You see someone you know, it’s a happy and welcoming exchange.
There’s a little chuckle, there’s natural conversation and an I know you it’s okay exchange.
Then they say, I see a change.
I see you changing.
And you smile, you smile and your smile must surely be a bright beam of light towards the one you know, the one who knew you
You smile because you thought you were the only one who knew.
Truly, I can’t think of a word more beautiful than belief.
It is synonymous with so many good things.
Unbelief on the other hand pops up and asks ugly things like, Are you sure? What are you thinking?
What will people think?
How on earth will you be able? What makes you think you can?
I thought the oddest thought as I walked into the post office yesterday. It crept up and seemed sincere.
What you persist in will cause others to persecute you. What you continue to believe God is calling you to do will be doubted by others.
I googled persecution and I don’t think it’s quite that bad, the reactions of others, cynicism masked as concern.
I’m certain though, that it is meant to curtail my continuing.
Unbelief from others feels like a low grade persecution, a pointing out of faults, a resistance of acceptance and unbelief is really just fear.
Unbelief is insidious, Lord help me stop its spread.
Catch it quick, stomp out its embers,
Don’t let it let me burn only briefly and then slowly fade!
“The father instantly cried out, “I do believe, but help me overcome my unbelief!”
Mark 9:24 NLT
I’ve made some decisions and haven’t turned back, took some chances and opportunities recently, things that are teaching me that not everything comes by chance.
Fortune shines on others more than me and
Oh well, it wasn’t meant to be…these were the truths I believed.
Being a believer of a God who is sovereign, who is in control, led to my conclusion that only just enough good could be for me and that as a believer in sovereignty I must surely stay in my place, must not seek more than a little, must stay anchored by doubt and by fear of failure, not trying at all because of the unlikelihood of success.
I intentionally handicap myself.
I’m beginning to learn from my children, adults who have most likely seen this in me all along but never called me on it, accepted my ways for this long.
I wonder how it feels for a child to see a parent finally coming into their own?
Close to 60 years old and becoming strong?
I wonder if they realize in their own way, they helped me here.
To this season of wanting my legacy to be more than the timid and tentative mama, they may have always known. The one whose thoughts were always deep and bent towards worry.
Here now because I want their faith in God and His goodness to be strong.
Several months ago, I lost control.
Headed towards an important event, we were “T-boned” by a crossing car and my car jumped it seemed into the deep ditch and the front end was crushed by a timely positioned pine.
The Labrador, my husband and me. He jumped from the passenger side and I screamed loud and long. It was a very odd and out of control sounding cry. It was fear.
My daughter answered her phone.
“Mama, are you okay? You are okay. You are okay. Now, stop crying, just breathe and calm down.
You’re okay.
Calm down.”
She called her brother. He called me.
Same reaction, the same level tone in a child of mine’s adult voice. It was the same assurance, same calm.
Control what you can control. my son
Months have passed and changes have been made, changes are on the brink of being announced, career, home, and faith.
Changes are taking place.
Last night, I gave up on watching “Ozark”. Intrigued by the young actor with the authentic twang, I told myself to try it again, watch something that at least causes thought.
Fifteen minutes later, I switch to a Julia Roberts movie simply because she’s beautiful and required less attention.
Told my husband I couldn’t watch, don’t want to go to bed with those thoughts.
Still, I was startled awake before light and had to shake off a horrific dream. I knew it was partly me to blame. I watched the gory scene, heard the horrific words, saw the actor’s fear and grief and evil exchanged.
I went over my average daily screen time. I ate extra spicy food and then had red wine and then topped it off with chocolate milk, Advil and crunchy peanut butter on a spoon.
I recalled the nightmare to forget and move forward. Remembering times before. I had the damaged perception to believe that bad dreams were God sent messages to me.
Messages like you’re still that wild and mistake making girl, you’re still the too attractive and easy for your own good young woman, you’re still the poor girl in the ill-fitting tops, you’re still the fat middle schooler in your brother’s husky jeans.
