grace

Potted Daffodils

Art, bravery, courage, daughters, Faith, family, grace, grief, heaven, hope, memoir, painting, Peace, Redemption, rest, Stillness, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom

Wrapped in bright yellow foil scattered with pink and baby blue, the potted daffodils at Publix called my name.

I bought the pot of fully grown flowers and moved them into a terra cotta pot. The bird girl statue Elizabeth calls “our Angel girl” now holds a tray of potted pansies slowly wilting in one hand and the other, upward reaching daffodils on bright silky green.

They won’t last long, already full grown. What’s the use, I thought standing in the produce section staring longingly at the happy yellow flowers.

I thought of hope.

Thought of so much hope that’s in a state of deference, waiting for new life, waiting for evidence of our dreams being worth dreaming for again.

I thought of a song as I painted last week.

Like Springtime

An obscure songwriter not many will know, Chris Renzema, penned lyrics that keep dancing softly with me.

I first heard this song over a year ago. It just won’t let me go.

We will sing a new song
‘Cause death is dead and gone with the winter
We will sing a new song
Let “hallelujahs” flow like a river
We’re coming back to life
Reaching towards the light
Your love is like springtime.

Like Springtime

I walked yesterday, briefly and mostly for fresh air to cycle through my chest to move towards healing from a three day cough.

I saw the daffodils and had a new idea, hope and anticipation of Spring next year, of the daffodils the angel is holding today popping up like little joys encircling the statue.

Spring of 2023 will have me looking towards the little spot I treasure and I’ll watch and wait and laugh quietly when the flowers pop up in a cluster to say to me, see you hoped and waited and we came.

“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life.”
‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭13:12‬ ‭ESV‬‬

“We’re coming back to life
Reaching towards the light
Your love is like springtime

Come tend the soil
Come tend the soil of my soul
And like a garden
And like a garden I will grow
I will grow.”

Today marks the date of a phone call twelve years ago, my baby brother’s voice saying softly,

“She’s gone.” and the memory of my woeful sobbing, my head dropping heavy to my desk.

Mama, I’ve grown.

I’ll keep growing and hoping and looking heavenward. It’s hard to fathom, but impossible not to believe.

I’ll see you again. Like Springtime, it will be a beautiful day.

Until then, I’ll have a piece of coconut cake tomorrow and I’ll remember your truths.

“Lisa, never take backward steps, only move forward.” Bette (Elizabeth) Jean Peacock Hendrix 1939-2010

Grace and Pages

Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, Forgiveness, grace, kittens, memoir, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, Trust, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder, writing

“Let them come to me for refuge; let them make peace with me, yes…”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭27:5‬ ‭NIV‬‬

This morning I wrote three pages worth of notes without lifting my pen. This practice, “morning pages” is something I’d heard about and thought maybe.

I am often stubborn as a student, slow to be trained by the wisdom of others.

I’m learning.

Yesterday, the entire third page chronicled grace, the preceding two were questions of self and God.

Today, I expressed my confusion over my cat, “Georgia” suddenly and frantically obsessed with the water in my painting jars.

I tracked her movement as my pen moved swiftly blue. Committed to this morning pages practice, day two, I found a lightness in my thinking, a sweetness in allowing the freedom to write about my “just fine Georgia” cat.

She’s frantic and sneaky, moaning in her meowing to get my attention. I wonder if she knocked over the jar on my desk and drank the blue muddied water.

I continued to examine the meaning behind her behavior and transitioned to make it relatable to mine.

Unsettled seeking it seems we have in common. We have a frantic inquisitive nature and little patience with lingering question, longing for fulfillment.

I’d become apathetic about writing. Ambivalent, not just yet because I’ve not lost my love for creativity, just wondering if I’m still able.

Page three of three today asked God about delay, delay in the question I keep asking that remains unanswered.

The more I asked the question in all sorts of way, I began to feel attended to, I began to be okay with not yet knowing, instead continuing while waiting.

I settled down and ended page three wishing there were space for more.

