grace

Too Wonderful to Know

Abuse Survivor, contentment, courage, Faith, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, grief, memoir, mercy, Redemption, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I wish I knew the source of his sorrow.

Three of us there, I think of the differences now.

Me, an executive type pretend director wishing to stay home and paint, an interesting stranger and a preacher who is for real, he emanates peace, attentive love.

It began with two, myself and the young pastor.

I call and called him friend.

Breakfast outside that began with open discussion of things I’m struggling with and most of them made worse by the deeply buried truths hammered in angrily to the soul of a little girl who’d follow any command just for the chance to be loved, to be beloved.

We were in agreement. Oh, the peace of that, to be in agreement with a man of God, a preacher.

To be validated in your understanding of God, to be assured, yes, this is the God you are seeing, this is the Jesus you know.

“’Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?’ Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.”

‭‭Job‬ ‭42:3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

We must’ve been a half hour in. The sun on my back no longer pleasant and I am hot.

Miserable, faking being okay.

For a minute I try to pretend, try to stay composed in my wrought iron seat on the sidewalk sauna.

I shift my chair to the shade and cover my omelette and my grits with a napkin to keep my eyes from darting with the flight of one annoying fly.

He continues with his toast, unconcerned over the fly and simply smiled as I shifted in my seat.

“Is my forehead glistening?”, I wonder. He doesn’t seem hot at all. How is he so chill?

I promise I sensed God’s spirit in his voice, most of all in his listening.

My friend and I continued. I told him I’d just finished the Book of Job and that I was moved in different ways than before.

The words barely uttered and a man hurried past us then turned to ask,

“Did I hear you say Job?”

We welcomed him in.

It was a God thing for sure. My pastor friend listened as I confirmed we were discussing Job.

The tall man who must’ve just left the bank because of the three different wallets he held tight, clutched in his palm.

He hesitated walked away and then returned, his body bounced and then settled and then shifted weight one side to the other.

Job confounded Him, it was clear.

What God allowed to happen to Job bothered him significantly, the fact that God took Job’s children and that God allowed it, actually handed them along with Job over to Satan.

It was clear this troubled this man, standing before us on a small town sidewalk, his face scruffy with stubble and his muscle tank on backwards, his shorts, a faded blue tropical pattern, old sandals and he was bothered by the weather as was I.

Which was good, it wasn’t just me.

He began to sweat as he spoke, elaborating further and my friend kept his cool, listening even when I added in too much information as I often do.

Telling them both I love the last chapter because Job forgives his friends, shows the ones who turned against him mercy and then God gifts Job with more years better than the ones before.

Two things for me there. It is right to let the ones who left you hanging off the hook.

It is thrilling to know your now and your future can be phenomenally better than your before.

Both men smiled and the tall man shuffled his feet telling us he’s sure Job’s in heaven with his family and friends.

He believes Job, his friends and his family were “grandfathered in”.

He’s still not sure why God had to let it happen this way.

We agree. We aren’t either.

And my pastor friend essentially said we don’t know and that maybe we forget how small our time is here in comparison to heaven.

And if we remembered heaven, well, we might not so angrily and aggressively need to understand now.

That we might finally know what Job meant when he realized there are things too wonderful to know.

Last night, I reread the last chapter and I paused at one place, the place that tells me my bad days are over, my better has only begun.

I began to cry.

“And the Lord blessed the latter days of Job more than his beginning.”

‭‭Job‬ ‭42:12‬ ‭ESV‬‬

For now it is so very wonderful to know my past does not define my future and wonderful to know that God is in agreement with my forgiveness of those I felt should have done more. My prayer, to forgive them.

“…and the Lord accepted Job’s prayer.”

‭‭Job‬ ‭42:9‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Wonderful to know the little that I know.

I thought today how I wish I knew more of his story, the stranger and his sorrow causing his questioning of God in relation to Job.

So many things, my pastor friend, the tall guy and I, God has much yet to be shown us, so many things we do not know.

Tonight, the sky said hello gradually with the popping out of bright stars.

The dark clouds buffeted the horizon and the space up above was clear.

I snapped a shot driving home, so blurry, because of my dirty windshield.

Then I thought of heaven vs. earth.

We’re a mess down here below, it’s impossible to capture heaven on the other side of the sky.

It’s just way too wonderful to see, too wonderful to know.

And too significantly difficult to comprehend.

A family has lost a son tonight, a grief incomprehensible.

Many are the sorrows we may know or not know.

I wonder why Job called them “wonderful” and realize it is not for me to know.

Too Wonderful for any of us to know.

God, Being God

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, fear, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, Peace, praise, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

God being God, will bring to you what you need.

