family

Protected Child

birds, bravery, Children, confidence, contentment, courage, daughters, Faith, family, fear, grace, hope, love, marriage, memoir, mercy, Motherhood, Peace, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

I watched the shifting sky, the colors filtered and spread wide.

I’m with my granddaughter on our morning walk, earlier this time.

The sky beckoning her gaze.

I capture her profile, her mama and daddy’s home in the background.

Her cheeks are full and full of joy and their blush is the same as what God has mixed in with the sky.

We walk.

I hold tight, shift her weight, careful not to have my arms press in to her tiny frame.

She welcomes my hold.

She regularly tilts her sweet face in awe of the trees, the sky.

I pray out loud, sing songs that include her name and other crazy things.

I love her. What a sweet thing.

Someone from the coast asked for my thoughts yesterday,

What do you say to your storms? DH

I answered.

I tell the storm, “I’m protected.”

This morning, I think of my children, my family and I have a moment of new and needed clarity.

If I’m protected, are not my children protected as well?

I journal my thoughts on a morning that God woke me at 4 and I decided, get up anyway.

I thought about God’s all encompassing immense and protective love.

How he loves them even more than I ever could be able.

God, you’re their protector just as you are mine.

I don’t have to “stay on top of things”.

I don’t have to anxiously remind you in my prayers to keep things under control.

Ha! Wow!

Me, reminding you of your role?!

I don’t have to watch from a distance so far that I squint to hope to see what’s going on, strain to hear, concentrate or calculate the endings of stories of their books when they are barely a chapter in.

And that you, not I, have already written.

I can set aside my book, my syllabus of reading between the lines, leaning toward tragic stories over beautiful and memorable autobiographies.

Like mine.

Yes.

I can know they are protected.

“No one has ever seen God. But if we love each other, God lives in us, and his love is brought to full expression in us.”

‭‭1 John‬ ‭4:12‬ ‭NLT‬‬

I can love more fully than I’ve ever loved.

Point more clearly towards hope.

Be strong so that my strength is what they admire.

Yes, love.

Love is the protection, mine to freely give.

Best I can offer.

Protection is yours.

Belief in Prayer

bravery, Children, contentment, courage, daughters, Faith, family, grace, hope, memoir, mercy, Motherhood, Peace, Prayer, sons, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

Some evenings I walk and I recall some instruction from some time ago reminding me to use the strength of my core, the power in my legs.

I may have turned a corner at the place on the path that my muscles are less tight and resistant and so, my walk becomes a flow, an easy assurance to go on.

Other times, the heavy weight of me goes uneased and I consider turning back for home but never do.

I walk on.

And I lean forward although it’s not the best look or posture, I bend my head towards the ground and I slump a little over into the heart of my fatigue, the core of my concern.

I walk on. Music or calming advisor in my ear, I’m absorbing information that is for naught now but always surfaces later.

I’m thinking about compassion today because someone and I talked about it a few days ago, the demonstration of it, the innate trait of knowing how to make it known.

Compassion, I read is “to suffer together” with others.

Like leaning into their distressing situation and through your presence you’re invited to listen or through your unknown prayers unrelenting.

It’s being in a tough season with someone knowing you can’t comprehend their seasonal distress, nor can you walk them through it, instruct them to walk forward in a certain way.

You’ve got no measurement for their trip, your only traction for their footing is your alignment through prayer.

John, Peter and James trekked up the mountain with Jesus. They’d been in His presence, had observed all of his healing, all of the furor over his being God’s Son, the speculative conversations disputing His purpose, Redeemer.

They’d seen Jesus walk on water, they saw Him have compassion on the hungry, the deaf, the ones brave and desperate enough to draw near.

They climbed up to the mountain aligned with Jesus and there they saw Him transfigured in the presence of Elijah and Moses, with God. Peter didn’t really understand. They were terrified by the ghostly presence. At the same time, Peter’s heart was settled. God was near.

“And Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good that we are here. Let us make three tents, one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah.””