Resting.

Pages lined with swirly words and Georgia settles. Help me to settle, God. Resting. Confident in your ability meeting my willingness.

Day 2, morning pages complete. Writing more like process than performance.

I’m learning.

One or The Other

Abuse Survivor, Art, artist calendar, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, fear, grace, hope, memoir, mercy, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, Stillness, surrender, traumatriggers, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom, wonder

When I think of David, I think he seems to have lived a life marked by thinking one way or the other. He was either desperate or joyous, defeated by his own sins or bravely standing on God’s character and promises for him, for us too.

Honest, David was honest.

“In you, O Lord, do I take refuge; let me never be put to shame; in your righteousness deliver me! Incline your ear to me; rescue me speedily! Be a rock of refuge for me, a strong fortress to save me!”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭31:1-2‬ ‭ESV‬‬

What are the thoughts you think about yourself, your value, your image, your light meant to be shared with others?

Are the things people say of you consistent with the things you think and say of yourself?

“You will look to Him for gladness and refreshment when depressed, for moderation and recollection when in good spirits, and you will find that He will never leave you to want.” Francois De La Fenelon (1651-1715), Joy and Strength

Last night, I dreamt of drowning.

I heard myself catching my breath as I came up from the deep, a frantic exhale. I found my soft heavy blanket. I let it rest over my torso and I processed the possibility that I’ve been pulled downward again by the unanswered questions of my past, the agony of being unable to piece it all together peacefully.

I’m not able on my own I’m reminded.

“I’m not sleeping lately.” I told my husband. “Did I wake you?” “No.”, he answered.

“Good.” I added, thinking there’s no need to trouble him with the dream of drowning.

Instead, carry on with the new day.

As I fed the cat my eyes went to the calendar and the verse I found fitting for January.

The theme is courage.

I sat with coffee, lit my candle although it was morning and secretly asked God to come and find me again.

Turned to January 21st in my devotional. There again, the verse about courage.

“Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the Lord.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭31:24‬ ‭KJV‬‬

I recorded three thoughts and let them lead me to process my worry, my concern over who I am, who I was, who I’m becoming.

I’m not who people think I am. I’m fragile. I’m faltering. I doubt the promises of God quite often and I exhaust myself with worrying.

Then, God brought reply.

Same type replies he gave the ancient souls like David and Francois when they found themselves despairing.

You’re not who you were and perhaps rarely who people say you are, but you are fully known and loved.

I am who Jesus says I am.

Three self-reflective questions led to honest self-assessment and the possibility of a different perspective according to Jesus.

Could it be the deepest place of questions can answer the longings you feel are best kept to yourself?

“In mercy you have seen my troubles, and you have cared for me; even during this crisis in my soul I will be radiant with joy, filled with praise for your love and mercy. You have kept me from being conquered by my enemy; you broke open the way to bring me to freedom, into a beautiful, broad place.”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭31:7-8‬ ‭TPT‬‬

Possibly, we’re all one or the other quite often. We sense ourselves falling into questions and despair. We stay there longer than we’d hope. We acknowledge our position.

We’re brave like David.

We ask for help.

Continue and believe.

Take courage, the ceaseless gracious hand of God, take courage.

Radiance

Angels, birds, courage, curiousity, grace, hope, Peace, Stillness, Vulnerability, wonder
The Cardinal Tree

On the curve before the yellow house adjacent to the bare tree peach orchard is a place of radiance.

Afternoons and occasional mornings, the cardinals flutter in front of me.

Several, seven or so.

A flash of happy crimson.

I love to think they know it’s me, that it’s not just their scheduled gathering that I pass by happenstance.

I love to believe, a group of red birds may be just for me,

Intentionally.

As if they know, Lisa will be passing by, she may have the baby.

She may be alone. She may be tired.

Perhaps, she’s hopeful.

A college of cardinals, waiting just for me.

Speaking bird language.

Here she comes! Let’s fly upward, let’s make a happy scene!

