Holy Spirit

Listen

Abuse Survivor, aging, book review, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, Holy Spirit, hope, love, memoir, obedience, Peace, Redemption, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom, wonder
The Still Small Voice

I pulled her book from the shelf with the others, dusty and turned with the red spine toward the wall, because I like simplicity, only the ivory color exposed.

How do I know which books are there?

I have to be a seeker.

On the first page is the author’s signature and a note from when we met years ago,

“God 1st!”

This morning, well rested, I glanced over and saw the book waiting for my devotion of seemingly wasteful time to sit still and read. There’s so many other things to do.

Coffee first and journaling then I turned to Colossians and a familiar few verses.

“Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.”
‭‭Colossians‬ ‭3‬:‭2‬-‭3‬ ‭

A resigned and contemplative shape of a woman in the left margin and notes to self on the edges about how to love others, how to think, how to live.

Now I’m just thinking about the thinking part, about setting my mind on things above.

And the page I could fill of all the things I want here on earth more than I want God.

Naturally, I made a list because I so love a list.

Then summed up what I believe these verses are saying and what this book waiting to be read again, adding new underlines and “oh’s”.

We want “bestness”

To be our very best

and so we look for the path to being best. We look everywhere for evidence of such “bestness” and we don’t really have to look for long.

A screen will pop up with suggestions for pros to help you with being your best. Your inbox will give you instructions from someone who’s an expert on what is the measure of your best and they’re ready to bring you along.

A podcast will guide you in understanding your “number”, your personal markers of trauma and will offer to help you erase that mark in time.

Toward Hope Collection https://thescoutedstudio.com/collections/lisa-anne-tindal-1

These are helpful, they are valuable and yet, not givers of that certain and essential quiet hope that feels like a tender and sweet secret.

Seems we’re all aching, yearning, researching, and striving for “bestness” and maybe in our quests we drown out or subtly buffer the expert voice within, the quiet unwavering, not “in your face”, unchanging, uncomplicated voice of God, our Creator, the very author of our unfinished book.

We have a bend towards not being needy, of believing we should be far enough along to not need and absolutely not to ask for help.

We (maybe just me) are timid in acknowledging we still struggle, we still look for evidence of our value in many things, we still wish we were farther along in our walk with with God, after all.

We resist circling back and beginning yet again which is crazy because it’s in the necessity of just us and God knowing this that we can have a sweet and private revival.

It’s a simple Sunday. The birds are singing. It’s a stay home day.

Later, I’ll open the book with my name inside and I’ll begin again, the wisdom in the admission of the need for revival.

“I Want God”, by Lisa Whittle

https://www.lisawhittle.com/books

Because I’m sixty-three years old and in my life, I’ve done a whole lot of growing and am a pretty good “knower” of me.

But, God knows me better.

Knows me more.

You too.

We are loved.

Continue and believe.

God knows you more, loves you with a merciful call every day.

“When you turn to the right or turn to the left, you will hear his voice behind you to guide you, saying, “This is the right path; follow it.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30‬:‭21‬ ‭TPT‬‬

Prayer As Color

Abuse Survivor, anxiety, Art, bravery, confidence, courage, creativity, curiousity, freedom, grace, grandchildren, grief, Holy Spirit, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, traumatriggers, Trust, Vulnerability, walking, wisdom, wonder

We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair;
‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭4‬:‭8‬ ‭NIV‬‬

I reached down to be sure what his little hand clutched. A tiny pebble under close inspection before he stood and let it go, flinging it with strong conviction into the wide grey sky.

We began our walk hoping to miss the rain.

We did.

The trail is new. The path is hilly but smooth, a firebreak for the wide field of brush and trees.

I had a sense I’d been trying to shake all morning, a feeling that even though all was okay, I better be ready for the day to change, for something to go the other way.

I’m writing less about my trauma, a blend of keeping quiet and of looking more closely at wounds than ever before.

Like a little boy inspecting a pebble or stick, I’ve been quietly inspecting the hurts I’ve known in a much more intentional way.

