life unfolding and making sense

courage, Faith, Prayer, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability
Confident of seeing the good God has for me

Confident of seeing the good God has for me

 

Life unfolds in a way that makes sense now.

God’s word not archaic or foreign anymore…not far away words from a far away time.

Paths cross. Brave and blessed believers now grace my path in ways that make absolute sense.

Because of God.

Only because of God.

Words in the form of praise or plea are sweetly stored and recalled at right time, right place.

Scripture, ancient Biblical struggles and victories are relevant, relatable.

Sometimes,  recited as reminders by the right person.

How can it be that God would orchestrate my day so intentionally?

A quick stop at Food Lion midday, normally at the end day.

A familiar face turns from her work and smiling says ” How are you?”

The conversation turns to Jesus and I’m enlightened and amazed as she says, “Let’s walk up here.”

I listen as she excited tells me about how much God loves me.

Tucked away in the corner of the produce section

“God is unfolding His glorious plan for your life and the closer you get to him, on your knees, in His word…the clearer you will see.”

“You are worthy and you are valued. You are precious in God’s eyes.” She continued.

“You are distracted and worried. God sees that.  He sees you standing strong in the midst of the chaos, like the wheat amongst chaff.”

Is it odd to talk about Jesus in the produce section with the Food Lion manager who stops by with donations?

Even more odd to listen as she speaks from God’s word of how the wheat would be separated from the worthless chaff?

That the wheat will stand strong and firm as the worthless chaff falls away?

Being wheat was something I knew I wanted to be to God. Years ago read of wheat and chaff and knew then I want to be wheat.

Not chaff, not worthless.

Valued by God, worthy. Standing strong.

So, it was not odd at all that for this time …God is Sovereign over us, after all…all of us.

“Praise Jesus, she says, Lisa…you are wheat!”

And we hugged, long and sweet and real.

My prayer has been for clarity

For God to make me more observant.

To pay attention to those who know Him, counselors so to speak.

And I have.

Thank you God for teaching me to notice, to listen, to embrace.

 

 

 

Sharing my Heart

courage, Faith, Motherhood, Trust, Vulnerability

 

Show your heart

Show your heart, crows feet, age spots and scars

Yesterday was the Monday we all love. The day off that falls after the Christmas and New Year’s days off.  It always feels to me like a gift, as if the timing of the date knows we all got spoiled rotten in the holidays, school out, time at home, cold outside, just lounging days after Christmas.

A day off from work in January is a sweet grace period before we really step up our game for the new and resolute year!

Of course, yesterday, an observance of a powerful leader who spoke of peace and rest, not strife and unrest made it even more appropriate that we “pause” in January on a day off from work.

However, at 8:30 ish, I get a text saying ” I need you.”

The nonprofit agency I oversee operates a homeless shelter for single mothers and their children. We embrace our families and facilitate lasting change for them.

Our mission. Pretty effective words, right?

Outcomes based and inputs focused…all the language of grantors, corporate or otherwise. I have a reputation of doing my absolute best to do what I say. Employees know this foundational truth about me.

And I do try.

Our approach is to help women acknowledge their role in homelessness along with the bad hand life may have dealt them. Staff ( I am blessed) who have just the right combination of empathy and structure spend at a minimum of  an hour a week, just talking about challenges, setting attainable goals.

Still, just as we all come with our scars, many of the women have deep, deep scars resulting in a closed off and protective approach.

Scars, no matter how scabbed over can be ugly.

Trauma has a way of hardening, hiding and disguising hearts. That way, they can’t be broken again.

Yesterday, I sat with a mama who had decided she was not going to talk to us anymore. She was going to bide her time and avoid a certain key staff member. Something had been said and even though the staff member apologized profusely, she was not going to budge.

Unfortunately, because Nurture Home requires meetings with staff, this refusal, going on a couple of weeks now, would not be tolerated.

I would need to tell her she and her children were being discharged.

Arriving at the shelter, tension filled and unpleasant, I first talked with the children and mama’s. All were situated in the den, braiding daughter’s hair, little girls braiding their baby dolls hair. One mama working on a job application while her son played a game. I simply said in front of the children, “I know there has been some yelling and some people have been angry…that is not good.”

I spoke, to the boys and girls, homeless and afraid, and told them that I knew they needed a calm house to live in, so I’m going to do my best for our house to stay that way.