Let’s show her we see her.

Let’s encourage her to carry on.

“Jesus looked at them intently and said, “Humanly speaking, it is impossible. But with God everything is possible.””
‭‭Matthew‬ ‭19:26‬ ‭NLT‬‬

In Peace I Go, Again

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, freedom, grace, grief, hope, memoir, Peace, Prayer, rest, traumatriggers, Trust, Vulnerability, wisdom

After a very long time, I pulled the stubby stems from the dirt. The four times or more repotted “lipstick plant” was not thriving.

The plant sent by my fellow choir members at the time of my mother’s death. Inside, then outside, repotted and revived, try and tried again until it was decidedly time to let it go.

The forest like ferns in the window box were just there, not thriving either. My master gardener cousin suggested them and I liked that she called them “Fall ferns.” To me they looked like a walk in the woods, a reminder of creeks and pine trees.

My husband’s recent hospitalization (he’s greatly improved) reminded me not then, but yesterday, I’m good at operating on auto-pilot.

I’m skilled at begin subtly hyper-vigilant, of draping myself in sort of an emotional bubble wrap.

And praying throughout it all, praying believing in the power of prayer and the nearness of God,

Until I’m not.

Until I remember, “this feels like that”.

While I believe in my healing because of my faith in Jesus, the physicality of past trauma and memories are remnants and threads in my tapestry. I’d love to believe I’ll one day not be affected, but I’m more hopeful in knowing my hopefulness in this regard is real progress.

Is peace, is going forward in peace.

Again.

Still, conversations about options for life, long days hoping for turnarounds, ICU waiting rooms with siblings taking turns to visit and calls with the announcement “gone” are realities I have experienced.

No wonder it all came back to knock me off my feet when I quit trudging forward in a fog, when I finally slowed down.

Grief catches up. Trauma is skillful in its tactics.

It’s best that we not avoid it, rather go down the road again and again to the place where the view is more clear, better, an invitation to known peace and comfort.

Allowing the intellectual revelation that my life has been affected by trauma and loss, I have an understanding of the fallout rather than falling apart because of it.

I am in tune with myself.

I can grieve what happened back then in a way that brings a tender resurgence of sadness, but not one that destroys me.

Because I know Jesus told many “to go in peace because you’re now well, you are healed”, but the brain often rebels.

I’m not a clinician.

I believe understanding leads to disciplined healing and I don’t think remembering our hard things is always detrimental. I believe it leads to both understanding and to gratitude for who we are now

Despite what happened then.

Remember my mama’s broken pot with the miraculously spreading succulents from her funeral?

Well, they withered like an old flattened tire. The December frost took them. I brought the pot inside, too late, maybe.

I ran my fingers across the soil and tried to help the plants perk up.

Just one tiny plant like a miniature palm is standing. I’ll wait before adding more. I’ll hope more will rejuvenate on their own, find the nourishment to keep on.

The window box ferns are limelight green in the terra cotta pot. They’re happier on the porch in new soil. They must love the chance to grow in the place where death was accepted to invite new flowering.

Life continues. Life reminds.

New days bring new acceptances of our responses that hinder our acceptance of hardship or hope and invite us to know which are best.

To be brave enough to know ourselves and even braver to invite a new perspective.

Or not so new, just remembered.

Redeeming our days, because we’ve been redeemed.

Knowing ourselves in light of knowing the God who knows even more deeply and says I’m with you here, I was with you there.

Go in peace, daughter.

Go in peace.

Be gentle with yourself. Keep growing.

“For you shall go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭55:12‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Grace, Even More

Christmas, contentment, courage, curiousity, Faith, grace, Holy Spirit, hope, memoir, Peace, Salvation, Stillness, wonder

There was no room for them in the inn. Luke 2:7

Let Him in.

Flipping through the pages of this worn book, I’ve been anticipating today. Before it was December 24th, my thoughts have been on this one verse.