With brave curiosity and braver acceptance…stages of grief.

So, that ache of readying to be ready for something bad is familiar and not at all friendly.

We walked and held hands and watched from a distance

Until the gift of freedom and hope ignited the sweet “setting out” on his own steps of my grandson.

And the weight of worry began to lift.

And I breathed deeply.

Looked around.

Looked up.

Prayed silently.

Added music to our walk.

Reached down with curiosity to touch a mottled leaf to discover the other side, rich in the color of fresh blood, of wine, vibrant.

I slipped it in my pocket, little “H” reached for me, both arms up and I responded as we turned for home.

Sensing the comfort of God, the assurance my fears and protective patterns are not hidden, are well known

And nurtured by God in a way that no longer leads to shame.

My vulnerabilities with God are no longer perceived fodder for Him to refute my faith.

Instead, an invitation to grace and bravery

mercy extended to me by myself.

“Grandma day” mornings begin early. My quiet time is brief and blurry.

I opened my journal to jot February 28, 2024 to discover one sentence from yesterday.

“Jesus, help me to see you today.”

Knowing, suddenly He had.

He did.

The color red, the deep crimson colored leaf like aged wine had been poured for me, left in the dirt, on a long ago fallen leaf, a cup with just a sip waiting for me to drink.

I’d been asking to see color.

Yesterday, the request was different and the answer was love.

”Mercy, peace and love be yours in abundance.“
‭‭Jude‬ ‭1‬:‭2‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Continue and believe.

You are loved.

Certainly

Abuse Survivor, aging, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, fear, grace, Holy Spirit, hope, memoir, mercy, patience, Peace, Redemption, Trust, Vulnerability, wisdom, writing

I’m reading a book my sister recommended and thinking there was a time I would never have read it.

A struggle between good and evil would’ve decidedly led to me deciding it was evil and putting it on the shelf, washing my hands of it.

The author can’t decide whether she believes God exists.

It wouldn’t be hatred of her or even judgment that would’ve have led to my banning of her book, of her.

It would be a tangible fear, a fear that the thoughts and questions of another might somehow taint my mind, lead me forever astray.

I might “be in trouble”.

You see, there are choices embedded in me, pounded into my head and heart by the angry preacher yelling at me, a chubby adolescent, an intimidated child who just wanted to belong.

To be safe and loved.

And learned to believe that according to God, to belong meant finding wrong in others, telling them about their sin and then never ever associating with such a person.

That’s why I still have this fear that a writer or just a person different than me, might somehow have the special powers to lure me, change me, make me unacceptable to God.

To be unlovable.

I think often of how this fear of being not faith filled enough, about being certain of being right and all the others wrong

Kinda caused me to make some unkind conclusions about others.

To utter unkind words.

Thinking their faith was false when I had no idea or evidence of such.

It was just a response that came from a mark left on a little girl.

Girl becoming a woman seeking perfection to avoid shame, girl becoming woman who waited to be condemned, never comforted.

Girl becoming a woman who always felt but only recently told God so…

“I feel like you’re punishing me, God.”

A woman with a tear soaked face who rose from the floor better for telling God so.

Sensing Him say, “I knew you felt that way, now you’re feeling better already because you weren’t afraid to tell me.”

And that feeling was very certain. God, you love me after all.

The author, Kelly Corrigan in her chapter of her book “Tell Me More” explores the simple response, “I don’t know.”

And it’s an honest choice she expresses.

A private one too.

I’m certain of God’s love. I have more reasons than that memoir idea I keep dancing around would have space for.

I do believe.

It’s a choice and on questioning days I ask God with raw honesty, the questions I used to believe I’d go straight to Hell for even having.

My faith is a winding path, has been mostly.

But, I’m beginning to notice with certainty that the path is becoming more simple, more solid, more sure.

And I’m certain that straightaway road has come in gradual honesty, brave questions and a settled stillness to open my heart and mind, no longer afraid to wonder.

Continue and believe.

Your life, every bit of it is your teacher, your listening and patient guide.

You are loved.

