kindness

Thoughts on Loneliness

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, fear, hope, kindness, memoir, patience, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom, writing

On the mornings I’m awakened by the birds early, just a couple or three singing outside my window, I sense the key in the door of hope gently turning.

Reminding me I’m never without grace and a decision to privately proclaim,

Today’s a new day!

Birds that dance on the country porch, rest on the arm of the rocker and quickly fly upward when the baby and I decide to get closer.

Their intent it seems is for me to be content in the sighting, not the pursuit.

There’s a verse in my Bible, in the right margin there lives a very faint sketch.

A little country house, yellow with one window and a slight slope of roof, pencil colored gray.

The lines of ink are thin and intentional.

On the roof, there’s a teeny tiny bird.

There are lots of sketches in my Bible that are a bit tender, there are added notes to self that are even more tender.

Someone told me once,

“Your Bible could be in a museum one day.” Drake

This kind soul was not employing flattery, he was and is brave and so very intentional in his observations of life and us as we live it.

Honestly like the psalmist whose words are a juxtaposition of praise and peril, of despair and hope, of beseeching and blessing our God.

The little bird drawing born of timidity in the acknowledgment of loneliness?

“I lie awake; I am like a lonely sparrow on the housetop.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭102‬:‭7‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Oh, how I love a beautiful and brave word.

Months ago, I was gifted a book of Declarations, a compilation of poetic prayers much like the language of the Psalmist.

“Declarations in the Desert – Life Changing Decrees for the Dry and Dusty Valleys of Life” by Tara Sierra Moseley

It’s a book, I’ve read slowly, taking in small doses and then slowly increasing my “treatment”.

It’s a book and a practice in the beginning I decided

I’m not quite there yet spiritually to pray this way, not qualified in the field of faith to pray in such a confident way.

No surprise, this has long been my way of thinking.

Unforced and with ease (the best way for me) I began to pray, to records my words with God as declarations not timid asks or complaints.

Loneliness is a state I’m familiar with. Loneliness, or being alone is a response and a place I’ve often decided is safest for me.

I flee to hide.

I run as fast as I can to avoid conflict or triggers of fears and pain I’ve known.

Running and hiding lead to desperation, not safety, I am beginning to see.

“One thousand will flee at the threat of one, at the threat of five you will flee,

until you alone remain like a solitary pole on a mountaintop or a banner on a hill.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30‬:‭17‬ ‭HCSB‬‬

Alone, on a hill

a tree

stripped of its branches.

And still, I’m gently called like a bird in the morning after a night of nightmares, realizing it was loneliness I saw in the eyes of others at a gathering that led to fitful sleep.

Glad that the birds woke me to invite newness.

Return. This is the way.

Let’s walk together.

Let this be your declaration.

A Declaration

Today is a new day. I declare that you’ve never abandoned me. I declare that Your strength allows me to choose strength and that Your strength is always available.

I declare that you’ve never left me on my own and that you’ve not once been unavailable to me.

I declare my bend towards fleeing and freezing is seen and understood by you and You, Lord are still so confident in the future you’ve made for me.

I declare trust and quiet confidence in this becoming increasingly my every moment hope.

“For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you hope in your latter end.” Jeremiah‬ ‭29‬:‭11‬ ‭RV1885‬‬

Continue and believe, quietly and confidently.

You are never alone and you are loved.

Hope.

Change The Wording

Abuse Survivor, aging, anxiety, contentment, courage, Faith, grace, hope, kindness, love, memoir, mercy, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder
a prayer

Yesterday morning, Christmas morning all misty and mellow, I walked early with Colt, the Labrador.

It was early, phone in my pocket and no pods in my ears, the world was whispering like sounds from a distant violin.

It was not noisy.

The birds sang, the trees ready for rain, rustled.

As a walk often does I was walking to unravel my thoughts, to shake off the embrace that had decided to grab hold, the worry for no reason, the sneaky attempts of changing my hope to dread.

The ways we walk, have walked in our lives…some of us, for most of our days left deep and muddy almost cavernous ruts we gotta decide to step up high and get on a new, undamaged by weather road.

I consider myself late to this learning.

That’s okay.

There’s grace for late in life learning and even more than that, there’s glorious celebration.

A few days ago, it occurred to me that I so less often “thank Jesus for helping me” than I do plead and moan consistently, “Jesus, help me. Jesus, help me!”

And I sort of quietly decided with tears to simply change the wording.