I asked this morning why I have a hard time with words like “surrender”?

There’s a word picture I’ve painted when I sit and make my list, the prayers and the same old struggles, worries, hopes and fears.

I’ve taken to opening my hand, palm facing up when I pray.

It’s a small thing.

I’m trying to grasp a better understanding of my part in this thing called surrender.

I notice my hands unfolding more now, I’m less likely to be tightly fisted in every occasion requiring I wait or sit still.

The tension releasing, the simple change of unclenching, a tiny thing in my timely transformation.

This morning, I told God

I want peace.

Well, of course you do, don’t we all, I suppose you may be thinking.

Surrender doesn’t mean defeat, not giving up or lying down and curling up fetal.

Surrender means deciding you can handle this better, God. Your skill set so much more developed than mine.

Surrender is the realization you can no longer meet the need of another, or something other.

So, you say, “Here, God.”

My ancient devotional gifted by my wise cousin has verses in translations that are old and sometimes, odd.

Quotes from ancient writers, teachers, theologians and poets often require a whole lot of concentration.

Read. Ponder. Read.

The topic today? Fretting.

Fret not thyself, it tendeth only to evil-doing. Psalm 37:8 R.V

Spellcheck is confused. Do you mean tends instead of tendeth?

I kinda like the word fret. I totally get its meaning and it reminds me of my grandma.

fret1

fret/

verb

1 1.
be constantly or visibly worried or anxious.”she fretted about the cost of groceries”

2 synonyms:

3 worry, be anxious, feel uneasy, be distressed, be upset, upset oneself, concern oneself;

I see her scurrying around in her kitchen making us all pancakes and bacon and I imagine she’d tell me now.

Stop fretting! It will be alright.

Fretting comes so much more naturally than surrender.

God, being God lined up my lessons this morning. A fellow blogger sent an email out to her subscribers, reminding us to continue even when it feels a strain against your natural flow, that’s transformation in the underneath, there are refinements happening I can’t see.

Then, a Joy and Strength historic quote:

Do not be disquieted about your faults. Love without ceasing, and much will be forgiven you, because you have loved much. Francois de la Mothe Fe’nelon

This fretting thing has clearly been around for ages.

surrender, too.

Decidedly, it’s what we commit to that matters.

What we decide to pursue in our thoughts and actions that will bring peace.

“Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.

Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him, and he will act.

He will bring forth your righteousness as the light, and your justice as the noonday.

Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him; fret not yourself…”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭37:4-7‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Linking up with Mary Geisen at Tell His Story. Mary compares the back and to of control and surrender to the game on volleyball. It’s an awesome piece reminding me that God has control of the ball.

Tell His Story

After All

birds, contentment, courage, Faith, Forgiveness, grace, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

All day long to me, it was Thursday. It made no sense because Tuesday meant meetings and Thursday, always the same.

Wednesday though, in between after my Tuesday starting early and ending late.

Maybe my mind’s compilation and calculations had me thinking such. I’d barely been home at all.

Wednesday evening now and the clouds are boldly gray, all meeting in the middle as if saying hurry, hurry sundown.

Tomorrow is another day.

My mood was knocked off kilter yesterday.

What was expected would be required to change.

Moody, mopey, misaligned, my plan would not come true.

Once again, it’s up to you and you may have said to self, the going well of this or not going well,

Well, that’s gonna be it for me!

You may have decided it’s a pivotal time. I’m tired, I’ve tried.

But, yesterday I went home in between the upended plan and the meeting.

Thirty minutes was all.

Acknowledged the Labrador, allowed him to run, made an iced coffee and went to my room to pray.

Lord, this is the work you’ve given me to do, help me do it well.

I conducted the meeting, the conversations were engaging and new.

Not once felt incapable, I somehow commanded the room.

It was a long day into evening, which is I guess, why Wednesday I decided should be by now Thursday.

Grocery store stop, supper done, dishes done, mess I made in the art/writing/workroom tidied, a load of towels done and tossing and tennis ball retrieving fulfilled.

I ran some, walked some and came back home.

Stopped the music coming through and stood still in our front yard.

The warm wind against my shoulders, circling all around my face. So softly strong there was a sound, sound of whooshing wind and soprano birdsong.

So I stood and closed my eyes to pray and when thoughts did not come not a request or a thank you, Lord, I stood still and I still prayed.

I stood very still to listen.

To pray.

Happy Way of Life #16 To Try

Abuse Survivor, Art, bravery, confidence, courage, freedom, grace, happy, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Stillness, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

There is a persuasion in the soul of man that he is here for a cause, that he was put down in this place by the Creator to do the work for which He inspires him, that he is an overmatch for all antagonists that could combine against him. Ralph Waldo Emerson

Have you considered the deep down joy of trying?