‭‭Mark‬ ‭9:5‬ ‭ESV

My children are entering new phases. They are stepping into new challenges, emotional and other. My daughter, a 1st grade teacher will nurture and then teach a new group of children.

Yet, she’ll be challenged beyond comprehension as she leaves her precious newborn, Elizabeth, at home with the grandmothers, still she will be leaving her, separated and in our care.

The emotions are palpable as I listen to her talking of being prepared. I agree. I listen. I will pray.

My son will begin the final leg of his academic journey. He’s pressed on quite consistently and has arrived in a pivotal and challenging finish line, approaching stretch of the journey. He will be challenged by numbers and so many yet to be seen things in his steady path towards God’s purpose and career.

Much like the disciples who longed to heal for themselves the son presented to them by a distraught father.

Seizure afflicted for so many years, Jesus told them why their interventions wouldn’t bring healing.

Only the father’s prayer would do. We don’t read of whether he’d been praying for years or whether he never considered it,

The irrefutable power of a parent who aligns themself with Jesus and thus, God the Father, through prayer.

The son was healed. Jesus gave all the credit to the father’s cry.

I don’t want the significance of this gift of my morning Bible to be wasted.

Picture yourself in the presence of Jesus and you’re at the end of your rope, the last of your wit and your sense and he says don’t you go deciding on your own what is possible and what is not!

“And Jesus asked his father, “How long has this been happening to him?” And he said, “From childhood. And it has often cast him into fire and into water, to destroy him. But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.”

And Jesus said to him, “‘If you can’! All things are possible for one who believes.”

Immediately the father of the child cried out and said, “I believe; help my unbelief!””

‭‭Mark‬ ‭9:21-24‬ ‭ESV‬‬

To pray for your children is to lean in to God.

It is to stand on the safer shore you’ve come to know because of age and experience and be content as background material, consultant over companion.

It is to glance their departure into a distant and new sea.

It is to know that they know you’re praying at every turn and transition into the unexpectedly hard places.

It is a prayer that remembers their toddler frames that required you supporting their falls and becomes support in a more solid way, the visits of grace to them unexpected because you are diligent and persistent in your new compassionate role.

Hands off, heart all in.

You become constant in your prayers.

You pray for alignment of them with you. You pray that the tough times grow them when those times require physical and emotional endurance only God can give.

Not a parent.

No, your part is prayer, the believing kind. Your part is compassion that aligns with Jesus, agrees with God.

Your part is prayer that allows you in to their personal places, leaves all your worries, your hopes, your exaggerated stories on the table, sat next to the Savior to be shared with the Father.

Knowing grace is sufficient and being unwaveringly convinced that grace is good and it’s a gift to your children they never have to fight for, it is mercy that endures.

Mercy like the prayer of a mama, it’ll never be taken off the table, it won’t be a rescinded invitation.

It’ll be like grace, an enabling spirit, a compass positioned towards healing.

Prayer, the power of a parent’s prayer.

Incomprehensible!

“Afterward, when Jesus was alone in the house with his disciples, they asked him, “Why couldn’t we cast out that evil spirit?” Jesus replied, “This kind can be cast out only by prayer. ””

‭‭Mark‬ ‭9:28-29‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Maybe the sweetest thing I can do is to pray my children

Continue and believe.

More sweeter even is that they see me continue towards believing in God and in them with no need for constant checking in.

Yes, continuing to believe.

To believe in God with them.

A prayer for our children?

To have them unexpectedly experience that God is near.

God stay near, the cry of a parental prayer.

I’m linking up with Mary Geisen and other storytellers here:

https://marygeisen.com/if-you-knew-me-when/

Accomplishing Little with God – Blog post #821

Abuse Survivor, Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, family, grace, memoir, mercy, obedience, painting, praise, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

Have you ever known a leaf to sprout from a tiny brand new planted seed?

A seed like the ones we planted in paper Dixie cups and watched to see the bright tiny green come up from the black dirt?

