The Book of Luke – 24 Days of Jesus, An Advent Experience

Advent, Angels, Art, bravery, Children, Christmas, courage, doubt, grace, kindness, love, memoir, mercy, painting, Prayer, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, waiting, wonder, writing

Possible Impossibilities

I wake to have my interest peaked as I scan my emails. Try, try again or consider those kind of doors closed?

The idea of submission has captured me again.

Lord, tell me what to say.

Jesus had a captive audience. His presence caused men, women and children to be drawn towards him.

He was a teacher enthused over his lesson plan, he wanted everyone who listened to learn, to be changed by their learning.

He sat one day on the edge of a fishing boat, the fishermen must have called it a day and so Jesus perched himself on the edge and faced the crowd who had gathered on the shore.

Big crowds must have followed him all around, maybe pausing to answer others’ curious questions.

Where are you going?

Who is this man named Jesus anyway?

Why are you following him?

Isn’t he just Joseph’s son?

Do you really believe what they’re saying?

Have you actually seen him do the things people are saying he can do?

Could it be possible?

Simon thought he knew more than Jesus. Jesus told him to let down the nets, to put the boat back in the water, to go and try again.

Simon told Jesus we’ve tried all night and no luck, essentially “nary a bite” man!

Jesus told him try again.

“Getting into one of the boats, which was Simon’s, he asked him to put out a little from the land. And he sat down and taught the people from the boat. And when he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.” And Simon answered, “Master, we toiled all night and took nothing! But at your word I will let down the nets.” And when they had done this, they enclosed a large number of fish, and their nets were breaking. They signaled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both the boats, so that they began to sink.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭5:3-7‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I have a paperweight on my desk that says “something wonderful will happen today”, another that says “you haven’t failed until you give up” and a solid and smooth rock engraved with one word, “soar”.

On occasion I notice them, rarely really.

Instead I recall unexpected rescues, kindnesses that correct my budgetary mistakes, staff who encourage me, endure my negativity and cynicism.

A family who supports my work, supports and stands by me.

I see God coming through in ways that come from my keeping on, keeping an even keel.

I know the bountiful catch is coming and I put down my net and maybe just wait. I do my part, I rest.

I listen to sincere encouragement, I discern in the faces and reactions and even the decisions of others.

Whether here or there or even anywhere, are the places I place my words and my art, the places I “let my net down” that came back empty before, now possibly to reap a joyful multiplication that will honor God, nudge others towards Him.

Jesus, God’s son came to earth to use earthly objects and experiences to teach us to hope.

Teachable moments like a burnt out and hopeless fisherman, expert at his trade who wasn’t having a good fishing day.

Jesus suggested he try again.

Advent, a time to prepare ourselves for the hope of Christmas.

Jesus, the Messiah.

He is our hope, the hope of all mankind.

We must do these things we think we cannot do, we must believe again in the possible impossibilities.

What will you try, try again that you thought you may as well give up?

Big things have small beginnings and small things with repetition and resolve come through.

Try. Try again.

The Book of Luke – 24 Days of Jesus, an Advent Experience

Advent, Angels, Art, Children, contentment, courage, daughters, family, hope, kindness, love, memoir, mercy, Motherhood, painting, praise, Prayer, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

It Matters to Me

Luke, Chapter 3 is evidence of the writer’s intellect, I decide. Luke, a physician explored and recorded the lineage of Jesus. It would be easy to avoid the 15 verses with challenging names, like skipping over the Book of Leviticus on yet another plan to read through the Bible.

But, it is relevant, this lineage, this record of ancestry.

All the relatives of Joseph and thereby Jesus, the Son of God.

“the son of Enos, the son of Seth, the son of Adam, the son of God.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭3:38‬ ‭ESV‬‬

It matters to me, the humanity of Jesus, the lining up of people, just like the people lined up before me.

Makes me reflect on our genetics and our similarities, the ones before me, making straight my way through the memories of their own ways.

“Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall become straight, and the rough places shall become level ways,”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭3:5‬ ‭ESV‬‬

My grandma made the best of paths she may have thought might be straight, she made it through the crooked places and leveled her life with scripture and determination, she always made a way.

I told my “Aunt Boo” that I felt my grandma with me and in me. I’ve sold hand-painted Christmas cards this year.

I remembered her carefully designing her velvety Christmas ornaments, covered in pieces and parts of old jewelry.