“Thank you, Jesus, for helping me.”

and so I said this on my walk along with the acceptance of “I am weak, you are strong”.

I don’t want to speak too soon (as I’m prone to do) but there’s a change that’s been coming in me and for me and I’m welcoming the newness of it.

The life lived from an embrace of the truth of being RESCUED.

“Jesus, thank you for helping me.”

This prayer can be yours too.

Old and New

Abuse Survivor, aging, bravery, confidence, courage, creativity, family, hope, kindness, memoir, patience, Redemption, Trust, Vulnerability, writing

“Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old.
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭43‬:‭18‬ ‭ESV‬‬

On the top of my “to do” is to download my blogposts as I prepare to move my words from here to Substack.

The question mark is gone, I’ve decided to move. But the questions remain.

Do I print every post? Do I simply save them? Are there words that will cause me to cringe? Are they a spattering of wisdom worth keeping for later sharing, maybe publication?

Yes, to everything.

I sit with my list, the Labrador is so very chill; I believe happy I’m home and not hurried.

I view the YouTube tutorial again.

Okay, I’m gonna do it…

Later.

Not on the list is the closet, the tangled mess of costume, classy and funky necklaces, dysfunction!

I attended a Christmas party last night. I almost didn’t. My closet and its sad collection of not fitting or way too far worn and gone clothing set my tone towards dismay.

I pulled it together and had some pleasant and memorable conversations.

Back down the hall I went today. Before shipping sold art, before painting, before the WordPress cancellation that I must do by Friday.

I started in the back. I touched every garment. I charted the seasons and phases of me.

A period when I bought sweaters oversized and chunky because I thought I’d never be not “plus” any longer.

The too large pieces were jerked from the hangers and began the pile for donation.

Next the “dry clean only” executive pieces, pencil skirts, cardigan, fancy blouses for under blazers. These were the outfits for those days I took the stand in juvenile court to speak unwaveringly confident about the abuses children endured.

Those were the meeting clothes, board meeting or travels to Atlanta.

Interview for promotions attire.

Those are not me, these positions are no longer my calling or service.

Then the “statement necklaces”, a tangled mess were untangled.

A bunch of those were chunked along with a favorite black turtleneck that I decided to sit for “just a second” to paint and ruined the sleeve after an hour.

But a few pieces, I kept.

The Mother’s Day gift tunic, worn transparent from washing.

The fancy camisole I wore to my daughter’s wedding and my mother of the bride dress.

A red sweater because of my mama.

The bluebird blue structured top I wore to the Citadel graduation of my son.

The long sleeve black A-line dress I wore to my mama’s funeral, the shoes as well.

Another black dress, more of a sheath from my thinner days, the one I felt both pretty and presentable in for the first time going to church with Greg.

A necklace made of macaroni, painted purple and threaded on twine, a match for the one Elizabeth made.

A few other things that I treasure were kept.

More than I thought I was able to part with are now ready to be loaded into my car for donation.

The ease of this chore always surprises me.

We can let go if we just begin.

We can begin again if we will just will ourselves to let go.

I hope you’ll follow me to Substack. I’m just there as me, Lisa Anne Tindal.

I hope you’ll see the reason for my move, the decision to be more intentional about writing as one affected by complex trauma.

Writing from a place of my words an offer of hope.

To do no harm, simply be brave enough to be new.

Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭43‬:‭19‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Thanks for being here all these years. I pray you’ll follow.

31 days of good things

aging, Art, bravery, courage, doubt, Faith, hope, kindness, memoir, patience, Prayer, Redemption, Stillness, Trust, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder, writing

Day 26 – Early Morning Acceptance

Before bed, I read a verse about being cared for. I read that the shepherd takes care of his sheep overnight. Sheep don’t have to worry about being fed, of waking rested and ready.

I woke too early on an “off” and open day. The moment I sat with coffee, a thought came.

I’ll share it here as the “good thing” today.

Morning Thoughts

“What are you building and why when I’ve already established your dwelling place?”

I wrote underneath 10/26/23 and my children’s names in a thick circle, is this question.

I pause to consider why, I question the significance of “dwelling” and I imagine eye rolls and even laughter over the “depth of me”.

The more I thought of this question God gave me, I compared this world we live in, these lives we lead of striving and comparing ourselves just to stay “caught up”.

We don’t have to build ourselves up.