The butter bean plant would sprout and then we’d watch granddaddy put it in the ground to wait expectantly for the beans.

Waiting back then was so sweet, shellin’ peas and beans and pulling up dirt covered peanuts to pluck them from the green stems as we sat in the back of an old truck.

And later with dirty hands and bliss, we’d eat huge bowls of briny deliciousness.

Maybe children understand process, maybe waiting was learned through simple participation.

Anticipation was not anxious, it was more moving a little closer to what we’d grown to know.

On Monday, God offered an option, pointed me towards a reprieve from my incessant seeking to hurry up and become what I had yet to see.

Pending needs were not being met by responses from others.

Getting things done meant waiting for others to deliver on their part to me.

Then Tuesday came like a gift of a day and I accepted it like the joy it was indeed.

I let unfinished business lie in the places I’d left it, the tasks, the obligations, my initiations towards finishes.

I stood in my morning kitchen and stared at my feet.

Fascinated by the calm colors, the image of me, steady and still, planted.

Told myself, today is for the baby, baby Elizabeth and your girl.

It was a good day for sure!

And now, here’s half a day gone, middle of the week Wednesday.

I’m at a standstill, a snail’s pace, dependent on others.

My to do list with no new strikethroughs!

Unfinished tasks on my mind and underfoot and uncertainty over the current vagueness of my vocation.

Paint, write, assist, consult…which way, which road?

Dropping hints about my skills and being available, my multiple seeds.

“Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” Jesus

‭‭John‬ ‭12:24‬ ‭

Have you ever considered “waiting and trusting” a sacrifice?

The sacrifice God wants is my trust, for me not to meander away from who He says I am in futile attempts to hurry up and be a better version of me.

Have you let God plant you in the soil He intends to grow you or do you resist what seems like nothing, impatient and worried?

Has your identity changed, what you were known for been taken, now different?

Does it feel as if your thing you thought was yours has been stolen?

Is it hard to see that God has better for you because you’re so attached to before?

To accomplishing much?

My mama used to say “Turn the page.”

God is saying, I think to me, “Plant new seeds.”

He knows you, knows me. His ways are deeper and higher. His soil is richer.

Know Him, know the best version of you.

Also on Monday, I discovered I have 820 blog posts out in the world.

I have no desire to perform any sort of comparative analysis of me when I began and the me I am now.

I sure hope I’ve stayed honest through them all, that if I leaned toward know it all or cutesy commentary that the handful of readers gave me mercy back then.

And the ones who hung around when I wrote about loving the sky and the sounds of the birds.

No worries, that Lisa Anne is still here.

Here on this Wednesday when I’m at a loss over what to do for an income.

No set vocation and it’s noon and my husband just stood in the doorway to say…”You’re still in your pajamas…”

He smiled when I answered “Yes, things are not coming together again today.”

Strangely for him, he offered no suggestion. He let it rest.

And as he left the room to cut grass or hedges I reminded myself the third day in a row, you’ve done your part, just wait for God to take it wherever it is meant to go.

To grow.

Grace Awaits

confidence, contentment, courage, curiousity, Faith, family, grace, hope, Labradors, memoir, mercy, obedience, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting

We walked in the heat and kept going until we found shade.

We didn’t stop to rest.

Colt, my “grand dog”

We kept going because we know the pattern. We know where there is sun there will be shade.

We kept walking because the grassy field borders the man made trail, the one where the strong roots are revealing their tenacity.

They’ve broken through as if knowing it will cause our steps to favor the earth, the grass.

To remind us, it is hard here; nevertheless, the soft places remain.

“For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.”

‭‭John‬ ‭1:16‬ ‭ESV‬‬

The old hymn with the sway in its notes

Reminds me of an old chair moaning as I rock.

I’m sitting on a big back porch and the breeze although warm too early this year is steady and sweeps softly on my cheek.

The chair is old.

I want to repair it, have it dressed in new fabric, have someone who knows how make the seat and back not so noisy from the pressure of its sitter.