You’re still the woman in the pew unwelcome by the women who are already there.
I don’t think nightmares are for anyone’s good. If there’s nothing else I can control today, I will control this new truth, this new optimistic conclusion.
And I will carry it into my day, I am no longer living the trauma victim way.
“Thereafter, Hagar used another name to refer to the Lord, who had spoken to her. She said, “You are the God who sees me.” She also said, “Have I truly seen the One who sees me?”
Genesis 16:13 NLT
Hagar was a slave girl who followed along with circumstances that caused her to carry a label we today would most likely call “whore”.
I can barely type the word. You see, I’ve been called that before.
In the nightmare last night, I revisited that woman of before; but, she ran, ran, ran ironically away from a church and through the streets to find herself alone in prayer, her face to the floor.
She found God there.
She rose and she walked freely, more freely than before.
What mindsets have held you captive?
You are never in God’s eyes the person you were before.
If you have experiences that lead to nightmares, don’t succumb to the belief that these bad dreams are your restitution for your bad before.
Use the sense that God gave you. Combine it with good and trustworthy therapy and then add in what you know. Know what God knows and can control and then assert yourself to control
What you can control.
Your “resurrection power”, your “freedom living on the inside”.
You called me from the grave by name
You called me out of all my shame
I see the old has passed away
The new has come! Chris Tomlin
Be found in your wilderness, come forward to be seen and to be fully known.
My morning will not be boisterous with unwrapping, celebration won’t come until later.
Children are adults and we’re laid back and flexible, open and accepting. I’m anticipating the day, anticipating spirited appearances, nuanced moments of Jesus in it.
The angels told the shepherds not to be afraid when God’s glory illuminated the sky, an announcement of a Savior.
And Luke ends his beautifully researched compilation with the words of Jesus, again saying fear is something you should never feel.
Of what are you afraid today?
Why are you frightened?” he asked. “Why are your hearts filled with doubt? Luke 24:38 NLT
What are you doubting on Christmas morning?
Everything changes at Christmas except for Jesus.
Jesus stays the same, do not be afraid.
Merry Christmas to you.
Do new things, you can and you will, I’m remembering now my mama, she came to me last night in a dream.
Angelic, she was as she waited for me and without a word guided my continuing, gave approval of my plans.
Finally fading into the distance after nodding, smiling, giving her okay of who I am.
A beautiful vision, angelic it seemed.
Do not fear, Lisa Anne. Do not be afraid.
Merry Christmas to you.
Merry Christmas to me!
God With Us
The rain is falling so lightly now. A minute ago, I opened the back door and there was a warm encircling wind.
Now, I’m so in love with this moment, this moment beside the Christmas tree, the rain coming down again like yesterday.
Different rain than the unceasing one of Thursday. This one, I welcome, I feel it is a cleansing rain.
The geese are flying over, my mama would say, “Here they come.”
Yes, mama I know, today is a new day.
I’m fixated on the silence now I am again serene, I am aware of God with me.
Yesterday’s morning post ended with me thinking of the name, Immanuel, a name of Jesus, “God with us”.
Last night, I told someone I just felt a “darkness” coming down. I had finally settled on what my “one more thing” gifts would be for my children. I abandoned the thought of the grandstanding gifts of excessive and chose the more simple, the needed, the essential.
I sometimes overcompensate. I worry they’re not quite completely sure of my love, or of me.
Shopping was interrupted by a crisis call, 911 had to be called and the response to the crisis and our connection to the one who disrupted our day in a violent demand went on into the night.
There was prayer, prayer alone and prayer with another and prayer coupled with setting boundaries of providing insight to the ER. That is my role.
That is all, I told another and told myself.
I’m not called to rescue, only to provide a way through which many times is to step away, not be the depended upon rescue.
I am satisfied. I’ve done all I can.
Now, I’m thinking of where God was in all of this occurring. Only after the fact am I realizing I should have slowed down, been less frantic and fearful and frustrated.