Children who experience trauma, unrest, instability are keenly aware of the dynamics, the mood, the possible violence in their home. They are skilled at trying to determine what’s next, how to stay safe.

I know.  I was one of those children.

So, I promised them that we want them to be happy and not worry while they are living in our shelter.

The 7 yr. Old raised her hand and said,  “I have something to say, I’m happy, because I have a home. Nurture Home is my home.”

And then, she asked if I could braid her doll’s hair.

Still, the angry mama was not budging. Her heels were dug in and she refused to talk with staff. She and three children, one who sat next to me, head resting against my chest, would be leaving.

So, we gathered for our “one on one”. We talked about what the staff member had done that she would not forgive. The decision had been made, she and her children will leave at the end of week.

I told her that I didn’t want her to leave without talking things through with the staff member before leaving.

Because, I said, I know what you are doing. If you are angry and if you stay angry and leave, you don’t have to trust again.

You don’t have to take the chance of being disappointed by another person you thought cared.

And then, I did the thing that’s taboo in my work.

 Self-disclosure…”don’t let your clients see your insecurities…they’ll use it against you, you’ll lose your power.”

I disagree. If my struggle is not used for good…it’s stays just that, my struggle, my pain, my scar.

I asked her to look at me and I said. “If you leave Nurture Home because you are afraid to trust, we have failed you. I see what you’re doing. We all have ways of protecting our hearts.  My childhood taught me to stay in the background, not cause problems, never challenge anyone who mistreated me. I stayed safe that way along time”, I told her.

“That’s not safe. That’s trapped. The victory is in being vulnerable and courageous at the same time, not tolerating bad, but being open to good”.

She cried. I held her. She cried again. I told her,  ” I don’t want to discharge you.”  “I don’t want to leave.” She said through tears.

Where is it safe to share your heart?

Go there.

A Quoteworthy friend – there for them always

Children, courage, Faith, Motherhood, Uncategorized, Vulnerability
Timeless, little brother, big sister

Timeless, little brother, big sister

Is there a price tag on the value of seeing smiles on the faces of our children?

I can’t fathom the worth.

Nor can a very good and wise friend who loved his little boy and loves his adult son with no limits, no accounting of financial investment or sacrifice.

My friend is true and kind and quoteworthy.

His words are timely and were seen through all of sudden tear-filled eyes.

I love my children. He loves his son. No record of Debt, unconditionally, honored to give, a demonstration of love.

On a Saturday morning, I check my email and a wisdom-filled friend takes time from his Saturday to say:

“It’s not just money.  Everything you give a child unconditionally, every ounce of support, assures him or her that you love them. And when they are 32 years old, and you tell them that even though you don’t know all that is going on in their lives at that moment, 
you are there for them always……you can get a text back saying, “I knew that all along.”

Kind words from a friend are like honey. Proverbs 16:24

 

 

Blessed – a faithful promise

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

 

Believing God

Believing God

I am seeing life from a different perspective lately.

It wasn’t a sudden realization of a new mindset or just a new, clear understanding of something I’d heard all my life, but never embraced.

Last year, I filled a trendy mason jar with slips of paper, intentional recordings of  “good things” in 2014.

I ceremoniuosly opened the jar on January 1st, letting the little, wrinkly folded slips spill out onto my desk.

And I read each of the ” good things”…the blessings.

A trip with daughter.

A positive e-mail for my son.

A friend who understands me, a day of making an obedient choice.

I noticed, I’m afraid, that my attempt to be grateful was really just an exercise, an assignment, a self-imposed and empty chore.

Unfortunately, I felt no more blessed than before and I found myself striving just to figure out something to slip into the little jar.

And so, my word for 2015, “Blessed”

Not blessed because I can recall a couple of things that went my way or blessed because of something or someone or some break in a period of delay. Blessed, not because circumstances went the direction I wanted. Blessed as in God in His gracious mercy has unending favor for me.

Blessed, in that God says so.

Blessed, because I am loved and cherished by God.

Blessed, because God is good and has good for me, uniquely me.

Blessed, simply blessed and not just favored, but highly favored.

Blessed and excitedly anticipating God’s good.

I do have a new jar.