She used the long stick pins and carefully created elaborate pieces. I see her now.

She’s in the room they added on, the double bed filled up the room and there was space just wide enough for her beside it. She retreated to this place, I was invited in to sit quietly on the bed.

A dresser was covered with sectioned flat containers, sparkly, metallic, extravagant and antique. She stood for hours, her tiny frame steady, her hands working constantly. No words spoken and her mouth set just so, her tongue tipped up toward the curve of her lip, peeking through, she worked with her mouth “set just right”.

She was industrious. She placed the ornaments in big flat boxes and with her little memorandum pad, she loaded her car and she made her deliveries.

I am forever impacted by her choice to pursue something so joyful, to do something that was fully and completely her choice to do.

It matters to me, this characteristic of my grandmother in me.

I’ve been selling my art again.

Luke reminds us that everything is purposeful and everything matters.

In the first verses of Chapter 3, John begins to tell of a new concept, repentance and forgiveness of sins. Isaiah the prophet had written of John, a voice that would come from the wilderness. The same John who “jumped” in his mother, Elizabeth’s womb while in the room with Mary, pregnant with Jesus, this John would baptize many and baptize Jesus.

And Jesus heard his father, God say, “you are my son”.

“Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heavens were opened, and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form, like a dove; and a voice came from heaven, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.””

‭‭Luke‬ ‭3:21-22‬ ‭ESV‬‬

It’s doubtful I’ll ever be a theologian, doubtful I’ll return to any further education.

Life and God are my teachers now.

Life, the enormity of it around me, exposure to wisdom, thoughts, experiences. God helps me see the relevance of Him in it all.

I’ve just finished reading an article I’ll read again and maybe more. The wisdom of a man over why his ancestry is significant, why clarity matters, why approaching things hidden or unexplored is something we all should do.

It is never too late.

Two gentlemen, both guys who are wise and caring and ones I respect, pointed me in the direction of this piece.

Bruce Springsteen

We are all individuals formed by those who made us. Our heredity is more than physical, it is experiential.

It is a brave choice to consider the weaving of our ways, to look at them and say, oh, I see now this horrible or wonderful thing, how it made me, me.

Some might wonder what these thoughts have to do with Christmas. I get that.

I don’t know why; but, I said a long series of “thank you, Gods” beside my bed today. It began and then just became a spontaneous building of more and more. God kept up the conversation, brought to memory all of my before to say hey, look at now!

This life I have, this life I know.

It is absolutely a life of hope. My lineage and my life experiences at one time convinced me it could never be so.

Like Luke details the way the 30 year old Jesus came to be, it is similar for you and me.

The breath of heaven that brought Jesus is the same breath of God that created you and me.

On purpose and with purpose that life causes us to sometimes lose. I told someone yesterday I wish I hadn’t returned to art so late in life.

One of my thank yous this morning was that I am here and I have art and life and so much more.

I have hope.

Advent, the days before Christmas, these are the days to have hope.

It matters to me that my grandma chose hope, that she became independent in her pursuit of making beautiful things, that she was about my age when she began this thing that kept her captivated, made her feel significant, brought joy to so many.

It matters to me that I got to see what I didn’t understand as hope back then, but understand it now.

She prepared the way for me. I pray I’m preparing the way for my own daughter, my son and all the other children yet to come.

Luke, a Book about the life of Jesus. I’m no seminarian, I’m just sharing what he’s bringing to light …24 Days of Jesus, my Advent Experience.

Hope.

November Like Grace

bravery, courage, eating disorder, Faith, fear, freedom, grace, grief, kindness, love, memoir, mercy, Peace, Prayer, Stillness, suicide loss, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized

Yesterday, the tiniest of yellow leaves were dancing down around my friend and I. We were happy to be likeminded over loving the frenzied leaves falling down, likeminded in our acceptance of our imperfections and our wonderings. We didn’t say so, but now

I think we both were thinking likely, of grace.

November, I welcomed you! Hard to say clearly why. Surely it’s not the hustle and bustle of holiday coming that makes holiday so unholy, so hurried and so “un” divine.

October felt so lengthy, intense, its work , its worries and its waiting.

November, for some reason felt like corner turning, drawing nearer to the fruition of a more solid settling.

And then yesterday and later, I heard of death by suicide and I read a sister’s story of her brother’s too soon death due to addiction.