Begin to Live

aging, Children, contentment, courage, Faith, family, fear, Holy Spirit, hope, memoir, patience, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, Salvation, Stillness, waiting, wisdom, wonder
God is Near

Mingled in a dream that included family at the beach as well as unfamiliar children asking to play on a trampoline, I am recalling “Psalm 90”.

The Spirit of God interspersed just that in a dream that included my mama being a given a healing prognosis, “Now, you’ll have a chance to really live!”

Maybe it was the beautiful and educational sermon on Sunday on heaven.

“Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever you had formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭90‬:‭2‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Maybe it was the call from “Aunt Boo” my mama’s sister. She talked about crocheting. Maybe I tucked away the visual of her teaching my mama, the memory of their back and to sister chatter.

Who knows? Around 3, I woke and tossed and then recited mentally, over and over, Psalm 23.

Imperfectly still, after all these years of using this chapter to calm me. For some reason, portions and not the entire Psalm linger longer than others and I drift off to sleep.

Note the commentary

All my days have been a meandering sort of trail. A pause to consider, I’ve been in the darkness, I’ve lived in the dread, I’ve found myself off course because of conflict or circumstance.

David knew. He did too.

And so, his words aren’t ones of a perfect follower. Instead, a perfect “returner” to the place where he and God dwell together safely.

I used to believe “all the days of my life” meant the actual dwelling place of Jesus…heaven.

Again, instead…David is acknowledging and giving us permission to acknowledge the beauty we can claim as our own here…

As long as my lungs are providing me with breath and my heart is beating…I am dwelling with God, and He with me.

We are together.

I am known. I am seen.

I am invited to keep returning to rest.

Why Psalm 90 mixed in with a captivating dream of life getting another chance for my mama?

Psalm 90 is one penned by Moses.

It opens with this.

“Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭90‬:‭1‬ ‭ESV‬‬

There were other people in the big bright room with my mama, not just my brothers and sister. My children were there too.

Psalm 90 closes with an acknowledgement of what had not and has not been without affliction. Moses offers us his prayer back then as a promise and prayer we can choose today.

“Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us, and for as many years as we have seen evil. Let your work be shown to your servants, and your glorious power to their children.

Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, establish the work of our hands!”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭90‬:‭15‬-‭17‬ ‭ESV‬‬

“Favor” here meaning “beauty”.

Return to beauty today.

Embrace grace. More than you expected, the grace you’ve been shown.

The grace that you know.

Continue and believe.

Dwell in peace.

“Now you can begin to live”, the words promised to my mama in my dream.

And to us all.

Begin.

Begin again.

Wounded Weepers and Seekers

aging, contentment, courage, Faith, grace, Holy Spirit, obedience, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Trust, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder

I wondered as I refreshed my memory on the prophet Jeremiah, why he’d been marked with the identity of the “weeping prophet”.

“You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.”
‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭29‬:‭13‬ ‭ESV‬‬

His call was to restore the people he loved to a relationship with God the creator rather than pursuit of other gods and things.

He wasn’t very successful. His success was committed obedience regardless.

Strange Waking Words

Jeremiah asks, “Is there no physician there? Is there no balm in Gilead…why then has the health of my people not been restored?” (Jeremiah 8:18-22)

On Tuesday morning, God woke me with a promise, “there is a balm in Gilead”.

A lingering cough and congestion with no other symptoms caused me to decide I’m getting older and I just don’t bounce back as quickly. Still, it was strange to wake with that very first thought.

Clearly, my heart was in need as well as my body.

Still, strange if it’s difficult to believe what you can’t see…that Jesus lives within us, the Holy Spirit…the comforter.

So, to be told, “Lisa, there is a balm in Gilead.” (just that clearly) was to remind me of the Healer of all my wounds, those already well and those in the process of true wellness.

I had no idea. I understand balm as sort of a salve like Neosporin but no clue about Gilead.

I discovered there’s no verse with this promise, only one that questioned why wasn’t there, why was there no balm?