I wish I had simply paused and breathed deeply in, let my shallow air linger in my lungs and wait, wait, to let my soul override my mind and know without a doubt, He knows, He sees.
He is with us. He is in control.
Love is the life of faith; obedience the life of love. Yea, rather, Christ Himself is the life of the soul. Edward B. Pusey, Joy and Strength devotional
I’m nearing the chapters describing Jesus’ death. In this experience of reading through Luke, I am being reminded of the purpose of His birth, the intention of God in all His son did while he walked on earth.
In Chapter 20, Luke records the questioning of Jesus, the discussions and debates over His authority. They were worried their kingdoms might topple, that the ones they considered their rulers might lose their esteem or that they, the rulers themselves might lose their lofty positions.
“And they were not able in the presence of the people to catch him in what he said, but marveling at his answer they became silent.”
Luke 20:26 ESV
They heard Jesus teach with parables and discerned His lesson as a criticism of them. They sent spies to pretend they believed and would follow, only to try and catch him or to convince themselves they were okay, had no need of Him, could stay aligned with Caesar.
Like today, they made complicated what God planned to be simplicity in our belief. Not all of them but some decided to accept, to stop their disbelief,even though they were not yet certain of what was to come, what would clearly justify their belief.
“Then some of the scribes answered, “Teacher, you have spoken well.” For they no longer dared to ask him any question.”
Luke 20:39-40
When we believe God is with us, we’re less prone to question. When we return to the places we know we have found Him before, He will still be there.
An opened hand to heaven before my feet hit the floor, the warm wind before the rain begins, yes, He was there.
I’ve seen You move, come move the mountains
And I believe, I’ll see You do it again
You made a way, where there was no way
And I believe, I’ll see You do it again. Elevation Music
Your promise stands, sustain me longer than my mornings. I’m so very certain, you are near.
The Time of Becoming
Advent: arrival, appearance, emergence or occurrence, the arrival of a notable person or thing.
What are you waiting for, still?
What is the light at the end of the way that you keep pursuing, going towards?
Like the shepherds followed a star, is there a possibility you hope to see still?
My word for 2018 has been “still”. In the beginning, it represented a courageous decision to pursue a certain writing goal.
That I could still, it wasn’t too late.
I’m still writing; but, changes came my way and my book idea will never be the same.
I’m in the phase of stillness, resting and listening to know, which way God, do you want me to go?”
Tell me what to say, Lord.
Continuing in the Book of Luke today, another chapter full of guidance and illustration, historical retelling of what Jesus did before he died.
My spirit has been a little weary, thoughts around trauma trying to take over. I’m recalling today that this is the year I, with the help of some strong therapy, decided I could live healed, that I could let go and be healed.
The year it became my choice to forgive.
My friend said yesterday, that evil still comes back to try to play.
I think she’s quite right, it’s Advent, the season of light and peace, it’s only natural evil creeps in, shows up even louder, harder, mean and determined.
Has to, it is harder now than before to take my peace away. I’m no longer disabled.
“When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said to her, “Woman, you are freed from your disability.” And he laid his hands on her, and immediately she was made straight, and she glorified God.”
Luke 13:12-13 ESV
Able to seek light and freedom, to not revisit the darkness.
To God be the glory for my emergence year, still.
Becoming me.
I’m linking up with others here at Five Minute Friday, prompted by the word, “Still”.
http://fiveminutefriday.com/2018/12/13/fmf-link-up-still/
No Fear Now
Yesterday, the birds were gathering outside the window. I saw their shadows and the way they intersected the sun, a flash and dimming of the light coming in.
I didn’t turn to watch them, I missed their morning dance.
Instead, I was intent on the details, I was recording my fear. There were three nightmares and three pages of journal, trying to decipher the power and realistic terror of each of them.
Now, they’ve faded away, their scariness has passed and their power over my day, finally waned.
Jesus, God’s Son came to eliminate our fears. There’s no fear in love and His love came to take away our fears.
He told the disciples to fear one thing, evil, the authority that keeps us in fear, tries hard to keep our thoughts from heaven, to cast us into Hell.