I couldn’t, can’t stop thinking of how haphazard life can be, how some of us get tripped up and fall and get back up and safely carry on.

Sadly, not all.

Some make it, find the resolve to continue, and the continuation of that resolve, in increments assures no more falls.

It’s a precarious world we’re slap dab in the middle of. My friend and I talked, yesterday because we’re aware, we’re not able to avoid or willing to turn blind eyes.

We’ve had people in our midst, their struggles are more than just speculation or someone else’s issue. We are with others and we have seen evidence.

Evidence of hopelessness. Evidence of fear. Evidence of doubt and evidence of destruction slowly through either addictive indulgence or addictive control or addictive forlorn failing feelings.

Either way, it seems hope is in high demand, kindness, persistence, refusal to avoid and if you can, when you can just demonstrate deliberately that you care.

Sometimes, though it’s not that simple. Your kindness is less than a drop in a deep ancient well.

You do what you can, keep dropping your love there.

I’m still happy it’s November despite learning of new deaths.

I’m still happy for November and Saturday and the way the cold caused my toes to curl when I let the dog out.

Happy that I spent time reading my Bible, not scanning, delving deeply in to what Paul told Timothy and what God told him to tell me.

And you.

Today.

We still have this hope. That Christ died for us so that we could live, not so that we could be perfect or withstand all our falls from grace and flat on our faces falls; but, so that we would see His face when we pick ourselves up to rise.

That we’d continue to do our best.

That we come closer to an understanding of our lives here, our lives are meant to be His, to be lived out based on our rescued from the fall, faith.

Maybe through us, others will see grace.

Maybe through others we see it too.

“I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

I do not nullify the grace of God, for if righteousness were through the law, then Christ died for no purpose.”

‭‭Galatians‬ ‭2:20-21‬ ‭ESV‬‬

There’s an old hymn we used to sing called “People Need the Lord”. When I was a member of the choir, I’d suggest we sing it more. There didn’t seem to be a Sunday someone might need to know and believe that in these days, we need the Lord.

We’re not able on our own.

We live in a world of simply not knowing what may come, whether someone we love might fall.

Remembering now the sister’s heartbreak over her brother and another’s trauma that has her trapped in a deadly self harm cycle, I wonder if my words are unwelcome, if my hope will be a hindrance, hokey.

I understand. Grief is not a quick thing, hope is not on grief’s horizon. If it’s anywhere it’s around the bend of some crazy and unthinkable scary roads.

Hope is rarely on the mind of grief. I imagine hope as a sweet child with little words, only telling grief, I’ll come out Sir or Ma’am, when it’s my turn to join the grown up table.

And then it sits down together with grief and it sweetly adds its beauty and peace to those dining habitually over their mundane plates, changing slowly the place, the setting.

Like a hopeful child it may not be my place to add comment or conclusion at times.

Last week, I realized clearly that my insights, my intelligence and my speaking incessantly about how much I care about heartbreak and tragedy are insignificant to the person in their grief, their trauma, their fear.

I sat with the truth of that for a long time. Depleted from the knowledge of nothing I can do and the acceptance of it, I courted thoughts of giving up, of being a more silent spokesperson, of staying in the background, kind of keeping to myself what help I may know.

There’s value in that, giving what you can when you run across a need, otherwise just waiting and knowing people know you’re there.

November, it’s only day 3 and you’re really schooling me!

You’re refining my understanding of brokenness and you’ve got a steady eye on the fire that’s creating me as valuable, a vessel for pouring out my knowledge my and hope.

You through me.

Made to know you, to worship you.

To reveal my hope.

Hope that is needed.

Hope incomprehensible, hope that others need.

Farther along, we’ll understand vividly, so clearly, the why of everything.

I love so very much, this folksy rendition, this truth and song.

Farther Along

November, I see your reason, my naming you my turning of season.

Grace, November, you are feeling like grace. I’m grateful you found me again

For catching my almost fall back in to what looks like sadness that is actually fear.

31 Days, Freely -Share

Abuse Survivor, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, freedom, grace, kindness, memoir, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Trust, Uncategorized, Unity, Vulnerability, writing

This morning I’ll make a little video, less than a minute or so of Michelle sharing the story of our shelter, Nurture Home.

She smiled when I described the time she’d done this before, the way she spoke so smoothly like honey and her pauses and the slight tilt as she spoke in a way sharing like a sweet, sweet song.