And old hymn came from this same wondering of someone long ago…

“There Is A Balm In Gilead”

Traditional Spiritual

There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole, there is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin-sick soul.
Sometimes I feel discouraged and think my work’s in vain, but then the Holy Spirit revives my soul again.
There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole, there is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin-sick soul.
If you cannot preach like Peter, if you cannot pray like Paul, you can tell the love of Jesus and say, “He died for all.”

So, I sketched a wounded and contemplative woman in the margin, the words alongside her…There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole.

She’s thoughtful, a wonderer.

That’s a beautiful promise.

Listen

Lord, I was near enough to your heart to hear this the other morning. Draw me nearer, I pray. Help me to be a seeker.

Jeremiah penned the verses adorning well wishing cards at graduation, the ones that proclaim we all have a purpose and I wonder; actually, I believe he questioned his purpose when it didn’t pan out, when it seemed it nor he made a difference in his calling.

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”
‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭29‬:‭11‬ ‭ESV‬‬

There’s not always a straight path, life circumvents what we hoped would be our future or at least would give us hope.

Jeremiah wondered why there was no healing, no physician, no balm in Gilead and centuries later, someone penned the words to a hymn that promised healing, one that said, there wasn’t a balm then; but, then came Jesus.

And Jesus woke with me the words to that very song.

Strange? Not at all.

A wounded seeker He knew was in need.

Continue and believe.

You are so very loved.

Wilderness Words

Abuse Survivor, Art, bravery, courage, creativity, curiousity, Faith, family, Holy Spirit, hope, painting, patience, Peace, Redemption, revival, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder, writing

“Why do you use/love weird words?” one or both of my children.

In some form or fashion, the question often came. And I’d say what was true.

“I love words. If we’ve got ‘em we need to use them.”

I have an old dictionary, 1962 Webster’s. The pages are the color of clay and smelly.

But, I love words. I just do. God woke me with the question again of why I have a pattern of making myself small, why small feels safe. A word came, do I try to “diminish” my worth? Alone and small feels safe. And yet, I am certain there’s only a tiny bit I know of all who might be influenced by my story, by my creative expression.

There’s safety in being diminished. I looked the word up in the old dictionary and it’s just what I thought, “to make less, weaken, impair”.

God led me to Exodus. The people were discontent with the bountiful provision. Most translations say they were “grumbling” and yet, the more appropriate and earlier translated word was “murmuring”.

Dancing Leaves, one of 3

Again, I go to Webster. To murmur is to “utter complaints in a low doleful sound”. And “doleful” is a sound that someone makes when they are sorrowful or in dismay.

The whole congregation of Israel was “grumbling”. In the ESV version, the word is used eight times in Chapter 16.

I’m the KJV, the word is “murmurings”.

“I have heard the murmurings of the children of Israel: speak unto them, saying, At even ye shall eat flesh, and in the morning ye shall be filled with bread; and ye shall know that I am the LORD your God.”
‭‭Exodus‬ ‭16‬:‭12‬ ‭KJV‬‬

Yesterday, I saw faces of grocery store shoppers. I saw a dullness, an apathy, a less than attentive glance to those around them. I saw “doleful” expressions.

Why does one word matter? Murmuring comes from dismay. Grumbling is well just more of a selfish grouchiness.

It matters because of the invitation to know that God sees you, hears your quiet complaint. God is provision. Your woeful or questioning wilderness is being noticed.

And just as the Lord told the Israelites even in their hopeless state…I cared for you. He is caring for me.

For you.

For the generations that are here and to come because of you.

“And Moses said, This is the thing which the LORD commandeth, Fill an omer of it to be kept for your generations; that they may see the bread wherewith I have fed you in the wilderness, when I brought you forth from the land of Egypt.”
‭‭Exodus‬ ‭16‬:‭32‬ ‭KJV‬‬

The Things I Think

Abuse Survivor, anxiety, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, creativity, Holy Spirit, memoir, patience, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, Vulnerability, wonder, writing

With a tiny bit of trepidation and the need to refresh my memory, I’ve just searched to find a short devotion I submitted for publication that was rejected.