Still, it allows my sitting, it allows me to settle there and it tests my tolerance for the noise unpleasantly necessary.

I could sit still, I could not encourage the back push and the forward pull of the place behind my knees that leads to the rocking.

But, I don’t.

I sit in my aunt’s old hand me down chair and I rock.

And it allows me to continue there.

Grace is that way.

Grace knows we might be annoyed by things and others that we keep responding to in the way that causes even more annoyance.

Grace waits for us to settle down, stop the thing we do that brings frustrations we could so easily let go.

Or accept them and notice less the noise and more the joy.

Grace awaits.

It never leaves us.

Grace stays.

Continue and believe.

Linking up with other story tellers here:

https://marygeisen.com/lights-out-when-fear-is-like-a-switch/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=lights-out-when-fear-is-like-a-switch

These thoughts on fear are so very true!

Secrets and Growth and Peace

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, family, fear, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, hope, memoir, mercy, obedience, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Serving, surrender, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

I believe God is pleased that we think of Him, ponder, consider His ways.

“Does not wisdom call out? Does not understanding raise her voice?”

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭8:1‬ ‭NIV‬‬

That’s just another example of His grace.

I believe God sees our gradual growth and celebrates rather than pontificates over why on earth has it taken her so long to arrive here, why can’t she stay in this place?

I believe God is simply happy to see our return, our return to believing that He knows.

I’m certain that morning is the most optimum time for gentle instruction.

I’ve not a clue as to why I woke up this morning with the question to myself.

How are you waking, with regret or redemption?

Why, oh why must I wake with such deep considerations?

Or maybe we all do, just keep them to ourselves.

Makes good sense, your brain filters your thoughts all through the night, transfers them to the place where the finished and important product, a lesson is delivered.

Voila’! Here you go! This message is just for you! God

Are you smiling now, imagining God saying “Voila'”?

Me too.

I think sometimes I think the oddest things and then realize there is always a reason.

A secret waiting to be revealed.

To be researched, to be determined what it is exactly God wants me to know, to hold on to as my own.

Wants me to u-turn, don’t go back that way, you were progressing, see now…stay here.

Be at peace.

“For God is not a God of confusion but of peace.

‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭14:33‬ ‭ ESV

Someone called this morning by accident. Her Bluetooth dialed the wrong Lisa. I knew her voice, thought Lord have mercy, did I call her and forget I did?!

But, I hadn’t and she reminded me of our relationship which led to me telling her what I’m doing now, hoping to use my grant writing skills to work with causes I believe in.

And that led to her telling me she had “chills” now because of an idea she has to strengthen the cause she is over.

We talked about it further and even longer about our faith, about how God wakes us to new opportunities every day and how none of them are accidents.

I considered her truth.

She considered mine as I shared with her my waking thought, regret or redemption, which will you choose to frame your day?

She said “Oh, that’s wise.” “Thanks”, I said and thought, thank you God for this confirmation of my next steps and direction.

Of letting some things go unattended to give my energy to what is new, even unseen, sort of brewing.

So, what is this state of mind and heart called “spiritual maturity”?

It is waking with regret less often in light of your redemption.

It is waking with the clear and attainable path towards peace.

It is recalling the stuff you felt God telling you to do afraid even if there’s fear in the room because there’s a reason you don’t know that God wants you to go, to be something He sees as necessary for others in the room.

He has us go places we don’t understand.

It is being attentive to a nudge that becomes a lengthy pause because you are still enough to become more wise, to receive either good or disappointing clarity so that your peace is not stolen and so that you grow.

That’s redemption, my friend.

Understanding what it is that is the taker of and opposing force of your peace.

Spiritual maturity is a splendid and secretly personal gift.

It is a fervent fire inside kept alive by your yearning to learn more, know more of God.

It is an acknowledgment of better days, contented minds, and restful nights because of your redemptive choice to forgo regret.