But,  my little slips of paper, curly Q script,  still pretty to look at will have sayings of  “loved by God”, “held by God”, “protected by God”, “Blessed by God”, “Surrendered to God” or “Confidently waiting”.

Because God is so much bigger than just my circumstances!

Remembering and recalling the little things along the way still, but not with a dutiful tone.

But embracing, owning, believing without reservation and regardless of my circumstances….I am blessed by God and in His eyes, His bless-ed child.

Looking in the mirror at random and seeing “Blessed” in the blue of my eyes, the curve of my slight smile.

Blessed and bravely following  Him, humbly, without fear, pursuing my Blessings, His faithful promises.

 God will make this happen, for He who promised is faithful. I Thessalonians 5:24

 

 

let’s keep prayin’

Faith, Prayer, Teaching, Vulnerability
This is why we pray.

This is why we pray.

Every January I hear from Juanita.  Last year, she wrote and mailed a Thank You card.  She thanked us for Christmas presents and thanked God for us.

She signs up for our Christmas party, but doesn’t usually attend.

She has a mental health diagnosis.

Crowds, unknowns, expectations to be social are scary.

She’s better with her day to day sameness.

This week, Juanita called.  I answered, “Mental Health America of Aiken…” and I heard.

“This is Juanita. I wanted you to know that when I said my prayers, I thanked God for you and for my Christmas presents.”

I said, “Thank you for calling to tell me that, Juanita and I’m glad you liked your presents.”

” I sure did, she said.”

I imagined her opening her gifts, a housecoat, socks, Dove soap, other essentials.

I remember her wishlist included a pocketbook and I pictured her reorganizing all her things, a lipstick, little notepad, various papers, maybe one of those little coin things you squeeze to open.  I smiled as I thought of her getting it “just so” and then setting it down for her chance to go to town.

Juanita is a sweet, gentle spirit.

A gracious Southern lady.

We continued our little talk with, ” Miss Lisa, my psychiatrist asked me, “Why do you pray? ” and I told her, Because prayer changes things. Miss Lisa, prayer changes things. Keep on prayin’.”

I answered,  “Yes it does, let’s keep on prayin’. Thanks for calling, Juanita.”

“You’re very welcome” she said.

When I pray, you answer me.

You encourage me, giving me the strength I need.

 Psalm 138: 3

 

Finding my key

Faith, Uncategorized
Blessings

Blessings

I was happy to make it to choir practice on Sunday.

I find my key by sitting next to a soprano because I still can’t be sure if I’m alto or soprano. So, I ease closer to the soprano with a beautiful, clear tone and find my key.

Next Sunday, I get the chance to sing a song that my voice finds it’s “sweet spot” in.  I love the song and the story behind it.

“Blessings”, written by Laura Story, as she and her husband navigated unexpected, serious medical crisis and recovery.

It’s an emotional song with verses I could carry off…not really as a vocal performance; but, simply a rhythmic sharing of lyrics imploring us to trust God’s plan.

His best in midst of trying times, of despair, disappointment, disillusionment

On the drive home I replayed the track over and over.

Practicing, embracing the words,  seeking to relate more significantly…preparing to convey its message next Sunday.

I thought of saying no to the request to sing because of a rough spot, two little lines that go from low to high.

My voice is a radio/shower/blend in voice.

Quiet and subtle. Not powerful.

I have to find my key, I kept practicing the couple of lines that jump from one to another key…a high one.

I sang the words…flat first, then screechy, strained.

Okay try again.

Maybe, I thought, if I just really and truly understood the meaning of the words?

Maybe I’m not “feeling it”.  Maybe I’m trying too hard. Maybe it’s not real to me.

So, I prayed “Lord, make this song real to me. Help, me to hear the message, the blessing, the key for me.”

And I just listened, heard.

And then, I sang in my key, from my heart.

Because, I understood.

“What if my greatest disappointments, or the aching of this life, is a revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy?”

Laura Story

“Blessings”

Every yearning, every expectation, each and every pretty little plan that has not come to fruition…has distressed, disappointed.

A return to salvation.

In returning and rest is your salvation. In quiet confidence is your strength.  Isaiah 30:15

Nothing of this world or in this world is capable of the thirst-quenching satisfaction of a closer walk, a consistent walk.

Dissatisfied?  That’s God’s intent, His design. His reminder that this world can’t satisfy.