I love the storytelling part of my work, hands down my favorite part, I abhor the budget, can’t stand the asking for money.

The asking, the putting oneself out there always comes with the risk of rejection.

Last night, I ran risky past sundown because I left the gym without ever going in. Checking email, there it was, another no, another rejection in a string of three.

I cranked my car, turned down the radio and said ok, ok, adjust your sails, you’re not out here in this big sea all alone.

I drove back home and planted pansies for my grandma then ran real hard with good solid songs in my ear.

Running from the dark, I decided and posted on Instagram. A friend commented and I shared what was causing my darkness. Her reply was so sublime!

“Yet it was kind of you to share my trouble.”

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:14‬ ‭ESV‬‬

She understood, she was so very kind.

In this great big world, we all have a story and a story to tell. Today, it’s a work story I’ll tell; but, it’s my life story too.

God placed me in this position for a purpose.

I’m so glad he lets me help to change some stories and then to tell them, hear them, celebrate them too!

And later, I’ll let go of my ideas and ideals for my writing. I could stop altogether or I could continue more surrendered and less striving.

I could remember, let go and let God and like my mama said, be the passenger, let God drive the train.

Telling my story, His way, His time and place.

To God be the glory.

Happy Way of Life #17

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, courage, Faith, fear, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, happy, kindness, memoir, Redemption, rest, Stillness, Teaching, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, writing

I made it to the top of the hill and the rain showered my cheeks in a whipping wash.

The storm brought rain mostly and a time to wait, and trust, and to stop depending on the weather or the man to begin, or to stay, to go.

Go, go with the flow. Go slow if you struggle, still go.

So, today the wind said no use for that hat and I set out to walk, to run into the wind with Alison Krauss singing of maybe one day maybe and a simple love like that and please read the letter that I wrote.

Tiny leaves all around, torn from the trees still green and one large maple between two pines is sparsely scattered with yellow now amongst the still lively greens.

Saying time is changing, you are changing. It is time.

So, I passed a couple walking separate but together, moved uphill running to the opposite and not even a nod did I offer.

For I was moving steady and thinking now about the times against the wind and how that song used to slow me but, now feels quite fine.

Like a letter you write that needs new correspondence because this is now and that was then. You open the mail to find an invitation to enter a literary competition, to submit again like last year before and you tuck it away knowing already the story, the one about changing names.

Lament No More

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, grace, happy, kindness, memoir, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting

Yesterday I told a writer, a published author who is good, funny and honest, the thing I’d been thinking all week.

Andra Watkins is strong and unafraid and kind and I can’t wait to read her new book!

Andra Watkins

I’ve met her and read two of her books already. This one is a little different and she wrote that it had been an idea long ago, finally coming to fruition despite serious medical interruptions and detours.

I finally commented on her FB page.

I told her how seeing her accomplishment made me feel. Told her I was jealous. I told her I was happy for her. I told her I came up with a new word about my feelings. I had decided I was “jAPPY”.

She replied that she knew I would, that I would one day write a book.

I smiled.

Running last night, yes, me running, I decided to remember that I will only not write if it is not for me from God to write.

In that case, it will be okay.

I have written a whole lot already.

Yes.

I have a crazy real fear that my time will run out. Partly due to the lack of time because of my career and the mental exhaustion it causes, I have only tiny chunks to devote to writing. (This is my reality. This is not whining and not in need of encouraging or worthy comments along the lines of…if it mattered you’d make time.)

This is accepting that space and time will clear in time and if not, well, that change is no longer completely up to me.

The happening or not, I am a smaller part than I wanted to be.

Running towards something, pressing a little farther each time and committing to knowing this is my part, my new dedication, just keeping going.

I begin my day every day with the Jabez prayer. The one that is an imploring of God to make good things happen and to keep them coming, please.

Everyday, I realized today, I am praying for more when I already have so much, God has granted a multitude of what I have asked.

…and that your hand might be with me, and that you would keep me from harm so that it might not bring me pain!” And God granted what he asked. – 1 Chronicles 4:10

I’m a woman raised with very little and along the way I have been given so much, had opportunity to give from all I’ve been given.

The book I thought I might write no longer is the book I believe may come.

The prior was a lament, the future will perhaps only recall the past from which I’ve come; but, will be so much more heavy on hope.

God is moving me from all the past.

God is keeping me from my pain.

It is a necessary blessing.