It is knowing you are still growing. It is glimpses of the secret place, the view of you through God’s eyes.

Smile.

It is not always easy, nor is it difficult at all.

The secret for me, intentional choosing which thoughts I allow to write scary, hurtful and impossible to understand stories.

“For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace.”

‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:6‬ ‭ESV‬‬

To set my mind on the awakening things of my mornings.

Lord, help me to stay quiet enough to know which way to stay my thoughts and which way my words and work should go. Because of your redemptive mercy towards me, Amen

Thoughts on Heaven and Mamas

Abuse Survivor, Angels, Art, birds, Children, courage, daughters, family, Forgiveness, grace, grief, memoir, Mother’s Day, Motherhood, Peace, Prayer, sons, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, writing

This morning I cleaned out my “Saves” on Facebook, stuff I thought I may read later, there were over 50 various things I considered useful at the time.

Same old same, healing from trauma, posts about family, even more expert recommendations to grow my blog, have my voice heard, write the book, don’t give up…

I deleted almost all. I have to be honest, I am on writerly advice overload.

At the bottom was a note, the Facebook kind, I suppose my idea of blogging before I blogged and it was called 30 Randoms…things I’ve learned since mama died.

It is a list compiled 10 years ago come November.

Much of it is the same.

I suppose the ache began when someone said change your profile pic to your mom’s, one of those FB things that make you either go along or rebel.

I rebelled in a kind of pitiful, mulling over pondering way, my way.

I don’t have a photo I haven’t shared before and the one I have is dated and it doesn’t portray the mama I want to portray.

Grief changes its hold on you over time.

I miss my mama, see the cardinals all the time that say she is near.

I’m afraid though it’s simply not enough. Well meaning people will say oh she sees you, she’s looking down and you stand silent like a big dumb block not replying to their little kind words or something to say remedy.

I believe my mama is in heaven; but, I do not fully understand what it’s like for her there.

Possibly her spirit still lingers near me, possibly it’s my memory and longing for her involvement that manufactures this comfort and assurance for me.

Here we are over 10 years and there’s so much she should know.

Updated here are 30 randoms I’m offering up as prayers to heaven in hopes that someone else up there runs out to find you and you sit together and you laugh and cry happy heavenly tears over what is going on, how we’re doing without you and daddy down here:

1. The grandchildren are something else altogether and individually, they are just enough you to be stubborn and outspoken and often irreverently rebellious in being themselves!

2. We are all still married to the ones you saw us with before you passed away.

3. Baby Brown is due any moment of a very soon day. This will mean three great grands. Our home has a baby room.

4. Your grandsons are strong, just enough cockiness of your daddy cushioned by the gentle handsome ways of our daddy.

5. I left my job that was destroying my health. I am an artist. I get “pissy” and I’m sure have a certain look when someone says a painting is “cute”.

6. I am a writer. I will be going by “grandma” just like you and I will be helping my daughter with her baby, just like you.

7. I am less afraid but still prefer to stay hidden.

8. I left the church that made me feel I’d never be enough.

9. I sit every morning with my Bible, a pencil and a memorandum book.

10. When I’m sad or angry or anxious, I clean the whole house, rearrange stuff.

11. People call me an open book. I reply with only certain stories.

12. I reunited with Melanie and revisited the times I fell apart and she helped you and daddy hold me together.

13. I regret going home the night you passed away.

14. I understand you probably wanted it this way.

15. I love Jesus the way you lived it, love everyone the best you can, not more than you should to those who love themselves so much they don’t need yours.

16. Be kind to your husband, as he ages you become everything to him.

17. Love a dog, this love will sustain you.

18. Love food, not its control over you.

19. Delicious things are only delicious if savored not embellished or used to satiate empty bottomless places.

20. Accept God’s grace.

21. Being pitiful is not pretty or permitted.

22. Wear more red. Paint your toenails red, learn to wear a hat.

23. Don’t stress.

24. Stress will kill you. (I’ve told you before, Lisa Anne).

25. I’m going by Lisa Anne now mama, occasionally “LT”.

26. I sold three paintings last week and I gave one expensive one away.

27. One painting found a new home, it was inspired by your high school photo and I called it “Heaven Meets Earth”.

28. Today, I will believe there are better days ahead, I’ll not long as much to have you here to have your hand touch mine, to see your face when you see ours.

