Messy, Pretty, Good

courage, Faith, grace, rest, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

There’s paint spattered on the wall, a greenish blue ocean color.

A canvas a while ago, I was intent on the texture of sky and sea, large brush strokes, attacking white canvas…until I got it right. Kept at it until satisfied.

Until I could step back, look towards color and be content with what I’d made.

If it’s good, there’s peace and rest. Not good, its surface gets painted over, propped up to dry and I’m torn between trying again or letting it be.

I’m always certain of plans for a painting, intent and abandoned in the process.

I’m hard on myself, denying I’m meant to create. What is talent, who decides?

Just like that, I leave it for a time…let it go.

Then, an afternoon frees itself and I’m covering the table in sheets, laying out paint, filling mason jars with water and bringing out the piece I gave up on, maybe a blank canvas too.

And I paint. I change black to blue, textured with thick layers like silk, reds, bright and full.

Poppy-like blooms, strong and long green stems barely able to support the fullness of blooms.

Later, it’s dry and I can hardly stop myself from staring. I turn it to its back and sign, “LT…Quiet Confidence…Isaiah 30:15”.

Called it “Joy”.

Joy

Yesterday. I woke with recall of the sweetest and smallest of unexpected good. Today, as well.

I looked over towards pine tree tops and saw sunlight peeking through.

I sat there, with that sweetness…yesterday and today.

Remembering how I’d pushed for perfect.

How I’d given up, defeated and despondent until like a child pitchin’ a fit, I’ve done all I can do and I traipse away to my corner to accept life as it has been given, my perceived pitifully unfair lot in life.

Until, like a sullen and sulking child, I begin to let go and let it be.

And God, like a parent who saw that special thing hoped for; but, held back knowingly, softly walks back in and says. “Here, child. This is what I had for you. It’s better than what you wanted.”

It’s the unexpected and gloriously beautiful, like rich red and peaceful blue paint on a discarded old piece of wood.

Merciful grace to those tripped up by hastened and erratic desire.

Messy made pretty, made good.

Return to rest, my soul. The Lord has been good to you.

Psalm 116:7

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee, Tell His Story

Petals and Remembrance

courage, Faith, grace, Prayer, rest, Trust

If you knew what might be said of you, an act or characteristic that all would agree, “That’s what I remember most about….”

What might that one thing be, when might that moment have occurred or what might be the description of you that followed pensive pause?

I read today about a woman who loved Jesus.

With intention, she sought and found Jesus. She found him at the house of Simon, a man with leprosy. Others were there. She made her way to Jesus, broke open the alabaster vase and tenderly poured the costly perfume on his head, anointing him, an act of love.

She had heard of his coming death. The others, indignant and critical, vying for the approval of Jesus, pointed out her waste, her lack of discretion. Jesus, instead corrected them, humbled and touched by her beautiful and timely act.

The act of love she’d be remembered by, the story of the broken vase, the perfume, Jesus told them all this is what will be told in memory of her…

the woman from Bethany, the one with intentional love for me.

“She has done what she could. She has anointed my body beforehand for burial. Truly, I say to you wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.” Jesus. Mark 14:8-9

There are camellia petals, still rich and soft, in my Bible.

There are little asterisks, notes, and lengthy prayers scattered among bullet lists of blessings.

There’s a place I’m found every morning for a while now. Bible and nicely flowing pen or pencil, time with God. I’m most content there.

It’s not at all profound or amazing; yet, I’d like to know there may be memories of me there, in my morning chair.

The place of finding Jesus.

Grace in the Silence of Morning

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

I heard it most clearly

As the rain fell steady and fluid.

It continued through the night.

I’d wake and hear it’s shrill and consistent cry.

Then, drifting back as opportunity allowed, only to be roused again.

A solitary bird, must be a baby I decided…somehow stranded, lost, seeking to be found.

So, morning comes and the dogs must have heard it too.

So anxious to be let out

Rushing through the door, bolting towards back yard, barking frantically at the sky, full retrieval mode.

Barking and circling the yard, looking up from rain-soaked trunks, tracking the cry of a solitary bird.

Where are you?

What do you need?

Their barks, a seeking and determined banter.

And I followed behind, just as intent, looking up towards skinny and broken pine limbs way up high.

Looking to find the place of this needy, deliberate, and insisting cry.

Others joined, a variety of bird, more melodic as daylight pushed its way through drizzled gray.

The lone bird’s cry paused, finally.

Had been responded to, so grew softer then, more expectant.

Not so shrill, not so impatiently anxious.

The morning then, a harmonious repose.

So. as the morning goes, I find myself in my familiar place.

Jotting, reading, praying, sipping coffee and finding words.

Opening my heart, it’s an effortless sort of graceful gift.