It is possible that trying might be more fantastic than you’ve ever known.

If we’d not discount it based on whether we finished satisfactorily or how everything may have to fall apart to come back together.

Last night, I painted for an hour, the same the night before. The surface waits for me now, paint tubes not closed properly, canvases stacked with halfway pieces and half-hearted attempts.

I’ve been here before. Seeking something big and of notice.

Seeking to be known by the work of my hands.

Instead of my heart.

Self-awareness, oh what a blessed gift you are!

Encouraging my beginning again.

Telling me to try.

I’ve just done a new thing this morning.

An idea I’ve had for a long time, a story and the deadline, oh shoot!

It’s today.

So instead, I pitched my idea…just proposed the heart of the story to see if the publisher might think the reader may like to read more.

This is not a phenomenal feat, it is simply a try and it is new for me.

So, now I move farther into my Saturday.

I’ll run while the air is still cool, make the bed, do some laundry, maybe return to the mess I made and try again and again.

Maybe, again. I will try.

Know that wisdom is such to your soul; if you find it, there will be a future, and your hope will not be cut off. – Proverbs 24:14

A Loyal Peace

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, happy, heaven, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

He restores my soul.

A grassy hill, a sloping field sits in front of our house. Occasionally, when it cools down with a crisp sharp change, a lone deer will stand and stare.

I imagine it sometimes more of a pretty meadow and I love to picture a flock of fat fuzzy sheep gathered together, content in their position.

I read this morning of our all-knowing God, His knowing us completely, our good things and our struggles.

I thought of Him as a shepherd and imagined one sheep who had found a solitary corner, separate from the rest.

One might think illness, pregnant with a baby lamb or some limitation causing it to stay back, to retreat.

Like a sheep all alone on purpose, I’m prone to retreat. Sometimes to rest my mind, filter out the excess. Sometimes healthy or something else.

Other times the cause is remorse, sometimes insecurity, sometimes shame, or uncertainty.

I learned long ago to find a corner and to sit with it all, wanting someone to notice or praying no one noticed at all.

Until I convinced myself to get up and carry on.

We have a shepherd who is loyal, not going to leave us behind or desire that we sulk off separate from rest.

God sees our good. He also sees our not good. Our emotions and negative names we give ourselves are just as troubling to Him as our sin, I believe.

Were we able to audibly hear Him calling our name, saying “Come here, come out from that corner!”

We’d hear him say, I imagine, “I give you safety not fear. I created you to be confident, not afraid, I will equip you to do great things, don’t be insecure. Remorse is not required of you.

You are forgiven.”

Then He might tell me a story or a few of them about others like me who got lost and were found and found again.

And if this were so, I imagine there would be an embrace and perhaps, He would say:

“Stay with me. Stay longer this time, Lisa Anne.

Everything I did and have done. It is for you, for you to follow, fully believing.

I am loyal, your loyal shepherd.

I don’t see your struggles the way you believe I do, I see them simply as not meant for you. I see you meant for more. This is why I am loyal, why I gave my life for your peace.”

But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.

All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned-every one-to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all. – Isaiah 53:5-6

 

This post was prompted by the Five Minute Friday community, Kate gave us the word loyal and like most times, I’m sure I took more than five minutes to finish, still, I am linking up with others. Kate Motaung writes about the loyalty she observed while in Africa. Read here: Loyal

FF-Square-Images-Round-4-1-2

Where God Has Me

Abuse Survivor, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, love, Peace, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

Lisa Brittain writes about freedom, trust and surrender. She asked me to write about freedom.

She reminds the reader that when we look to the Lord, we are radiant and without fear. (Psalm 34:5).

This morning, I read my contribution to her blog. It’s an odd excitement to see your words in other places, I hope it will always be exciting. I believe it will.

Today, it prompted a sort of urgent self-reflection, a gentle stirring me to right a slight wrong.

Early still, I’m awake and thinking about this new “forgetting and forgiving is freedom” place God has me.

I know it’s the right place, this place of deliverance longed for for so long.

Yet, it’s not about me.

I’m glad I caught it early.

Self-examination in the quiet space of morning caused me to trash quickly a post, one about not joining in the conversations about new and overwhelmingly increasing numbers of sexual abuse disclosures.

I harshly used the word “bandwagon” to judge others who are finding their voice and bravely revealing what they’d hidden for so long.

My 5:30 a.m. journal is a note to self:

Are you boastful when you declare your progress?

Are you self-righteous when you proclaim your healing?