29. Today, I’ve decided I’ll ask again and if you’re listening, maybe you can soften the way. For Mother’s Day, I want a dog.

Yes, how fitting, how perfect, how precious it will be. A puppy or a rescue, a new home with me to represent and honor you. Yes, I’ve decided, I’ll ask again.

Don’t you think it’s time, Greg? Time for us to get a dog? If not now he might say soon and I’ll let it go, trust it’s just not a good time.

30. Better now, I’m better. Grief is a mystery and an unexplainable thing. Words from others who don’t truly know are better left unsaid.

There’s really no right response other than remembering.

When Mother’s Day is without a mom, a mother, an outspoken and gone too soon mama!

The greatest gift is to allow all of the remembering you can stand!

P.S. I joined the Artist Guild and there’s an exhibit tonight I don’t think I’ll be attending. One, possibly two of my pieces will be displayed. Some artists will have ribbons on their works. I’m not going because I still don’t care for spotlights or attention.

Remember the time you and daddy drove four hours because a piece I created was chosen for a blue ribbon?

I remember it well and the years that followed dulled my shine and the gift of your being there.

So, if I didn’t say so then, thank you for telling me back then that it was possible,

I could become an artist according to you!

I finally believe you.

Happy Mother’s Day. I feel you near, do not fully understand it, I do believe you have become an angel.

Lisa Anne

Stubborn Minded Me

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, curiousity, Faith, family, freedom, grace, love, memoir, mercy, Peace, Prayer, pride, Redemption, Stillness, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

“He made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed.

Then they were glad that the waters were quiet,

He brought them to their desired haven.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭107:29-30‬ ‭ESV‬‬

My daddy used to say I would argue with a stump, I was as stubborn as they came. I wanted to have the last word.

Quiet child who watched and only spoke up when I saw something wrong or someone about to be wronged…maybe, me.

That quiet stubbornness got silenced and I lost my voice for a long time, lost my defense mechanism, my stubborn belief that it mattered, pointing out right over wrong.

Now that I’ve found it again, my challenge is to appropriately use it, pull it back, keep it reeled in, learn to control it.

Not allow it to control me.

Stubborn me doesn’t wait well, I want to jump up and tackle wrong to the ground, demand an answer for whatever anxiety it has caused.

Even if the anxiety is oh so small. At least I’m self aware.

I’m losing it slowly, the need to anticipate wrong, letting go the power of my manipulative mind set on preparation and safety of my mind and soul.

I ask why of others less often. I wait to be shown not told.

To be shown there was no threat after all, there was never a plot to harm you being calculated while you looked away.

It was just your imagination running away with you.

I’m an Enneagram 4 (Romantic) with a 5 (Observer) wing. I’m no expert on this popular assessment that so many are embracing.

I assure you though, the test got this right with me!

I write vivid stories. I romanticize right or wrong depending upon my careful and constant observation.

My personality traits can work for or against me.

Today, I’m leaning towards the “for”.

Because I almost picked it back up yesterday and then again this morning. I wanted to confront, stomp my feet and ask why someone responded to me in such a way I didn’t deserve.

They most likely have forgotten by now and there’s really no need to know.

It is over. Let it go.

I sat in the quiet with wisdom all around me, the Psalms of David, the integrity of Job, the quiet worship of Mary.

I told myself if there is asking of why,

Ask God.

The answer will come when it does or it may never come at all, just the need to know taken gently away, eased from the shelf I’ve set it down on waiting to be picked back up again.

I won’t miss it. God will replace it with new things.

Things like a settled mind, a sense of Him.