I often am met with puzzled expressions or worse, a squinty eyed and wrinkled forehead over the things I say, the things I think.

I responded to a poll by an author who is studying brain science, how the science of the brain is effected by relational trauma.

I typed…

“I’d love to know if memories of trauma can ever completely go away?”

Once, in a conversation with a clinician friend who is an expert in all things amygdala related, I proposed

One day, what if one day, scientists discover how to surgically remove traumatic memories from the brain?

My friend looked at me, knowing I was serious and it seemed, she was deeply moved by such an imaginative hope.

I realize I’m sometimes too much for some people.

I reread my submitted devotion, maybe too heavy or even “far fetched” over the possibility that Jesus might have a mind like mine. Or maybe, the tone was wrong, less than perfect grammar or perhaps, it was not a fit for a book of 40 days to a stronger, more courageous mind I suppose.

Rejection doesn’t bother me as much as before. I love writing. I’m owning my voice, honesty and all.

So here’s what I wrote:

A Mind Like Mine, Is it Possible?

Lisa Anne Tindal

Key Verse: “For who has understood the mind of the Lord so as to instruct him?” ‘ But we have the mind of Christ.” I Corinthians 2:16 ESV

Countless days I have felt the unwelcome weight on my chest, the creeping up of vice-like unrest brought on by my thoughts.The recurring nuisance of anxiety for no reason that feels like entrapment.

I pause and question the cause. I say private prayers, take long walks and do something creative with my hands. I clean. I rearrange shelves or entire rooms. I do some stretches. I put my legs against the wall and my hands on my chest.

I remind myself of the most important, although not instantaneous response.

I remind myself that my loving Father would never desire or cause me to feel this way. I recall the promise in II Timothy, written by Paul, a prisoner awaiting execution. I say to myself, “This feeling is not from God.”.

“…for God gave us not a spirit of fear but of power and love and self-control.”  II Timothy 1:7 ESV

I also remind myself of Paul’s words that assert we are able to understand our Father God because we have the mind of Christ. Our minds are changed, comforted, informed by the Holy Spirit in us when we accept Jesus as our Savior. 

“For who has understood the mind of the Lord so as to instruct him?” ‘ But we have the mind of Christ.” I Corinthians 2:16 ESV

The thought of having the mind of Christ captivates me and stirs curiosity over the characteristics that would define such a mind.

So, I created a poll on Instagram, added a little note saying “doin’ some research”. I asked my followers to give me a word to describe the mind of Jesus. There was nary an answer, lots of hearts and likes, but no participation in the poll.

Could it be the question was beyond actually believing that our minds could be “Jesus-like”?

Just last week, questions over a decision prompted questions of God.

“Why the resistance to your call on my life?” 

“Have I ever felt that I knew your will without question, or have I spent my whole life making iffy choices that you’ve redeemed?” 

“What is your will for me God?” I opened my Bible to search for a verse in Micah. Instead, my eyes met a sketch I’d created on the pages of Joshua.

A woman with a posture of listening and my handwriting reminding, “Incline your heart to the Lord.” ( Joshua 24:23 ESV) and boldly circled verses with the words,sincerity, faithfulness.

Sincerity and faithfulness,

I would insert in the IG poll because I have known my Savior to be sincere in His faithfulness to me.

I wonder how my fear, anxiety and resistance might fade if I dared to believe that because I have the mind of Christ, with humble grace I could say in time, “His mind is like mine.”

What a beautiful thought worth embracing.

I can be sincere, and I can choose faithfulness. My mind can be without torment.

My mind can be changed by my heart’s position. My mind can be gently faithful and with sincerity, become more content, less shaken.

Confidently, “more me”.

A Prayer: 

Lord, you understand our minds unrelentingly. You lead us to be questioners in your Will. You answer. You calm. You strengthen our minds. You help us see ourselves from your perspective. You help our minds to connect with our hearts and to be still, to know what is good, acceptable and perfect according to you.Incline us to your heart, Lord. We will trust that our minds will follow.