Somewhere I remember self-righteousness being like filthy rags.

Oh.

Maybe.

And my sermon to self?

“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”

I will preface the sharing of my post on freedom by being clear.

I understand how important it is to confront physical, sexual, emotional abuse and if appropriate, even the abuser.

I understand the powerful freedom that comes from declarative disclosure, ideally with a trusted and trained therapist.

It is important to say aloud and as often as needed:

“He, she, they should not have hurt me.” or “What happened to me was wrong”.

Yes, I do understand.

I understand the strength you never thought was yours equipping you in your disclosure and growing stronger and stronger.

I understand to decide to step away from those wounds, to move on towards new and vibrant places with a countenance of confidence is a decision of will and of faith, of determination and daily rising up to meet the road with God beside me.

I’m not able on my own.

My decisive daily prayer of what to do now with my survivor story that was once horrific and now, hopeful has become:

Lord, what do I have to say that others need to hear, to read, to know? Help me to help and not hinder and to speak more of my hope through you than my harm through them. May it be so.

Because of mercy, Amen

Here’s an excerpt from my post on which Lisa gave space for my freedom story.

   For so long, I’ve held tightly to my harm from abuse.  My days and nights have been marked by reminders that prodded the scars of my heart’s wounds, the scars that would be forever tender. Talking with others who understood or at least could attempt to be empathic, I was committed to my mindset, a decision to “keep my stuff”. It was a huge part of me…

Read more here:

The Freedom of Forgetting

Stuff of Sorrow

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, grace, heaven, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Serving, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting

Most of my afflictions have been “momentary” and later, I understood them all or with time, accepted them. I can’t say any of my troubles could compare to Job’s and if I’m honest, nor does my unwavering trust.

My choices waver at times, not so much like altogether abandoning my faith; but, like the rich man who couldn’t imagine choosing to follow over keeping all the wealth he had.

And a ruler asked him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” And Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone.

You know the commandments: ‘Do not commit adultery, Do not murder, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Honor your father and mother.'”

And he said, “All these I have kept from my youth.”

When Jesus heard this, he said to him, “One thing you still lack. Sell all that you have and distribute to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.”

But when he heard these things, he became very sad, for he was extremely rich. – Luke 18:18-23

Sometimes I’m sorrowful over my sorry state of mind and lack of solid pressing forward.

When Jesus told the rich man what he needed to go beyond just being good, it was more than he wanted to hear; I believe he was looking for one more commandment, maybe a new one he could boast about his adherence.

Instead, Jesus asked him to sacrifice.

He asked him give what he treasured, asked him to give up the thing he measured his worth, his value by.

When Jesus tells me to do something or to do without something, it’s obviously not a tap on the shoulder or a verbal command.

It’s more a stirring, sometimes unpleasant and others exhilarating over what my life might be if I gave my all, gave Him my all.

When that soul stirring says “change” “surrender” “give up” or “give all” it’s a call to follow, to come and see how my life might be.

Mostly, I meander and the hard truth is I often ignore and it’s sort of secretive. Only God and me know, how I might be different were I to choose differently.

Then comes the sorrow, the sorrow we label loosely in other, more understandable ways.

Calling it humility, doubt or disappointment because we don’t want to call it what it is, disobedience.

Doubt somehow is easier on the heart, feels more allowable and forgiving like mercy or grace.

Like the Proverbs verse about the dog returning to his vomit, I’m prone to patterns I know, mostly in my thinking, thankfully.

Job chose a different path than the rich ruler. Both had a whole lot. The rich ruler lost nothing, Job everything.

Job refused to curse God. The rich ruler by his refusal to let go of all his riches, essentially did.

Both were sorrowful. Both were tested. One held fast to God, the other to His riches.

And the LORD said to Satan, “Have you considered my servant Job, that there is none like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, who fears God and turns away from evil? He still holds fast his integrity, although you incited me against him to destroy him without reason.” – Job 2:3

Job lost property and children and did not blame God.

Chapter 2 has a header in my Bible that says “Satan Attacks Job’s Health”. Job’s wife watches as he breaks a pot to alleviate the pain and presence of sores, scraping desperately over the toxic wounds now covering his entire body.

She tells him he should curse God and die.

Job replies that her talk is foolish and reminds her we shouldn’t expect good from God only, that we might experience bad, we might experience evil even.

In the midst of our suffering God is still working, will we hold fast and trust Him?

I wonder how the rich ruler continued on. I’d love to know that he reconsidered his riches, that his cycle of security through wealth was somehow harshly broken.

And that when he had nothing of his own making, he believed Jesus and was made new.

