jubilee

Let The Light In

Abuse Survivor, aging, Art, confidence, contentment, creativity, curiousity, happy, hope, jubilee, memoir, painting, patience, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, Trust, waiting, wonder

Tiny tendrils, tender waxy strands

Breaking free from the thick ball of woodsy nourishment.

My hyacinth has bloomed.

Only $3.99 from Publix in a glass like one on a restaurant’s table

oil and vinegar.

I chose purple this year when I saw the sweet white bursting through the earth in my little spot.

A surprise from two years ago.

Now, the purple is vibrant.

The bulb strong and barely contained, a thick waxy color, aubergine.

The color I’d been seeking to add to the folds of a gown on a painting in progress.

A piece that once was muted grey, ivory and a hint of salmon is now bursting through in cautious but captivating color.

What’s going on, Lisa?

I suppose we shall see.

Days ago, I said a prayer that felt odd but honest.

God, help me to see colors.

Then, the scarlet cardinals came, the line of yellow daffodils against an old shed, the pillowy verdant green moss on the path and

Aubergine, also a name for eggplant is inviting me to see color as more than pretty,

As significant.

I asked to see color.

And color is surprising me with strength.

And light.

And imaginings of beautiful things.

Of unclouded days.

“The eyes of your spirit allow revelation-light to enter into your being. If your heart is unclouded, the light floods in!”
‭‭Matthew‬ ‭6‬:‭22‬ ‭TPT‬‬

Pretty And Strong

Abuse Survivor, aging, bravery, confidence, courage, eating disorder, family, freedom, grandchildren, jubilee, memoir, Peace, Redemption, self-portrait, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder, writing
The Girl Who Made Me Grandma

I came in the back door after a day in the country with grandbaby boy and barely paused.

I grabbed the dog’s leash and tightened my shoelaces.

There was enough daylight still for a walk.

The Labrador deserved it.

He’d been alone all day.

Later, my husband praised my commitment. He said he admired the way I “keep going”, I guess pursuing wellness.

I begged to differ with him and then rethought that and accepted his compliment.

Then I told him, with a strong tone of certainty,

“I probably won’t change in size very much again. I’ve stayed and will stay the same weight for about three years.”

Then, he replied with some sort of observation about his approving view of me from the rear.

This morning, I had a veggie omelet and a piece of bread toasted, slathered in butter and topped with “Braswell’s red pepper” jelly. (IYKYK)

And I remembered the conversation about my body.

I remembered telling my husband, I mostly just want to be and stay strong.

Breakfast memories popped up.

My grandmother, “Bama” in the kitchen in front of the gas stove, rollers in her hair and dressed in a tiny floral print housecoat.

The grandmother who greeted her oldest granddaughter with

“There’s my big ‘ol girl!”

as I wrapped my arms around her leg and sunk my head into her hip.

I’ve been known to say that her greeting marked me. I suppose in some ways it did and it has.

If I’m honest though, there are other more beautiful imprints.

There was the outside play, the daily long walks on dirt roads to come home to ice water in the aluminum pitcher in the Frigidaire.

There were tiny pancakes with tiny pieces of bacon in the center.

There were games of “Scramble” with a notebook of words created by her and as I grew older, my name in a column next to hers.

My name in her Bible, I didn’t discover until she’d passed on.

And wisdom through words about beauty being internal first and only.

“Pretty is

Is pretty does” Bama

I pray and believe my grandmother will greet me one day…my arms outstretched to hers…

She’ll say,

“There’s my pretty girl!”

And I’ll say

Yes, it’s me.

Pretty and strong.

Yes, it’s me.

Here I am.

31 days of good things

aging, anxiety, bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, jubilee, Redemption, Stillness, Vulnerability, wisdom

Day 31 – Trying

If I could’ve driven on up the circular driveway and felt confident I hadn’t been seen on the Ring camera, I would’ve just timidly left.

I sat in church on Sunday next to a woman who invited me to join her women’s small group. The time of their gathering would work for me. The leader of the group, the host called me on Sunday afternoon just as I roused from a nap.

I have a history of not belonging, of being the poor girl in the too tight pants, of being the one longing to stay hidden.

I said yes.

And I sat in the dining room with other women discussing the study of the week.

I spoke up when I felt I had thoughts to contribute. I suppose it was okay.

We don’t talk much about this thing between “women of faith”, this thing of sizing one another up and being curious over what secrets the others hold.

I was welcomed.

And I will find the courage to believe I’ll be welcomed again next week.

Trying is a good thing.

A hard thing.

A brave thing. Women of faith, I’m afraid can be intimidatingly perfect in a sometimes beautiful, sometimes not so beautiful way.