My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me.

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end;

they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. – Lamentations 3:20-23

The song in my ears while running reminding me that His mercy will not end.

I tapped replay.

His mercy never ends. His plan for me will not be thwarted even if I stumble and get bummed out by my past so hard to forget or agonizing my far away and unattainable to me future.

A mercy song:

As Sure As the Sun will rise and chase away the night, His mercy will not end. Ellie Holcomb

His mercy will not end.

His love for me will not be removed.

I will continue in rhythm with His timing, His mercy,

His idea for my book.

Learned Yesterday

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, grace, kindness, memoir, mercy, Peace, praise, Redemption, rest, Serving, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Unity, Vulnerability, waiting

Before I forget, I must make a list of yesterday’s people.

A Board President gave the blessing before the meal at a gathering of grantees. He prayed for us, our work of love and for those who had yet to pass through our doors.

Before his “Amen” he paused as if the Spirit lingered long with Him and he longed to stay in that moment. Just as after his “Amen” his sense of God was so real he audibly acknowledged it, he kind of shook from the presence with an “Oh”.

Laughter with my friend/employee/spiritually wise one all the way to and from the gathering on the crazy construction mess of interstate.

We were safe.

A fellow grantee, selected as the spokesperson for her table and her response to the chosen question over our biggest obstacles in providing help to others. She, one by one listed needs that had been met for her Free Clinic simply by asking straight out and three times maybe four in beautiful oration, she paused and added:

Ask, that your joy may be complete!

Five women, separately but simultaneously because of the day, encouraged my writing after reading “Black Crow Mercies”.

One took the time to send an email, I only skimmed at first and read again before bed seeing the gift more clearly from God for me.

Thank you for who you are. This is not the first time God has used you to soften my heart. I am praying for your book. Just know it will bless.

Love from the camping ground,

Anna

She has spoken hope for me, and dare I say, made reality, my writing of a book.

Later, two women I have written guest posts for sent me sweet words, one sharing my words, the other sharing my hopes and her hopes with me. She shared them in a podcast I’d never bothered to listen to.

I messaged her and wrote how her voice calmed me as she talked about peace, how happy I was to finally listen, to hear her sweet tone.

Even later, I went for a run and was exhilarated over how much this challenge of going a little farther has gotten hold of my heart.

Music in my ears, impressing me to continue.

Farther, farther along…

Farther Along

Running from the devil of depression, I allowed my acceptance of my truth.

I ran with new vigorous confidence and commitment towards my growing stronger, towards understanding.

Home, I announce to my son that I went farther. I ran farther this time. I head to the kitchen to finish dinner and it’s healthy, I’m healthy.

I think of a writer named Lisa, remembering I told her I’d guest post again and letting the ball drop on my end.

Then I see her comment from 12 hours before and my name in her post, my words, “Black Crow Mercies” shared for her friends.

I commented how unbelievably timely her sharing, for I felt she’d long forgotten me because of my forgetting her.

Two writers, males, commented as well. One in agreement with my realizations on being different, one affirming I’m “good, okay, different”.

People on my path.

Lord, you never delay too long. Thank you for showing that what I decided to believe once again will in fact be true.

In a little while, I knew I would see.

In a little while, I knew I’d again believe.

Because of mercy, Amen.

linking this post up with others at Tell His Story hosted by Mary Geisen.

http://marygeisen.com/foreigner-in-a-foreign-land/

Happy Way of Life – #13

contentment, courage, Faith, grace, happy, kindness, love, mercy, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Humbled, but unashamed.

What is wonderful

Priceless

Invaluable in this life I live

Boundaried and buffeted by grace

Is that correction, His is gentle.

Spiritual redirection that’s simply an invitation and recognition of harsh thinking or word,

It is gradual and a gift without expectation of my equal exchange.

A gift not wrapped in bright red paper colored shame.

I heard once, the only verses or sermon we might need to perhaps live with one another in the whole world in His hands more mercifully would be these:

the Beautitudes

2 And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying:

3 “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

4 “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

5 “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

6 “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

7 “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.

8 “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

9 “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.

10 “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

11 “Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.

12 Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you. – Matthew 5:2-12

Humbled, gently stirred towards correction but, unashamed.

My happy way of life.

Noticing the stirring in my soul, preparing my new season

gradually

gracefully.