I’m not sure I’m a devotion writer. I’m not sure about writing at all. I’m only sure that as I write, as I grow.

I’m less bothered by this “enigmatic” mind of mine.

Continue and believe.

With sincerity and faithfulness, you are deeply loved.

As am I.

Distance and Love

Abuse Survivor, Art, birthday, bravery, courage, creativity, curiousity, Faith, family, Forgiveness, Holy Spirit, jubilee, memoir, patience, Peace, Redemption, rest, Vulnerability, wonder

I saw the man again on Monday but, yesterday I wasn’t paying attention. I neglected to glance over to find the front yard of the trailer hidden in a shady hollow place.

Overgrown it was the day I saw the pair standing so far apart they would need to raise their voices.

The grass was high like wheat and a man with a flock of blonde hair all crazy stood with his hands crossed and a positioning of his torso saying “I ain’t staying much longer.”

Facing him was another man, his head tilted to one side in a way that said sincerity.

I wondered about the relationship.

Father, step-father, mama’s friend, uncle or older brother.

I wondered who had caused the crack in relationship and who was resisting more the reconciliation of it.

I also wonder why I wonder. Why I see humans in conditions that are fragile and why God made me to want those conditions to be better.

I know God made me this way and somehow I know the intervening is not for me to accomplish, only God.

So, I pray for strangers. I just do.

And I think about them. I still pause to consider.

“What’s their story?”

I woke with thoughts about love this morning, about the importance of “for my part” demonstrating love.

Love that doesn’t put us in danger of emotional harm is just a positioning of our hearts and mind, we can stay safe in showing love when it’s hard by just deciding we want restoration for someone, we want them to know they are loved by their Creator and if they’ll allow it, by others too.

“Relationship, especially family, requires a commitment to relationship despite differences, dysfunction, and most importantly delays in the other person longing in the same way for relationship.”

I laid still in the place of very good and needed rest and questioned why these words came.

I figured it must be that I’m still curious about the family in the overgrown yard.

I saw the older man a second time. Tall and skinny, a bearded man with baggy britches and an oddly colored pipe dangling from his mouth.

He was swaying in a rhythm with a weed eater as he cleared and cleaned the high grass and weeds.

He was making the situation better.

There was contentment in his movements.

Maybe in the knowledge that he tried and is trying. So, I’ll drive past the place of these two people again next week and I’ll believe the best is being done to restore what’s been neglected or wronged.

And I’ll believe more strongly in the truth of love being demonstrated in small ways to invite change (even if we don’t get to see it).

Because, it’s not about us anyway, it’s about the one who’s messed up and in need of love believing it may be possible…

Restoration.

“God is a restorative God. He is restoring all losses.” John Eldredge, author of “Get Your Life Back”

Continue and believe.

“Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins.”
‭‭1 Peter‬ ‭4‬:‭8‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I discovered yesterday that 2023 marks a “Jubilee” year for me as I approach my birthday. It’s surprisingly tender, this discovery…almost too difficult to put into words. Maybe I will, maybe I’ll just rest in the discovery of a year symbolic of release and restoration.

There are no coincidences with God.

Hiding Myself In Him

Angels, courage, Faith, fear, heaven, Holy Spirit, memoir, patience, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, Salvation, Trust, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder

“And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”
‭‭Revelation‬ ‭21‬:‭5‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Morning Window

A dream kept me trapped for a time last night. Scientists say (I’ve heard) dreams are really just seconds, maybe minutes and yet they feel so very lasting, so lengthy, so binding.

You want to disengage your body from the story your deep sleep mind is telling.

Dreams are intriguing, often troubling.

I find myself mentally inventorying my meals, my television input, the words read before sleep. I search for the reasons for dreams that are scary, always deep.

Last night I dreamt of being in a tiny town where all were being required to be taken away. The ones who returned told stories of fear, told of being entrapped, of being forced to harm others, of being unable to see because of a poison emitted from some unavoidable place.

And I got separated from my group, they never came back and kindness met me in the place in between going or staying and

I woke up.

Shaken by yet another dream I couldn’t see the reason for.