There was no room for them in the inn. Luke 2:7

There was no place for Jesus to be welcomed, no place that could have possibly made space for him, Mary and Joseph. So, they walked on until they found an obscure place that would be suitable. Although no one would take them in, Jesus was born and Mary sat and pondered the majesty of it all.

Nothing could stop God’s plan, no earthly inconvenience or obstacle.

I think of “no room in the inn” as a metaphor for the busyness of life, the inconvenience of accommodating Jesus. That may sound harsh, but I believe it can be true. As hard as we try, we fill our schedules and our spaces until we don’t have space for our Lord and Savior.

There was no room for them in the inn.

Yet, he came and he continues to come, born in us as we continue to believe into our being born again

Or maybe you decide to let him in brand new today. Ask for his nearness. Believe he is God’s son who died for you. Confess your sin, the truth that you’re not able on your own.

Let him in.

He giveth more grace, astounding unmerited favor.

On this Christmas Eve as day turns to dusk and then clear starry night, give God room. Let his peace live in you.

Merry Christmas all!

He giveth more grace. Grace to those who refused space to a young woman pregnant and weary, she and baby’s father.

Grace was given those thousands of years ago as Jesus came and they with all the others, the innkeepers, the shepherds, the scholars, the wives and children saw Him, Immanuel.

With them, with us.

Surely, many believed firsthand in this grace, this light of the world.

Maybe some did not.

May it not be so with you.

Selah.

Tender Mercies

Advent, Christmas, contentment, courage, Faith, freedom, grace, hope, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Salvation, surrender, Truth, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom, wonder

Because of the tender mercy of our God…

Luke 1:78

I didn’t realize it at the time, but yesterday on a couple of occasions, I felt God seeing me. I felt Him near. The veil between earth and heaven was translucently thin.

In my car, with a list of places to deliver art and calendars, in between being among hurried and intent on shopping people, a playlist emerged. Songs I hadn’t heard before both caused me to pray and to praise. A deep connectedness to God’s spirit within me, led to warm tears and others to a lifted open hand.

No wonder, I’ve been resting with the words, “Be near me Lord Jesus, I ask you to stay.”

My favorite people in the Bible are the vulnerable and uncertain ones. I’m drawn to Job. I’m strengthened by David. I adore Martha and can relate to Jonah. Thomas, the one who needed proof and wasn’t afraid to admit it. I love the ones who wondered.

“Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”
‭‭John‬ ‭20:29‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Who believe and cling to times when their belief was solidified, made tangible evidence.

The Lord is near.

Believe. Accept the freedom of a sweeter commitment, the language of the heart, not rational.

Heavenly.

Lord, I believe.

I believe in your tender mercies.

In moments so tender,

So tender, a hand on mine, a strong hug.

Love so true, a touch of your hand in mine.

Still, Believe

Advent, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, grace, hope, kindness, mercy, Peace, Prayer, rest, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom, wonder

As Martha was met by Jesus, distraught over the death of her brother, she told Him she still believed in His goodness, in the purpose of Him.

Then, she went to get her sister Mary.

“She said to him, “Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who is coming into the world.””
‭‭John‬ ‭11:27‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Mary stood next to Jesus and asked why he waited so long. Jesus wept.

Then he told the sisters to take him to their brother although it had been four days.

“Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?””
‭‭John‬ ‭11:40‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Lazarus was raised. Jesus told them both and all who had followed out of grief and curiosity, that this was the way God intended it, so that all would believe, not just the sisters.

All, like all of us.

“So they took away the stone. And Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.””
‭‭John‬ ‭11:41-42‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I woke up early, got my journal, books and pen and then felt the need, like a gentle call to read my (actual)Bible.

The Mary and Martha story is good. Always.

God’s timing is not ours.
Don’t give up hope.
Don’t stop believing in the grace, strength, mercy and presence of Jesus.
Look at your life, remember times you asked for help and help came. Times of desperation because of delay of some sort.

Sometimes I pray “God, show us your glory today, come through in a way that it’s clearly you…’cause I’m not able on my own.”