Happy Way of Life

birds, contentment, grace, happy, kindness, Peace, rest, Stillness, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

#…Oh, I’ve lost count.

I’m sittin’ on the shaded end of the pool and content with not a hint of celebration of the independence kind going on.

Me, poolside.

The bass from the neighbor’s get together serenade is thumpin’ sorta subtle, Rolling Stones “No Satisfaction”.

Stevie Nicks and before that a little Steve Miller followed by the long longing “Faithfully” of Journey.

Distant sounds of dove coos with intermittent breeze causing my inhale and I’ve changed from jeans to stretchy gym stuff.

Because, I worked a little while.

At our shelter.

Now, I’m home.

I pull my legs up, settle in for a bit and swing ’em over the chair and decide I’m good here…

Yeah, the music continues beyond the fences…”Here Comes my Girl…”

Reminiscent, Bittersweet, like before but better.

Yes, “Turn the Page”.

All Sinking

confidence, contentment, Faith, grace, kindness, love, mercy, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

“Write prompted by the word, ocean” the Thursday tweet announced and I thought, well, that’s different, broad and seems neither inspirational or instructional in a faith kind of way.

I gave my own interpretation of something yesterday on “selfie day” being celebrated and too late, I realize now it may have been a tad bit haughty, self-righteous,

My parading my words via the social sites on how God wants our focus on Him and not our own ways and wills, our “selves”.

I mentioned how Peter stepped over the ledge of the storm shaken boat and seeing Jesus in the distance began to walk that way, forgetting his humanity and his own feet incapable of standing on the surface of the ocean, much less walking.

He remembered though and he found himself human, he realized he was just a man and he began to tremble, his legs close to folding and sinking.

Jesus helped him up, said come on…let me lead you the rest of the way.

Lord, thank you for helping me walk your way, for rescuing me from the places I’m particularly close to falling back into.

Me

My sister posted a picture yesterday of my nephew strategically getting a good swift start and diving from a cliff into some beautiful ocean somewhere I’ve never seen.

I “loved” it; but, I was jealous. I’ve seen oceans only a half a day by car and less than two States away.

Another person posted a photo of their husband, his arms wide open and she doesn’t say it; but, because the sea is a sea near the places Jesus lived, walked and prayed,

I pondered the beauty of this woman’s husband in that place.

I imagined him praying, quietly, privately praising

The ocean wide and vast and immeasurable.

My afflictions, self-pity and the like…thank God…they’re eclipsed by His glory!

How He Loves

If His grace is an ocean

We’re all sinking.

Crowder

Someone else posted a need for prayer, and I momentarily questioned it, their need or their “neediness”.

Today, I’m close again to quietly breaking up with Facebook because of all the negativity and all the unnecessary.

All of the fodder for hopelessness and questionable happiness, I’m toying with the idea of stepping away.

Social media, the place where comparison lives, tells me either my life sucks or someone else’s does and at least I’m not that crazy or that less than enough.

A seesaw of needing more and being depressed over our lack or celebrating decidedly haughtily at least I’m not as needy for notice as they are!

We judge others, we judge ourselves using glimpses, only teeny tiny glimpses of lives on screens.

In today’s, devotional from Oswald Chambers I read a stern message.

I read that Jesus tells us not to judge others, not because it’s wrong or because it doesn’t fulfill the one thing He said, we must do;

But, because we need to know this:

Our conclusions drawn of others and our methods that measure them are precisely the measures that will be used on us.

The greatest characteristic of a saint is humility, as evidenced by being able to say honestly and humbly,

“Yes, all those, as well as other evils, would have been exhibited in me if it were not for the grace of God. Therefore, I have no right to judge.

Oswald Chambers

I suppose like most things, we don’t truly get it until “it’s about us”.

Someone suggested, several times a day, we say it.

It’s not about me. It’s not about me.

Those of us who prefer the written expression over the verbal, we open our Bibles and think “Oh, this is significant, I’m enlightened now! I must say a few words and thereby possibly enlighten another.”

More careful, considerate and even calculated maybe I should be, less me.

Not condescending,

Late last night, I scrolled through the sweetest selfies on my Instagram, bubbly faces with friends and single souls smiling widely!

I regretted my judgement of the day being unnecessary.

Who am I to say?

I’m glad there’s more than an ocean full, grace.

Enough to just rightly so, fear my sinking, only to look up, look inward and recalibrate my wondering thoughts, to focus on truths of Him.