God hears my silent and seeking cry again.

As my thoughts become settled and silent.

God’s words making sense every morning.

Easy in the silence.

The Lord will fight for you, and you only have to be silent.

Exodus 14:14

To Be with Jesus

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

I wouldn’t say it was the very first thought today.

But, once I had sweet creamy coffee in hand, I sat and then thought.

Morning

Lord, what is it you will teach me today?

I’d read from the Book of Mark yesterday and would be picking back up there. Jesus with people, seeking, following or doubting…all hearers of His stories, parables and encounters. I’d have been captivated

I would hope so.

I wonder, if I’d been one of the chosen 12 or at least had time in His midst

Would I have been an attentive and engrossed student

Listening closely, comforted and content?

Or might I have been one to question, to be agitated by notions of what should have been a more prolific and royal presence?

Mark 6:6

Would I have been disappointed?

Wondering, who is this friend of sinners, teacher and one who beckoned everyone…come closer, listen?

Would I have hunkered down, found a quiet place in the boat, raging storm all around; nevertheless, secure because of His nearness?

Or would my fears have gotten the best of me, untrusting

And He marveled because of their unbelief. And He went about among the villages teaching. Mark 6:6

Unwilling to believe?

Would my terror have led to anger, so much that I questioned this man sleeping in stormy waters…this healer, this soon to be Savior?

I wonder if I would have known His peace or panicked.

I wonder if I’d been one following close behind Him on narrow paths of dirt

If I’d have been a happy disciple or a fatigued and weary traveler.

Would I have been bitter over Jesus stopping to notice a greedy little man in a tree, a filthy, lonely soul covered in sores, or a brazen woman aware of her sin, yet still hoping for redemption?

Or would I have known the purpose of the stories?

Would I have been impatient, expecting an elaborate and rehearsed lecture to prepare for the kingdom, culture, or citizenship to come.

Scholarly and pompous, would I have shown up only to be given wise instructions?

Or would I have listened like a child at His feet, hanging on words that told of a wayward son’s choosing wealth over work, pig troughs, the worth of sparrows, not hiding lights under bushels, and seeds sown the right way so as to grow big, big faith?

I hope I’d have been the one who rose early to be with Jesus

To ask

Morning glorious

“Jesus, what is it I need to hear today?”

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee to Tell His Story

Psalm 23, Art and Rest

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

Psalm 23…scribbled in the corner

I almost painted over it…the brush strokes too wide and thick. “Psalm 23”, I called this one and decided to leave the words in its corner.

On the 26th day, I read Psalm 23, following the guide in the back of my Bible. Before that, I’d read from Genesis. Fine pencil lines marking the words of Joseph’s father, a very old man, realizing his son had not died. A beautiful story, son clinging to father, tears soaking shoulder.

I read from the Book of Mark, an account of Jesus in the early days of healing. A man, paralyzed, delivered to Jesus to be healed, forgiven, walking. Believing first, then with healed legs, moving forward.

Then, Psalm 23, I lingered there. I thought of green pastures.

Shady, wide-branched trees and blue, blue sky.

And on this day, I thought all day long of resting.

This painting was purchased weeks ago, I wondered by whom for awhile. It’s size large and painted on antique door.

Then, this week a call, a note for me had been mailed to the shop.

The young newlywed wife from Oregon wrote to thank me.

“The painting hangs over our bed” , she wrote. “It’s calming.

I’m not religious, but Psalm 23 speaks to me.”

I read the note, tears in my eyes because I’d lingered there that morning, 23rd Chapter, Book of Psalms.

I cherish this now, a thank you note from a couple, my painting hangs in their home evoking rest.

And just last week, walking, a longing in my heart.

I’d prayed, “Lord, help me see my worth, help me know I matter.”

23rd Psalm, resting, restoring…walking in valleys and shadows.

Little sketches or big paintings on old wood….comforting like cool grass under shade of tree.

I shall lie down…my soul restored.

Little is plenty

Children, family, grace, Trust, Uncategorized

We didn’t wake to snow.

Only cold, wet and windy at my sister’s.

Middle of the day my nephew and I decided to go outside.

The wind met us face first as we barely reached the corner.

We turned back, his little feet peddlin’ fast on his bike and me running, shoulders hunched, head down, slightly geriatric.

He catches up, runs inside first , turns back to say, “I love you, Aunt Lisa.”

Back inside, with coffee I open a book I won’t be able to finish.

One line though, enough for today.

If you did not want much, there was plenty. Go Set a Watchman

My nephew asked, randomly, “Are you rich, Aunt Lisa? “

I thought and said, “Yes, I am.”