This world is not our home, nor all the stuff we pile up round our rooms or anxiously work to acquire and feel we are finally enough.

But, eternity and the riches of heaven, oh my goodness, it is ours for the asking and while heaven can never be here on earth, it’s so very much closer in and around us when keep what we need, our faith and care so very little about the things that are just “the rest”.

God honored Job’s integrity, gave him and his family back all that had been taken. His days continued, they were full with so much more because he accepted what was taken, all.

And Job died, an old man, and full of days. – Job 42:17

Sun, Sit

Faith, family, grace, grief, heaven, Peace, Prayer, Stillness, Vulnerability

He sat so that I might see

The sunbeams that were

Soon to be sunset.

We’d walked a sauntering stroll

Purposefully so and the same prayer,

A thought unspoken.

Peace for them, peace surround them

Evidently, all around and real.

As our neighbor lies passing.

The thought I keep thinking.

He paused and I attempted new prayer

But, nothing came.

Peace, I asked again.

Peace.

And the Lab sat until I said “Come on.”

We continued on.

Continued on.

Burst Bubble

bravery, Faith, grace, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I had good intentions. I made a list and circled each of the 3 things I felt I should do.

I thought I might try.

One, a request that I write on “freedom”, another, the theme is education, I had and still have an idea.

A third, a lofty hope to be selected as the author of a devotion for women.

I’m not super social, I feel safest all alone.

But, I got beckoned from my bubble today, my little protected place where things are not at all perfect; but, they are good and at least, I know what is my own.

And I realized just now that I couldn’t begin to be expressive in a coherent and communicative way. It would be chore, clarity lacking, shallow sharing.

Nor should I try.

Not now.

So, I decide to back burner the writing goals, some of them commitments and to pray before sleep instead.

To pray for one who held my hand, in a final sort of goodbye way surrounded by her family.

And another not seen in a long time friend who asked me to pray just now and I replied, “I will.”

Changed by others, humbled by my trivial troubles, I will pray.

Pray for others.

I will.

Now.

Later, my list I’ll resume.

Praying for others

and me.

Prayer is the exercise of drawing on the grace of God. — Oswald Chambers

Bird’s Eye, Mine

birds, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, grace, heaven, Peace, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I couldn’t have captured them if I tried.

But, I certainly would if I could and so I’m always looking, ever aware of my pursuit.

I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living! Psalm 27:13 ESV

The one that met me as I began or the one that made its presence known as I drove intent on my part in making things better for someone.

Nor the ones all clustered together to then scatter separately in happy lilting flutters.

I smiled watching as my feet pounded the gravelly trail

Running as a release, and knowing that there’s no need to pause as if I’d cause their pausing. They were all around, teasingly entreating my notice.

Birds are just that way.

Momentarily glimpses of God, in my periphery or suddenly right in front.

And yet, not even as I rounded the curve and the straight place, again, there they were the same small clique, waiting to have me see.

And remember them and the ones before.

The first one, blue.

The second, red and the group, too distant to know, their wings mottled grey and brown.

I couldn’t have captured their appearance if I tried, if I’d flicked my wrist and angled the tiny lens just so and simultaneously tapped the button for a photo.

Even then, I couldn’t have fully captured it, their message to me saying you are seen, you are known, continue singing.

Continue to fly, to walk, to run towards God’s goodness.

Something happens when I step out to walk, to run when I make it a mandate for me.

An unraveling, solitude, unconcern over others around and ears muted to outsiders and filling up with a strong song.

Maybe the getting closer to the sky or unconfined behind desks and screens or maybe it’s the physicality of the unhindered release of mind, of limbs lethargic.

Out amongst the things of God, sounds, movements, and makings, I might otherwise consider only insignificant landscape.

The flight of birds, their singing and skirting about in my presence, it matters to me.

Assures me I matter to God. More than unexpected acclaim or surprising occurrence of good.

The birds remind me I’m small in His presence and yet He knows.

So, I’ll continue changed by the birds I see, I’ll be unchanged by the oddness of it that others might perceive.

I’ll continue joyously at ease every time I see one; the bluebird quick and rare in my presence, the red one, daily and often for me, and the obscure ones gathered together in their little community of engagement.

For with you is the fountain of life; in your light do we see light. – Psalm 36:9 ESV

Each of them for my seeing, elusive in their leading me to carry on, carry on towards the days of goodness in this land of the living.

The birds, the open sky, the invitation to pursue, to wait for all that is good all the good in the light I must go to see, to seek under great big skies, bordered by bird and tree, I must open my eyes to see, open them to heaven!

The unraveling of my anxious thoughts, making space for Him.

Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord! Psalm 27:4