To keep us kept by our nightmares, our minds pulling out the bad stuff in our sleep and it dancing dirty dances all night long. It is crazy, evil’s power making buried stuff come out to play, to mess with our peace , to derail our good days.
It is evil.
Jesus said fear is never from me, be assured, you’re worth so much to me.
“Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? And not one of them is forgotten before God. Why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not; you are of more value than many sparrows.” Luke 12:6-7 ESV
There’s no fear in love.
Grief, like a terrible nightmare makes me afraid, a different and try as I might, unavoidable afraid.
Christmas comes with grief. It would be wrong not to long for those we lost; yet, that longing turns to sadness. We imagine times when we’d all love to just sit around and laugh and be happy over our happy times with those we miss, those we loved. It’s not that simple, that simplifying of grief.
All the more reason to draw near to Jesus, no masks are worn in His presence. He alone sees our anxious and sad, pretending not to be, hearts.
Do not be afraid. He knows grief sometimes feels like fear.
“”Fear not, little flock.”
Luke 12:32 ESV
No one ever told me grief felt so like fear. C.S. Lewis
I avoided the dancing birds. I was hoping not to see the red bird. I longed to see them most days, but, for a little while I felt different than before.
The bird rushing past my work window, a flash of brilliant red or the subdued female hue, I looked away.
This time avoiding the reminder that it’s not really you, only symbolic of you, my father and my mother.
I’ll see them again I know and I’ll accept the gift of their appearing.
A gift of love, a gift that holds no fear.
If I listen closely I might hear “Stop being afraid, Lisa Anne” and I may see my daddy looking over at her before nodding a yes, quietly and simply nodding “yes”.
Always, yes.
I couldn’t guess if I tried how many bloggers are out there with words floating all about.
Occasional assertions like a “calling” to write or an unwavering assurance or this I must do. I must write.
Like so many other things, we’ve a sense of celebrity to it, we read what the successful ones publish, we lean in and listen, we get enthused with the possibilities or we slink away when the reality of luck and timing and perseverance cause us to crash.
I heard today that about 85% of people have ideas, believe their life contains a story that could be a book.
Yesterday, I came home from church and I read the words of Paul. I considered writing only momentarily. I rested instead and considered giving up my blog, print all of my favorite posts first and stack the stack of stories atop my desk and eventually pack away in a drawer.
But, here I am. I’ve returned.
I changed my tagline because someone skilled in blog traffic and “search speak” assessed my site last week.
Why not, I thought and then like an optimistic student hoping for a B, I was deflated, my report came back with the number 72, a D!
I added grace to my tagline, really just shuffled the letters in the line. Least I could do, the only thing I understand how to do.
I’m learning. I need to be open to the shifts, the sways, the steady steps forward. I need to grow.
Yesterday, about the time it is now, I sat alone at home with the dog at my feet.
The sun was warming the edge of the sofa and my Bible on the arm.
Today was different. 4:30 in the afternoon and it was dark and grey.
Raining, cold.
A writing task abandoned, I felt so little like a writer. Feels unlikely, this thing I thought I might do. So, I’m pushing back.
I tidied up my space, let the next tutorial pause a quarter way in.
Two sheets of lined legal pad are filled with potentially captivating titles, subtitles, notes and asterisks.
I put it away and stopped and thought again, you’ll soon be 60, you’ve been talking about this and refusing to give it up since almost three years ago.
I’ve got notes from church yesterday rewritten twice in three places today.
Most likely I’ll be writing them again.
It’s not trying harder. It’s surrender.
Share your story, yes.
Who you were and who you are.
But, mostly notice and follow what the Holy Spirit shows and tells you.
There is something in me that is greater than me.
I didn’t nap yesterday, I read Romans 8 instead.
I have no idea if a book is in me. I thought I surely knew before.
But, I never surrendered the outcome, the beginning nor the end.
I never asked God directly.
I never, in fact even asked at all.
God, is it your will that I write?
A book?