I had chocolate milk before sleep. I watched the Braves lose and hated it because it was my cousin’s husband’s birthday and Atlanta should’ve won for him.

I read Psalms and Proverbs before sleep. The bed was comfy, the room was cool.

And I laid still as the dream slipped from heavy to safe and I said to myself the lyrics of “Rock of Ages”…cleft for me,

Let me hide myself in thee.

Knowing the dream wasn’t so much a nightmare as a vision (please know I’m not assigning any special qualifications to myself…if you know me, you know I’d never do that!).

But, I do know the dream wasn’t about present day, it was about the end days that are coming.

Yes, “end times”.

I will stop here because I don’t talk about things I’m not fully equipped to explain.

I’m a learner. I am learning through the Holy Spirit’s voice spoken uniquely to me.

As to you if you believe.

In the dream, I was kept safe from suffering. I lingered in showing up to the “required sign in”. I didn’t surrender my soul to what these captors required.

And I was left unharmed, a man with a smile comforted me and I woke up.

I can’t begin to explain the supernatural and sovereign ways of God.

I just know what used to scare the s**t out of me, yelled from an angry and judgmental pulpit, now feels like a treasure,

the sweet scent of the nearness of God, the unveiling slowly and steadily revealing the goodness, no greatness of a God who loves me.

God loves me.

God loves you.

Years ago, I wrote about birds and the message continues, in more tangible ways.

I am cared for.

This morning, the mama returned then flitted away once she saw me in the window.

There’s only one tiny bird in this nest I assumed the mama had abandoned.

Now, I hear a tiny sound.

I hear a life beginning.

I pray you see God today, feel him, sense him, know there’s so much more than earth for us.

I pray he surprises you with goodness, with His glory.

Last month, I longed to ask a friend who’s ambivalent about God, even more so about Jesus and certainly skeptical about a spirit longing to be inside her, Holy.

A simple question.

Have you ever considered what your life might look like if you decided to believe in Jesus?

I know it seems a given, but it’s one worth asking every day.

“Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”
‭‭Matthew‬ ‭6‬:‭10‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Continue and believe.

You are loved.

Looking Intently

Abuse Survivor, anxiety, birds, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, fear, Forgiveness, Holy Spirit, kindness, memoir, Peace, Redemption, Stillness, surrender, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom, wonder

I stood still to find it again and then the bird perched in boldness and just waited on the top of the tomato cage. Its belly was brilliant, glistened like silk. It seemed untouched, unmarred, original and articulately designed.

At first, I thought “a tomato already?”. A brilliant spot of red amongst the lush green growth of vine.

You are loved by God.

Two pages of my journal are covered in words in reply to the question, how does God see me?

I finished Henri Nouwen’s “The Return of the Prodigal Son”. There are multiple asterisks in the margins and many underlines.

I paused here yesterday. Read and reread about A First and Everlasting Love.

“For a very long time I considered low self-esteem to be some kind of virtue. I had been warned so often about pride and conceit that I came to consider it a good thing to deprecate myself.” Henri Nouwen

Nouwen reminds of Psalm 139, that before we opened our eyes to life, God had brilliant plans already decided in the way He made us.

Often, I think of the beauty of being wonderfully made and not so much the “fearfully” part. What does it mean to us that we are made “fearfully”.

I would say it means “well-made”, not haphazardly, not without intention and plan, well-thought, very, very distinct and worthwhile.

So, I continue to return to the truth for me and for you.

We are valuable according to God and that value doesn’t change according to the limitations I know like fear, self-destructive patterns, lack of confidence and/or lack of the notice of others.

This is the “footprint” I want to leave here when I’m gone.

Your value is not determined by what has happened to you or what you hoped would and did not.

Your value is according to God. He fearfully planned it for you to discover just how “wonderful” you are.

Your value is not determined by the plans of God that got trampled by malice, meanness or evil decisions of another.

Your value remains untainted, to be discovered with sweet and steady intention…you keep going towards it.

Continue and believe.

“I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭139‬:‭14‬ ‭ESV‬‬