I’ll keep trying.

I won’t hide the colors of my Bible.

I’ll be tender and careful over who sees them.

Happy November tomorrow.

I likely won’t be writing every day.

31 days of good things

confidence, creativity, grace, happy, jubilee, memoir, Redemption, walking, wonder

Day 27 – Music

I scrolled through my podcast offerings needing an accompaniment for my walk.

A walk that would serve to settle me and unravel anxiety before I paint “live” a little later.

I chose music instead and I chose Sandra McCracken.

Her voice reminds me of the music my parents, especially my daddy loved.

She’s a little Loretta Lynn and a little bit Patsy Cline, softer versions of both and yet a voice that’s strong.

When you think of music, what are your memories?

When I hear Edwin McCain, I remember our wedding day. (Edwin McCain is so good in concert, btw).

When I remember my newfound strength as a single mother, it’s Sheryl Crow.

In my car is a burned CD compiled by my daughter. In sharpie letters, it’s marked, “Mama’s Michelob Mix”. Miranda Lambert type vibes when I needed to be a little more free.

If I hear James Taylor, I remember my son as a middle school baseball player. We were on a country road together and he sang along to “You’ve Got A Friend” with me.

Nowadays, I’m listening to Lauren Daigle, Chris Renzema and Steffany Gretzinger.

And Alison, always Alison Krauss.

Sing, it’s good for the soul.

Who needs more advice on being your best self anyway?

“Sing to him, sing praise to him; tell of all his wonderful acts.”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭105‬:‭2‬ ‭NIV‬‬

31 days of good

Abuse Survivor, Art, confidence, contentment, courage, creativity, Faith, grace, hope, jubilee, memoir, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, self-portrait, testimony, Trust, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder, writing

Day 12 – Doodling

Most of my life I’ve been nurtured by the pencil in hand, a piece of paper, a margin that invites.

Art sustains me.

A wise Dr. and author, Curt Thompson reminds often of attachment that we as children needed to be “seen, safe, soothed and secure” and that need is innate. We will always be in pursuit.

Embraced By Grace

Interestingly, adding color to paper and hinting at an emotion are when I feel these needs are known most and met.

How about you?

Is it art?

Music?

Prayer?

or something else.

I hope you know this “withness with God” often.

You are loved.

Even if the child in you lacked one of the “s”’s.

She’s still there, self-aware, surrendered and seeking solace in the sweet places she’s found herself

Seen, soothed, safe and secure.

Continue and believe.

Where I Am

Art, birthday, bravery, Children, confidence, contentment, courage, creativity, Faith, grace, grandchildren, hope, jubilee, memoir, Motherhood, Peace, Redemption, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder, writing

I wonder if it’s a common feeling, the juxtaposition of two pursuits when you become a certain age…

A collector and cherisher of “small things” or an avid “go-after-er” of “limitless”, of all the longings of your heart you’d thought might not be for you, possibilities.

Maybe it’s both in a gentle and knowing of yourself as your Maker made you.

I bought myself two gifts yesterday on my 63rd birthday, a pear shaped candle and a bangle the rich color of jade, the same shade in the “Restoration” collection now available.

There was nothing I needed, I said with ease.

I just wanted those two things.

I came home to birthday cards and there were flower deliveries on the porch that were surprises and only found because my daughter asked “Is there something for you on the porch?”

And there sat two of the most boldly happy arrangements you can imagine, the colors complements of each other.

My son, my daughter ordered flowers, neither knowing the other hoped to brighten my day, yellow roses, lilies and sunflowers.

Patient, on my porch while I piddled around my solitary home, added touches to a canvas I’ll soon take away because they’re too contrived, too hard, not gentle; curled up with an actual book under my quilt and then moved with small and slow steps for the arrival of my daughter and her family.

For birthday swimming.

Dinner and cheesecake with cherries on top.

Later, I sat and lit the candle, knowing it wouldn’t be the same, the waxy drips changing the shape no longer to pear but possibly just a blob.

No telling.

My sister called, the last of my siblings to wish me a Happy Day and we talked past my husband going to bed.

About life, about children, about books, about hope.

About knowing we can never know how our lives or the lives of our children will unfold.

But we can know that to teach them not to expect to always know, only to confidently and gently continue on.

And we can live from that knowing for ourselves and we can carry on, enlightened by life in all the ways hard and soft.

So that we can be our truest selves…mamas, sisters, wives, friends, grandmothers, aunts and whatever our hope without limits leaves on our doorsteps.

We can be where we are because of all we’ve come from and all we now know.

We can love small things and we can believe in the limitless beauty of brave pursuits too.

Continue and believe.

You are loved.

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.