Draw near, Stay near…find rest for your soul and the key for your song.

 

2014 in review – learning by doing what you believe you can

courage, Faith, family, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability
Walking in the clouds

Walking in the clouds

Last night, my friend Ray Visotski read about my waning confidence and advised simply,  “Just keep writing.”  A second comment came from David Kanigan, a resounding  three letters,  “Yes.” And so, I will.

This morning, I am thinking of my most recent Children’s sermon in which I challenged a handful of boys and girls to tell me something they were afraid to do.  One little boy described his zip line experiences …staring across a cable from a little perch, wanting to let go, but afraid.  He was happy to share how good it felt to take a chance, to be confident, his sweet face beaming as he recalled the challenge.

He believed he could accomplish what the guide told him he could.

I asked the children if they realized how afraid Mary was when she was told she would be Jesus’ mother.  I shared with them her doubts, fears, disbelief.

I told them of her encounter with Elizabeth who shared with her the one powerful truth that grounded her and led her on.

Blessed is the one who believes what the Lord has said will be accomplished. Luke 1:25

I am thinking this morning of this truth. Having just returned from a trip to the mountains on which my sister’s family and ours challenged ourselves on a hike, walked through waterfalls, ate good food, laughed and loved…All under the planning of my brother-in-law who was insistent and intentional in our 3 days being memorable.

He has the personality of a believer, a thinker, a risk-taker. He jokes about my deep thinking writing, yet instructs me to explore opportunities with my blog. He believes I can be a successful writer and artist. He believes I can accomplish more than hobby.

If I have the chance, I plan to ask him if what I believe of his journey towards his current success as a businessman and ingenious CEO was motivated by the one thing I am convinced of:

(S) He believed he could, so He did.

Here’s my summary of progress thus far in this journey of believing.

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 2,800 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 47 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Room for writing

courage, Faith, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability
Writing room

Writing room

I shouldn’t be surprised.

I’ve been here before…everything in place, steps taken for forward movement and yet, no movement, no motivation, no fire, no fervor.

I painted the guest room. My husband gifted me with a new laptop.

“Writing”, I told him “feels like what God wants me to do”.

He listened. It was important to me. He understood, I believe.

He recognized the place of my soul, the yearning of my heart.

I made a Pinterest Board and named it…”Writing Room”.

I packed up toys, treasures, junk, memories, the contents of the “catch-all” room.

The guest room, a shrine to lost parents and childhoods…all clean now.

Sparse and pretty, calm and subdued.

Art, words, images of my heart, my love, my family…my story of the stories that made me. Just a room filled with stuff actually, it was.

So, here I sit, wrapped in mama’s quilt on the couch looking for words and for reasons to explain the stuck place I’m in.

Just, typing away on my tiny little Kindle.

As if I am unworthy of writing in a pretty room with appropriate technology. Because that would feel special and deserving…Two places that make me uneasy, pressured, tending to step back. Stay in the background…The place without fear. The place of no risk.

I’ve been here before….an Art scholarship and yet flunked sculpture.

A promotion yet hindered by the fear wearing  wrong shoes

A chance to sell my art; but, refusing to take payment from friends

Two blog posts are waiting as drafts in my dashboard.

Good thoughts on resolution and lessons learned, yet, ramblings, phony words and disconnects that are “not me, not Quiet Confidence”.

What holds me back?

Tells me not to expect good?

Reminds of my disdain of attention, avoidance of being noticed?

It’s the voice of not good enough.

The perception of other’s looks when I struggle to confess my love of writing…The look that so loudly says…”oh, everybody wants to be a writer” that completely obscured the thoughts of  “Why not me?”

Yet, there is always streaming love of words, of descriptors of the commonplace, of conveyance of struggle, of fear, of celebration of joyful beauty and important moments of God’s grace and mercy.

So, move forward tenderly, Lisa.

Move forward without pressured expectations, without perfection.

Stay quietly confident. This is your theme, your heart.

Stay true. Stay transparent. Touch lives.

Turn hearts towards Jesus.

Tonight, good and true words flow from a quilt wrapped sofa.

Maybe tomorrow a pretty writing room desk surrounded by  a sparrow, my mama and daddy in picture frames and tiny little books…

Good doesn’t flow from pressure…Motivation doesn’t come from fear.

