the glimmer of leaves.

Beauty catching my eye, settled.

The sunlight decisive in it’s place of setting shadows.

It is well. Believe.

Blessed is she who believed that there would be fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.  Luke 1:45

 

 

 

Because of Honeysuckle

Faith, grace, praise, rest, Trust, Vulnerability

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Tonight I met someone offended by faith.  I didn’t know right away that their belief in not believing was a factor in their frustration.

I didnt know until I had begun to say goodbye and discovered in a random few words, they were devoid of faith, had decided to go it alone, were steadfast in their rebellion of its embrace.

Last night, I read a blog written by someone who’d decided the searching and seeking for God was a wasteful plummet into never quite good enough, never ever anything other than disgrace in the face of grace. I remember that lack, that lost.

The writer had decided to not be wrangled any longer,had decided to throw off the burden of impossible aspiring towards the good grace of God.

I thought of them both, I thought of the stubborn decision to not believe…to refuse to waver in their close fisted, closed mind and closed heart deciding to be independent of God.

I know God is in my days, in my details. I know my life before believing, when fear of measuring up led me to be convinced that believing was a venture down a path with no assurance of ever having a chance of arriving.

I remember those days of looking for God but not seeing Him.

I remember searching, being lost.

Worried he might see me, unaware that he always had and that what He saw He knew already.

Seeing God, believing God is nothing more, yet so much more than can be explained.

It’s encounter. It’s acceptance of being made, fearfully, wonderfully, knowingly and purposefully.

It’s yearning to walk with Him because you’ve walked without Him, without knowing His Son and believing in His mercy, accepting Him and His grace.

But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me was not in vain.  I Corinthians 15:37

God is not an explanation, a reporting of data driven research.

God is relationship.  God is personal.

God is a tender force, ever present, beckoning us to turn, to trust, to linger, to be at peace.

I paused to notice the flowers tucked in the shrubbery. The dog was patient as I stopped, thinking what is this bloom, not honeysuckle; there was no vine.

The fragrance of the bloom reminding of my days on dirt roads my children holding hands.  I thought, how amazing is our earth that even blooms are family, even scents are in communion?

This is why I believe in God. Because my soul knows very well.

Moments like this, an evening walk, a blooming tiny flower and the timeliness of all of it

All at once to be noticed by me, by God.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. How wonderful are your works.

My soul knows it very well.

Psalm 139: 14

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee. Here’s a wonderful post about giving and generous acts unexpected:

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/

Commas, Periods and Joy

courage, Faith, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized

I write grants. I  deplore asking for money. That’s tough, but an honest admission.

What I enjoy so, so much is sharing stories of our work, compelling others to come alongside in giving.

Two big grants were denied within days of each other…one large in amount, one large in significance.  Two things in my “pending” file that have now been decided upon, denial…not a comma, a period.

So, I decided to Let it go, Lisa.  Turn the page.  Close the book.

God is in control.  Walk by faith. Period.

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The monthly Faith column contributed for April: 

Grammar and God

I must admit there are times I could use an editor. In life and in writing I have a tendency to overuse the comma. Quite often and unnecessarily, I pause in the middle, hanging on to an idea, taking it down some path rather than closing with a firm ending, a period. If you’ve had more than a few conversations with me, you’ll know I can talk about a variety of things all at once. I have been told it can be hard to know whether I’ve finished with one thing before jumping to the next. I jump around and then pause, circling back to the beginning. I don’t think a comma would even help there. My life sometimes feels like a series of long run-on sentences.

A friend who is a wise conversationalist shared a bit of wisdom last week. Surprisingly, this insight came from a very young woman, a patient of hers. My friend, advising the young woman through trauma and life change, had been listening as her patient recalled her hardships. She paused, looked at my friend and said, “Maybe I should start using periods instead of commas.” She had essentially realized the time had come to rest, to accept certain truths.

In my desk, there’s a folder marked “pending”. About once a week I take it out, remind myself of its contents. I may remove a paper or finish a task left undone, but I don’t hassle over the items waiting. I leave them there in the place of pending. Life is full of waiting, wondering and pausing.

It can be torment to keep looking at what we don’t know, what’s not yet complete. We have commas and long pauses of doubt all over the places of our lives. What if we made prayer our pending file? Waiting would be less overwhelming. What if our lives modeled good grammar, God’s grammar? I decided to become more disciplined in my commas by adding more periods. I made a list of truths and marked them with strong, black dots of assurance, periods at the end of each. Have faith in God. Pray, and let God work. Trust God’s plan. God is good. God is in control. Let it go, Lisa.

The Book of James guides us in times of trouble. We are to expect trouble. We’re told there will be times we feel our “sentences” will never be complete, our circumstances unresolved, and our delays will lack an understanding. We will meet trials of various kinds. Do not doubt. Ask God. Believe. Don’t be tossed about. Ask in faith for wisdom, Amen,  add a period.

Count it all joy when you meet trials. The testing of your faith produces steadfastness. James 1:2

Turn the page.

Close the book.

Re-read your Faith column.

Live what you believe.

Count it as joy.

Tomorrow’s another day.

 

 

 

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee as she reminds us all of the miralce we are, the miracles within and around us…http://jenniferdukeslee.com/miracle/