We may topple under the weight of the hurried addition to our first or second floor. We neglect the foundation and we envision mansions that represent our lives, when we’d be better as a quaint little three bedroom with a porch.

After all the building for appearance and to comfort ourselves in being enough, we just might find we don’t want to live here anymore, it’s just too much.

And that’s good

That’s a kindness of God to be shown that you are enough, more than and that although you feel worn thin and the structure of the dwelling of you is feeble and tired, there’s still a little corner that’s waiting for you to find yourself acknowledging the exhaustion.

You matter.

The condition of your body and soul, the place where God dwells even when we can’t find Him in the clutter.

Surprisingly, that’s a sweet place, the most beautiful place you’ve known all along.

Maybe, its name is acceptance.

I think so.

God gave me this today. He wants us both to know. We are enough in our dwelling with Him, we don’t have to wear ourselves out in building, renovating or leveling ourselves in destructive manners because we don’t think our “dwelling” measures up.

God has more than we can fathom in the place of us He long ago established.

“I will give you hidden treasures, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the Lord, the God of Israel, who summons you by name.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭45‬:‭3‬ ‭NIV‬‬

You are loved.

Continue and believe.

31 days of good things

Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, creativity, Faith, hope, kindness, mixed media painting, painting, patience, Peace, Redemption, Stillness, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder, writing

Day 21 – Listening

It’s helps that it’s catchy, the wise words for remembering.

Listen, Lisa

Works I Love

I stepped lightly to assess where I may have gone wrong, rushed to edit, didn’t leave “well enough for now and maybe always” alone.

Now, I see.

I should’ve listened to that pull, the voice that said.

This is you.

This is good. Let it rest. Let it be.

There’s no need for a rush to redo. There is no expectation for anything other than that you listened.

Listened attentively.

Listened with no plan of action or scheme.

Listened for the opening that never comes like a bursting, more like an invitation.

Listen and learn.

Contribute to the redemption of where your listen wasn’t necessary at all or steered you wrong.

Remembering, you can’t hear the gentle tone of directions spoken if you’re thinking you got it on your own.

Listen and then, welcome your role in the redemption that made a mess and muddied your message.

Always a good one, led by patience and surrender.

“From of old no one has heard or perceived by the ear, no eye has seen a God besides you, who acts for those who wait for him.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭64‬:‭4‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Continue and believe.

Listen for the love.

31 days of good things

Abuse Survivor, aging, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, family, kindness, love, memoir, Redemption, rest, testimony, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

Day 20 – Being Seen

There wasn’t time for a deeper conversation. There wasn’t the space nor would the talk about the state of my heart, my mind have been able to find space in all the other chatter.

Someone I love and who loves me and is wise, told me later on the phone…

“You looked so tired that day.”

And I did my best to decide whether to say that I was in fact tired, to share with her all the reasons of how I had just been pushing through

or to wait and see if her observation may have invited

a more beautiful conversation.

If she might have time to listen, if I might be brave to clarify. If she might be courageous enough to share her own heart.

Being honest is risky.

I try to recall that day. Was I exhausted or was I just me at 63?

Likely a combination.

But, wouldn’t it be beneficial in a loving way, I thought if she’d have said,

“How’s your soul, what’s on your mind, what’s causing you to feel unwell, what’s brewing underneath that’s about to boil over and you’re trying to keep it under wraps?”

“What’s the thing under the thing”

Then, I would have sensed an offer of hope.

This morning, before I threw off the covers, responded blurry eyed to a ding on my phone, I thought of this longing…to be seen,

to have a sweet conversation about why she thought I “looked so tired”.

I thought of Martha.

I thought of what Jesus told her and how women especially, decide even if in secret, “Mary was his favorite.”

And we know that Jesus was simple telling her to see her sister’s choice to rest as a better choice and still, I wonder…

Could he have elaborated, could he have spoken with more clarity and could Martha have used different language?

“And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.”
‭‭Luke‬ ‭10‬:‭40‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Could Martha have been more vulnerable?

Could she have simply asked the question that prompted warm tears on my cheeks today?

“Jesus, do you see me?”

We likely don’t know the entire conversation, Jesus beckoning her from the kitchen to sit beside her sister.

What if what he meant was simply…you seem so tired, I know your gifts are serving, working, preparing and fixing…

So, come and rest with your sister and I and if you’d like to tell me more I’ll listen.

Many beautiful conversations have been had with the one who pointed out what she saw as my exhaustion.

I know she sees and saw me.

We’ll talk about it soon.