A book that I already gave a title, named and numbered the chapters, and planned the dedication?
I’m asking now.
And I’m not trying as hard.
I promise.
I surrender my words either stacked up in sheets or bound together in a book, my name across the bottom.
I pray you will help me, God, teach me to be content either way.
“Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.”
Philippians 4:11 ESV
It occurred to me yesterday what a joy my blog is to me. I thought of the feeling when thoughts become words just descriptively fine and I’ve cherished the kind words in comments.
I thought of how sweet it’s been realizing thus far it has been all me.
I paused with the idea of what might be. What might be bolder, sweeter, truer when it’s not just me; but, the power, the power of the Holy Spirit in and through me.
Coming through my words, surrendered for his purpose.
“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.”
Romans 8:28 ESV
I’m curious and excited now, surrendered to his purpose.
We shall see.
Last Sunday, I said to myself, I miss the reverence of church.
I wasn’t looking for justification to just stay home.
Because the pieces and experiences I miss are not the popular way…are not really the way of our world now, the “world world” or it seems sometimes to me, the “Faith world”.
I’ve been conflicted, in a season of bending while longing to belong again.
There is a trend, my friend, a preacher’s daughter and I agreed.
People are not going to church.
We know it’s not good.
For us or for them.
This friend whose daddy has long passed, this friend who I rarely hear her call her daddy “daddy”, always calls him “Reverend Harper”.
I’m smiling, I see her reverence for him, her daddy and her Heavenly Father.
This morning I feel burdened because I feel so different.
Like thorns among the roses wet with rain, I’m particular in my picking of the right words to say.
I read a thread of replies on Twitter prompted by a young woman’s boasting of leaving the F***ing church of her childhood.
The church that held the memory of her favorite song back then, “They’ll know We are Christians by our Love”.
Several comments followed in agreement with her over her courage to leave the church that she felt never truly loved others, maybe encouraged judgment and hate.
I know that church, I’ve been there amongst the fear promoters and the stone throwers.
I rejected it too.
But, I’m burdened because I don’t think it’s good to use obscenities in the same sentences with God, or love for that matter.
To say so here feels bold, bold in that belief.
We can love boldly and be obedient boldly, I think this is the key.
I am bending, I am less resistant to other than what I’ve always known.
Requirements, though, I still need them.
Need them firmly spoken to me, answers when I ask for the way.
He led me here today.
“Joyful are people of integrity, who follow the instructions of the Lord. Joyful are those who obey his laws and search for him with all their hearts.
They do not compromise with evil, and they walk only in his paths.
You have charged us to keep your commandments carefully.
Oh, that my actions would consistently reflect your decrees!”
Psalms 119:1-5 NLT
I went to church last week.
I heard a gentle nudging saying, No, you need to go, you need to go for YOU.
And I thought on the way over about the loud music, how I missed the quiet days when the children never made a sound and when people weren’t sitting down with their latte cups
When you could hear the hushing sounds of mamas and the clink of the coins and dropping of dollars, tiny noises during the offertory hymn.
An atmosphere that made listening easy, pleasant, required little of me.
I thought of all of this and sat down next to my pretty girl who offered a vanilla latte and then, the lights, the loud welcome of the band, the crescendo.
Seconds before and as clear, clear as a bell, I thought.
What you resist most is what you need most.
And I was different from that moment, the way I took it in, accepted you might say.
I sang, I opened my heart and I sang, softly.
This season of un-belonging, of conflicted resistance, is changing, slowly shifting.
I still believe in requirements. I still need them to know and grow.
I’ll ask God to show me what I need, to point out my resistance, to enlarge my heart to be more willing and open, to grow.
Let go.
“Open my eyes to see the wonderful truths in your instructions. I am only a foreigner in the land. Don’t hide your commands from me!”
Psalms 119:18-19 NLT
Linking up for FMF, prompted by the word “burden” which means a particularly heavy load. I went over the 5 minutes, it took longer than that to lighten my load!
http://fiveminutefriday.com/2018/11/08/fmf-link-up-burden/
Lord, help my words to honor you, not confuse others about You and help me to grow in this season, so that they will know You because of my love. Because of mercy, Amen
Craziest thing ever! My boot camp instructor told me I needed to get right!