Just write, Lisa.

Just write, wherever, whenever.

Motivated, unafraid,

Don’t expect failure nor be afraid of success.

Be you, quietly confident.

” I am able to do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:13

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peace – a quiet outpouring

Children, Faith, family, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability
He is our peace.

He is our peace.

I heard, last night about the tragic death of an eight year old boy.

This past week, I met the parents of a 26 year old who decided life and it’s struggles compounded by his own unique obstacles was too hard.

His mama, daddy and sister are grieving and profoundly sad at Christmas.

A grown man, for the most part a stranger has accepted my small gesture of being available to listen, and has retold his story through tears a few times now.

Listening, nodding.  Being like-minded in the value of God’s peace are all I am capable of, even competent to provide as a support, a resource.

Because, the unfathomable has occurred.

The horrors that only leave a resounding “Why” and the aching pain in the chests, ribs and souls of those who grieve.

And now at home, the eve of Christmas Eve, discord at home rears it’s hateful head.

A whirlwind of exchange of anger, frustration, hurt and rivalry has been an occasional upheaval within our walls.

Siblings at different stages of life passages are simply incompatible.

Love and forgiveness, a bending of opinions, unique wills has to reign.

Mamas fight with all of their being to mediate.

To see both sides, to beg for bending, understanding, apologetic acts.

Yet, we’re torn when division grows broader, deeper.

When discord remains for more than a verbal match or a slammed door.

Moments passed, the house became quiet and I sat, positioned facing our tree, rain falling, shimmery lights and my homemade paper ornaments swaying slightly as reminders of my Christmas goals for this year:

Joy

Peace

Hope

Love

And I sat a little while, thinking I need to calm down. I need to pray.

Nevertheless, I just sat.

Absorbing, experiencing the dull ache of anxiety.

Half-heartedly allowing thoughts to fake their way from my mind, masquerading as prayers.

Lord, help this stop. Lord, this has to stop….

Finally, I walk determinedly towards my bedside and I kneel.

Resting, face on carpet, I pour out my heart to God.

The ritual becomes a peaceful ease, a flow without restraint, an outpouring.

I pray for the horrific loss of a little boy at Christmas. I pray for the profound loss of the mom and dad who will recall on Christmas Day the tragic suicide of a son just 3 weeks ago.

And I pray, surrendered to God through His Son Jesus, that I will follow Him through storms of change, aiming to create discord.

Follow His design for me as a mother to my children, a wife as a Child of God, the one whose goal is a family that loves God.

Mostly, that I will know and believe more strongly that

Discord is not of God.

That God is not responsible for the stealing of my Joy, of my Peace. Of my Hope.  Of my family.

That I am strongest on my knees in prayerful surrender; not in a place of “Why me” random requests spilling from anxious, angry or dissatisfied frustration.

Because, when I pray with open heart, mind and hands, He himself is my Peace.

Jesus was born into a world of discord, of plans for evil, not good.

He was, after all turned away to be born in a stable. He was finally, despised, rejected and crucified for us, to be our salvation and our solace through the powerful Holy Spirit our gift of Grace connection to God.

And so He himself is our peace…The only peace in a world where Sin has entered in and has torn our hearts and souls for a longing, an imploring to abide in Him…in solemn and sincere opening of heart for Peace on Earth.

Peace I leave with you; my Peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.  John 14:27

His peace, written in red for us, we are His disciples.

Peace, joy, love, hope are ours when we abide in Him through prayer this Christmas.

Adore

Children, Faith, family, Motherhood, Uncategorized, wonder

IMG_20140709_080051_kindlephoto-26148347

I love pretty words.

The last time I used the word “adore” was to describe a photo of my daughter.

I cannot recall the occasion, maybe birthday.

She sat on the couch, looked over and smiled

Beauty, grace and love captured in a snap.

Her beautiful blue eyes.

Her confident, determined ease.

I refreshed my memory on the definition of “adore” and so understand the writer’s exhortation now as we are prompted

” Oh, come let us adore Him.”

Asking, the onlookers, ancient and amazed…to adore Christ the Lord!

And so, let us adore Him, let us overflow with joy, excitement and love as we humbly and blessedly imagine the beauty of the newborn king, our glorious Savior.

Five-Minute-Friday-4