So, today’s good thing?

Being seen.

Who can I truly see today and in an honest exchange allow them to truly see me and then in a conversation that offers hope.

Then, we go on our way

seen, known and loved.

Continuing to believe.

You are loved (more than you’ve been told).

31 days of good

aging, confidence, contentment, kindness, Peace, Redemption, Trust, Vulnerability, wisdom

Day 3 : a smile

She walked poised and steady in the center of the corridor. She must’ve been done with the testing.

I sat in the in between solo waiting space with just one chair. I heard her steps, anticipated my name being called.

Instead, her eyes met mine.

“Good Morning”, she told me and and I answered her in the same greeting.

She smiled.

Smiled and kept walking.

Carried on.

And I remembered a word that came in reply on a quiet walking prayer.

“It’s gonna be alright.”

The promise, very same promise as this morning in the confident smile of a woman in a corridor, a place for tests.

It’s gonna be alright.

😊

“Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come. She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.”
‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭31‬:‭25‬-‭26‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Day 3 – a smile from a kind stranger, good things

31 days of good

Children, contentment, daughters, Faith, family, hope, kindness, Peace, Vulnerability, wonder

Day 2 – gifts

I hurried out to give my daughter her daughter’s forgotten water bottle.

“She wants to tell you something”, my daughter said.

And with a bit of timid and hopeful whisper of surprising me, she said

“I gave you something, a gumball and a frog.”

On the hood of my car in the mist of Monday morning, smack dab in the center, a tiny green frog for her baby brother and for me, a seed pod from a tree, “gumballs” we call them.

Gifts.

I brought them inside, laid them on the counter, gifts for keeping.

I have been given an abundance of many such treasures.

Feathers, pebbles, sketches, smiles, kisses and walks on October mornings.

You?

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

Impressioned

Angels, confidence, contentment, curiousity, Faith, Holy Spirit, kindness, Peace, Redemption, rest, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder

I had to slow my steps, intent on only art canvases, make the beeline to the back and hurry on. No eye contact, small talk time, just me and my fast walking.

I needed to halt or bump into a woman with her son. She had a shuffle step that was familiar, I remembered a mama long ago who had an injury leaving one hip higher than the other. So, I thought this might be her and I’d be able to ask how she’s doing along with her now adult son.

Strangely, it wasn’t her, instead a younger version.

Still, our eyes met and she exhaled a big sigh. I asked “Been shopping all day?” And she replied that they’d been in the street since eight o’clock and she’d been takin’ her mama to all her doctors.

I saw her then, saw her loyalty and I added as I walked beside and then ahead of her,

“I remember those days. They are so hard. Get home and find some rest.”

She nodded, thanked me.

I bought eight 8×10 canvases and carried on.

I noticed the line was short at Chick Fil A and I was thirsty. I ordered my little indulgence, kids meal, fruit not fries and tea and answered “Lisa” as the young man calculated my change.

He asked how my day was going and I said “good” as I sensed the awkward in between, the task of giving me change and so I asked “Are you having a good day?”

His deep dark eyes met mine and the rising up of his chunky cheeks in a smile beamed as he happily answered, “Yes, I am.”

I rounded the drive thru line and watched a couple of boys/young men play “rock, paper, scissors” to determine who’d bring my order.

The one who lost sauntered over to my car and chuckled, “I just took your order!”

I smiled back and said that’s so funny because I was about to ask if you had a brother.

Serendipity, sort of, the chance to share kindness again.

Last stop, Publix for collards for tomorrow. Intentional here too, I have a short mental list and on a mission. The soup aisle is running low on chicken broth and my path intersects with a shopper who doesn’t hesitate to look up and say “Hey! How ya’ doing?”

I smile, realizing I don’t know her and she keeps talking and adds “I’m about to cook a big pot of soup for my family!”

“Sounds good!” I go my way and she goes hers until we’re both in the parking lot, cars loaded and I hear “toot toot” from her little SUV and my eyes meet her excitement in getting to wave goodbye to me, someone she doesn’t know.

I’d say it’s just accidental, this thrice encountering kindness from strangers and reciprocating.

But, since I have a thing for things in 3’s, I know it was heavenly, this afternoon of kind conversation and willingness to be seen.

Unknowingly, three people changed the course of my day from sullen to seeking, from deficient in hope to hoping.

Three people, working in community with my Good Father yesterday.

“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”
‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭13‬:‭2‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Continue and believe.