And Jesus has come, has remedied, relieved, given me strength when I am weak.

Believe in Jesus. Believe in his peace.

Happy Friday!

As Sure As The Sun

Advent, confidence, contentment, courage, depression, doubt, Faith, grace, hope, Peace, Redemption, Stillness, wonder
Grace

“And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure,

whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”
‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:7-8‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Whatever you can depend upon, think of such things.

Last night, I realized I hadn’t shared “lovely” things in a while. I started posting pics with the simple words from Paul…whatever is lovely, think about such things, way back in 2019.

I get to watch the sun come up while the toddler is stirring. This morning, it made me want to add a phrase to Paul’s instruction…

Whatever you can depend upon

because I remembered my Father in heaven is as dependable as the sunrise and sunset He made.

The closer I get to Christmas, the more frantic I feel and I remind myself of the hope, the internal goal…peace, joy that is evident in me whatever room I enter. I’m a work in progress, I’m thinking it’s evident.

I recalled my life verse (Isaiah 30:15) early today. I jotted it down…paraphrasing. I’m best when I’m quietly confident, when my repentance leads to rest. I’m at my worst when I strike out on my own, either running from something or trying to rush something on my own.

But grace waits. Grace returns like the tangerine sunrise in the country.

I don’t know what has you fretting or forlorn. Others may think you should’ve long let it go or may consider it trivial. But, your secret concerns are yours as are mine and others’.

It is yours and it’s heavy, there’s no good in comparing our struggles.

As sure as the sun will rise, you are loved by a dependable God. Me too.

Look for the light.

Continue and believe.

Love and Light

Abuse Survivor, Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, grace, memoir, mercy, Redemption, testimony, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder, writing

“That your joy may be full.” Jesus

Imagine being with the most prolific teacher, one you’re humbled, challenged, encouraged and fascinated by.

Grandma Mornings

I had an English professor, Honors English in my Freshman year. She saw my timidity and yet, she gave no mercy when it came to writing. Honesty, brevity, tenacity were her standards, more so than grammar.

Write with honesty. Don’t copy.

Don’t quit.

I left that college and that Honors English professor after barely eight months. Art scholarship and English were sidelined by events uninvited.

I wish I could remember her name, that tiny framed woman who commanded the room.

She taught me about doing hard things. She spoke of choices that would bring joy.

It’s crazy really, the forceful tone she used to cut no corners and instruct me has been my motivation for as long as I can recall.

I was afraid of her. I was unsure.

She told me I belonged in her class and I should never forget it.

I have been writing all my life in one way or another.

My writing lately is cursive, blue ink in my journal and most days an early morning Instagram post.

Honestly.

I honor that petite professor who never played favorites. Shy poor girl me or sorority blonde, she taught us to write and to continue writing.

She left us all with what was important.

Most important.

Jesus left the disciples with many commands that he hoped they’d honor. He told them doing so would lead to joy.

Most of all,

He said, “Love one another”.

Some mornings I read a verse or more and I write a sermon to self. Mornings like today, I share it:

Look for light today, where the love of Jesus falls and changes the simple or hard things.

“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.”
‭‭John‬ ‭15:12‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Years ago, I concluded that God made us all so different, so uniquely difficult in our ways, so individually changed by our circumstances in not always so easy to love ways, so that we’d be challenged to obey the command to love one another.

The greatest commandment isn’t a suggestion.

The other day I “vented” with a friend about difficult people. She listened. I listened. We had things in common. I didn’t feel better for my venting. Wished I hadn’t.

Notice how you feel when it’s a challenge to love others, choose the way of Jesus to do the best you can.

You’ll feel better for trying, for doing what the teacher instructed.

Remember, we don’t know the experiences that lead to the behaviors of others. It really is all about perspectives formed by circumstances.

We just can’t know the whole story of anyone other than the portion they share.

Sometimes that portion is the best or the worst.

Love one another.

Continue and believe.

Write, paint, sing, dance.