Last night I was grouchy and told her so. I dragged myself to boot camp, told the trainer I’m here and I know I’ll feel better afterward, so, yeah I’m here, that’s all.
If I moved I’d feel better, if I left the house I’d be less worried. My workout was intentional, I was not there for fun and games, I just wanted her to know. Not in the mood for conversation, there to unravel my day, let my blood up its flow, let go the things needed to let go.
She responded with her usual firm motivationally cocky type retort, not allowing me to be pouty and then firmly added, “Get right with God!”
And it was odd because we don’t talk about Jesus at boot camp, she and the others if I’m honest only vaguely know of my faith, only vaguely know I believe.
So, I took it as important, her reply so important for me to hear, to adhere. I was tired of waiting for things to happen in my life; beginning to believe some things will never change and some breakthroughs have gone another direction, not coming through for me anymore. Work stuff, work worries.
Before I even read from two different perspectives about Martha, I was wondering already this morning about how and whether I believe. Do I believe for others; but, not for me?
Like Martha, maybe, the sister of Mary and of Lazarus. It occurs to me now, she must’ve been the middle child, the one who kept an eye out for discord, the one who anticipated family drama, the one who got all concerned and withdrawn when there seemed to an issue. She was perpetually on the edge of coming unhinged.
But, she didn’t see it, I don’t believe. She saw herself as the keeper of control, she was one who believed in Jesus yet made it her role to be on guard against trouble, to be prepared when it came.
Jesus compared her to her sister, Mary.
He’d come to visit them and Martha was busy cleaning, preparing, ready to put on a show. She was frustrated when he noticed Mary. He told her to notice too. Mary sat in silence, she waited unworried, just wanted to be with Jesus, somehow knew nothing more was expected. Her lack of activity, of anxiety, of frantic expectation, led Jesus to tell Martha, I’m sorry to tell you but her choice is “the better”.
I imagine Martha knew her patterns, like me, sporadic in her change, but determined to let them go.
Slowly breaking the habit of questioning everything and keeping in control.
Some time passed after Jesus sat with them in their home and they beckoned him to return, this time to perform a miracle, their brother was dead.
They believed through Jesus he could live.
Do you believe this? Jesus John 11:26
When Martha settled into the unlikelihood her brother would be revived, she answered Jesus’ question with a yes that was sort of a but or an even though…I guess, still.
I imagine her demeanor was calm, her resignation confirming her fear that became acceptance. He would be healed and he would live, her brother would see heaven.
Belief is sometimes just acceptance and with acceptance, there is always a hint of sullen. Acceptance isn’t usually accompanied by joy; just an okay but I really hoped it could be better. It’s a settling for less than we believed and I believe it’s because of what we believe about ourselves.
I wonder if Martha remembered the time she spent sweeping up the kitchen instead of sitting beside her sister and Jesus. If, because of her cleaning compulsions and her less than enthusiastic worship, she had no right to believe in miracles.
Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you.” John 11:21-22
Jesus had other ideas.
Ideas to reveal His Father’s glory. He kept no record of the ways she viewed herself as wrong.
I do this sometimes, sell myself short on God’s glory and greatness. I decide in comparison to others, I’m not quite so worthy. Like Martha, I believe in good for others, not so much for me.
And I surely believe in heaven but sometimes not so much at all, do I believe in now.
Intention, felt wrong when I wrote it, like a word that didn’t belong with the others: rest and attentiveness.
But, the day is almost done and intention has finished the sentence, is the conclusion to this morning’s story.
Believing with the intention of trusting.
Now I see. Now I’m right in my thinking.
Jesus responded, “Didn’t I tell you that you would see God’s glory if you believe?” John 11: 40 NLT
Right with you…God.
Father, thank you for hearing me. John 11:41 NLT
Jesus, I believe.
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