Ask God and wait for His peaceful reply.

It will not likely come until you’ve shut down the chatter in your analytically bitter and questioning mind.

The answer more sufficiently simple than all the “romantical” conjuring and contriving of explanations your mind could ever tell.

God will be thrilled by our return to Him, He waits for the forfeiting of our frustrated rationalizations for the freedom of His will and His way.

He welcomes our questions.

Ask God.

Settle your stubborn mind.

Find rest for your soul.

He is jealous for me. Love’s like a hurricane, I am a tree, bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy. When all of a sudden I am unaware of this affliction eclipsed by glory…David Crowder, How He Loves

Oh, how he loves us!

I’m linking up with others who are telling stories that God gives them to share. Join in here: Tell His Story

Gonna Be Okay

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, family, fear, hope, memoir, Motherhood, obedience, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Serving, Trust, Truth, Unity, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

It may be just me.

I caught just a bit of the Billboard Music Awards last night.

Flipping channels and asking myself, why do I even watch television anymore? I’m out of so many loops, especially those about thrones and people who walk around dead.

I’ll watch “A Chef’s Table” fascinated by the stories of phenomenal cooks or HGTV, try to guess which house they choose.

I am drawn to seeing a little of people, somehow drawn to knowing them from their facial expression or their conversation.

I’ve always been this way.

So, I paused in my channel flipping.

Kelly Clarkson announced that Lauren Daigle would be next to perform her breakout crossover hit, “You Say”.

It’s a song really for everyone and I abhor conflict so I’m not too fixated on how people are angry over her crossing over in lots of ways and in places she’s been invited to sing her song.

Her song is an anthem, one meant for all.

So, I watched and listened as her voice began, coming in at the right time prompted by the crystalline sounding piano intro.

She started softly, a little reserved or nervous.

Shaky it seemed she was.

It was a live performance and it seemed to me she felt a bit hemmed in.

Awkward even as she continued.

She continued into the chorus backed by three singers who as they added their echo their reply to her “and I believe!” , their arms raised up in rhymes, like a self embrace.

They, it seemed were each owning, demonstrating and saying to the world.

I believe.

As she continued she grew stronger it seemed to me, more free, more her and more confident of her calling on this different than her usual stage.

I scanned the audience. Many were connected to her performance. Other faces seemed not to understand, either questioning what is the message of this song or

Maybe they felt a sense of being loved by her being there, her singing her song she is now known for.

“So now I am giving you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other.”

‭‭John‬ ‭13:34‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Maybe there were cynics. Maybe there were those who had no idea who and what she was referring to when she sang her statement lines:

Taking all I have now and I’m laying it at your feet. You have every failure God, you’ll have every victory.

Maybe some wondered what in the world does that mean?

Or wait, I thought this song was about believing in yourself or having a relationship with someone who says you should.

It does.

The song ended with an noticeable “ohh” in Lauren Daigle’s raspy tone.

It was a worthy ending as if to say, from my perspective at least, I’ve done this God.

I’ve performed the song you gave me on this huge scary stage.

I have gotten through this. I was scared as I started; but, you helped me through.

You helped me continue and finish the thing you aligned for me to do.

Maybe others didn’t see what I saw. That’s okay, I was impacted by her presence and her performance.

In case you’ve not heard or need to be reminded, here it is:

You Say

Prompted me to know I’ll be put in places I might be afraid to go.

I will go.

God will be with me.

It’s gonna be okay.

A couple of weeks ago I was asked to pray the prayer for families at this evening’s National Day of Prayer event. I was asked I was told because of my lifetime of working with families.

I do not know what my prayer will be. I am imperfect in my own family experiences. I could freeze as I’m introduced, thinking what if everyone knows how I haven’t always been a prayerful girl, mama, wife or woman? I could have the words choke me when I try to summon them up. I’ve been a single mama, not always the best one at it.

But, just like Lauren, God sets the stage, we just step forward.