Goodness and Possibility

courage, Faith, family, grace, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

May the Lord fulfill all your petitions! Psalm 20:5

Thank you Lord, for prayer.

This daily, hourly, prompted or not

Offering up, recording, pouring out or simply conversing with you, God.

Less uncertainty

More possibility.

Less effort, more expectation.

Believing, although not knowing.

Thank you Lord, for prayer.

For intercession.

For just the slightest of change in my dilemma, desire or discontent.

Thank you Lord, for prayer.

For big, big changes that cause my awe of you.

Give credence to my conviction.

And for subtle and secret answers. Answers that ease mind and soul.

Answers that wrap me in ease of mind, sense of coming change.

Acceptance of my lot or just contentment in the waiting.

Thank you Lord, for prayer.

For seeing, knowing, calming and blessing.

You bless me indeed. Surrounding me with those I love and enlightening me by bringing those I need…people placed on my path to teach and grow me. You keep your hand on me and with gentle caution you stop my rushing forward. You prevent me from causing pain. You hear my thoughts, my prayers.

You intercede on my behalf.

Thank you, God, for goodness and possibility.

In Jesus name, Amen

Semblance of Word

Children, courage, Faith, grace, Prayer, Trust, Uncategorized

I especially like when words match feelings to a “t”.

Did you know to endure means to suffer patiently?

As if to expect tough times; yet, with patience

Enduring, knowing salvation will come.

But the one who endures to the end will be saved. Matthew 24:13

I love too, when what we think is random or coincidence is in fact much more.

So much more.

When I’m surprised by the semblance of one thing and another.

And I stop.

Oh, my. This is God.

This is God.

I bought this little cinched up bag, folded slips of paper inside.

Reach in, take one out, think about it, maybe tuck under magnet on fridge.

Bible verses, take one out, see if it resonates.

So, today…the verse spoke of endurance.

Praying before reading, as usual. I asked for good days for my children, a reprieve, for a “let-up” so to speak.

Requesting goodness, ease, blessings and for them to sense God.

They’ve been enduring.

And I’ve been praying.

This morning, I pulled a little slip out and read. Then, my daily reading per outline, Genesis, Psalms, Matthew.

Matthew 24, today. Day 21.

Synchronicity in words.

Enduring.

Semblance of prayer and word.

Over 31,000 verses in the Bible. Today I needed just one…twice.

God in the details.

Enduring.

Morning, a lingering

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

If morning were all day and filtered into evening

I may be a little different.

Morning still

My maybe might be sure.

My perhaps would be probably.

I’d be more apt to linger, content in unfolding of day.

My “No’s” might be more steady.

My “Yes’s” more enthused.

My failures be more misunderstandings than mistakes.

If morning lingered longer

I’d wear the color of patience on my smile.

Subtle, pretty and just a hint of shine like a peachy lip

My pauses be more often, intentional in exchange

My words more heart than hurry.

Mornings like today, moved more slowly towards task and rested in time for contemplation.

The sky was more dusk than dawn.

Rain coming, not here yet.

Questioning the time of day…is it earlier than I thought?

Could I have a little more early morn?

Oh, good! Thank you Lord, for mornings lasting longer.

The sky reflective of rest, not at all impatient to commence.

Patient, satisfied and content for whatever may be.

Oh, to the linger a little longer in the mindfulness of morning time.

Thus, prepared for the unfolding of day.

“Restlessness and impatience change nothing except our peace and joy. Peace does not dwell in outward things, but in the heart prepared to wait trustfully and quietly on him who has all things safely in his hands.” Elisabeth Elliot

http://katemotaung.com/five-minute-friday/

Just Stay Near

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

A toddler’s hand, small and supple in the hand of a father

A frail and spotted one held firmly but tenderly as feet move intentional, yet uncertain towards someplace.

Quiet Confidence…Abiding.

The one leading speaking softly, with intention

Stay with me, just hold my hand.

Don’t let go.

Because maybe abiding is not so much perfection or unwavering trust.

Maybe abiding in Christ is just staying near, remembering what happens when hearts and feet wander.

Maybe steadfast trust doesn’t look all bright, shiny and triumphant.

Ironically, more of a resemblance to resignation.

Because surrender is not always defeat.

It’s acceptance with full hearts, hands, feet and mind at rest.

It’s moving forward with deliberate and thoughtful feet, despite the cold, hard questioning days.

Determined, not despondent.

Just staying near. Staying is sufficient.

Sufficient, like grace.

Feet may falter, hearts may fumble.

Frailty might give way to fear.

Just stay near.

I think of how much you have helped me;

I sing for joy in the shadow of your protecting wings.

I follow close behind You;

Your strong right hand holds me securely.

Psalm 63:7-8

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee, telling His story.

Tell His Story

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