About a month ago, I was interviewed by a local magazine about my choice to retire. The question was posed “What do you want your grandchild to know?”

I answered

I want my grandchild to know that the most important thing is love, is loving one another.

A couple of weeks later the request came, that I pray the prayer for families. It was followed by a letter with the agenda and the header on the letter featuring 2019’s theme.

Love one another.

There are no accidents with God.

There are no opportunities brought our way that He will not equip us to carry out.

You and I are loved by a loving God. A God that takes hold of our shaking hand until we can breath without pressure and waits until we are ready to speak, to sing, to pray.

I believe what you say of me!

It’s gonna be okay.

The Gift of Memory

Angels, bravery, Children, confidence, contentment, courage, daughters, Faith, family, grace, hope, memoir, mercy, obedience, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Stillness, surrender, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

A friend is praying that God would give me memory.

I’ve lost something I haven’t needed in years and I cannot find it, my college diploma.

Yesterday, my pregnant daughter asked if I remembered a certain pain and I didn’t, so I blamed it on one thing I did remember harshly…when it was actually another, my lack of memory,

Then told her it’s true what they say.

You don’t remember the pain once your baby is here.

I’m wondering if my friend’s prayers are stirring my memories as a whole, of all sorts of things.

I woke with first thought, prayer.

God, help me to know you more.

There are disjointed possibilities in my life, a new one popped up yesterday. I gotta circle back around, finish multiple things, my mind and plans chaotic over stuff begun and not finished

My thoughts are all over the place.

I make the coffee, open the door for fresh air and I remember.

“If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him.”

‭‭James‬ ‭1:5‬ ‭ESV‬‬

An elderly couple lived below us, my younger brother and me. We were not quiet apartment dwellers. We were single and in our 20’s. We frequented “River Street” in Savannah and found our way back home safely, how?

God only knows.

I watched them on Sundays, they’d come and go clutching Bibles, holding hands.

I avoided them in my comings and goings until one day in the stairwell, I came face to face with the husband, a sharply dressed gentleman.

I asked, “How can I know God’s will?”

He answered simply, “Know God.”

That was two decades ago and his answer left me hanging, left me lacking not longing. I wanted so much more than an answer so broad.

I desired a quick list or an easy plan.

I wanted it “one and done” for me, quickly fix me, God, I know you can!

Perfection, I yearned for, had no understanding of grace, God’s patience, His allowance of progression.

How in the world could we imagine God’s will as only quick when, after all, He has us and the whole world in His hands? He orders our seconds, minutes, hours and days. Their unfolding, He knows.

I understand the simplicity yet mystery now.

His pursuit of me is graceful and grace-filled.

There’s no end road to knowing God’s will.

It is a beautiful unraveling, a revealing of splendor and clarity and abundance as we go.

As we go unaffected by our daze and confusion only illumined by His spirit, His dwelling within us.

How do we know God’s will? I believe we remain quietly intent in our pursuit of Him.

He knows. Just ask Him.

God is everywhere. Don’t forget to notice. me

Linking up today with others at Five Minute Friday who are writing on the prompt “Lack”. https://fiveminutefriday.com/2019/04/11/fmf-writing-prompt-link-up-lack/

Funny, sort of.

bravery, courage, daughters, doubt, family, fear, freedom, happy, hope, Motherhood, Stillness, Vulnerability, waiting, writing

She found the recipe.

“Grandma Bette’s Pound Cake” and I shared the preparations on Instagram, adding I’ve been sentimental of late.

Someone asked what that means. I said it’s just another way to say lately.

I said I love words and she said okay.

She is my daughter and she’s a better cook than me.

Better at a whole lot of things.

I don’t know what’s next for me.

I wrote today, bought art supplies and redecorated some rooms.

The cake is in the oven.

The sun is almost gone.

I worried earlier about how I’m gonna make it without my job.

Then realized I have days like today to figure it out.

Finally, perhaps live in a way that looks like “my happy way of life”.

Possibly.

Yes, possibly.

Wow.