love

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.

Coffee and Morning

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, family, love, memoir, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Stillness, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

On our final beach day, I wake to the sound of lawnmower instead of sweet birds, the closest to sleeping in all vacation and the landscapers are I guess, trying to beat the heat.

Timely, typical.

I groan.

A dog, I decide small, someplace chimes in and it’s crazy because both our dogs left early, yesterday with the children.

Isn’t it ironic? …it figures.

Alanis Morissette

Redirecting the day, I start the coffee and go for the pretty cup, not a morning I’ve had quiet.

Today, I return to bed and inventory my prayer list.

Haphazard or just right I had wondered when I couldn’t squeeze it in, my typical time alone.

So, one word was all. “Insight” was my petition.

I’m looking over my list now and what I just experienced, thinking about what felt like literal stirring in my soul, an uncomfortable unrest.

We watched the waves last night under the crescent moon.

High over the ocean from the pier, the sound of the churning up from underneath, the bringing in of new and the taking out of old, the tide a gentle yet powerful change.

My word, again.

Insight.

Hoping for change; but, maybe scared that quite very possibly it is possible.

Scary, the reality that God is readying me for something different and I know it.

Say to wisdom, “You are my sister,” and call insight your intimate friend, – Proverbs 7:4

I know it because my chest is filled with stirring over the potential and it makes me just a little bit afraid.

Returning to my words and His word, I read about the way He carries me, helps me carry my load and I’m remembering His eye on the sparrow and I’m remembering He is the potter, I’m just clay.

And I’m glad for the storing up of these promises because I’m believing based on this stirring that He is preparing me and He is preparing new and new ways.

I’ll be strong, stronger with Him helping to carry me and my load.

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.

Drawn to redemption, welcomed actually.

“Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you.”

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭7:1-2‬ ‭ESV‬‬

The Same Still

Children, courage, daughters, Faith, family, kindness, love, memoir, Motherhood, Trust, Uncategorized, Unity, Vulnerability, wonder

All the pretty pots sat near the sill.

Tender colors and smooth shapes. My niece has become a potter and all of her pieces, she’d brought home.

My weekend, I’ve named the weekend of nieces and it was a whirlwind, my daughter and I began at 5:20 in the morning on a Thursday and keep goin’ til late night on a Sunday.

I kept thinking, calling it, our trip on the “crazy train”.

Takeaways once we made it home through uncertain outcomes, a baby girl, perfection…a moonlit boat ride, a tropical storm, a downpour on a skinny back road and a time for bed ice cold beer with my uncle, excited over us joining him in the indulgence and laughter ’cause I decided not to be stubborn, to not keep driving on.

So we stayed the night with Aunt Boo because the rain had set in, the radar made my daughter a little scared.

Oh, the takeaway, yes, back to what I realized while walking, finally back home.

My family is diverse.

God has flung us one way and another and all within a three hour or so perimeter. Vastly different now, I kept thinking we are.

But, oh in many ways the same, just reshaped, reworked, fashioned as God would have us be, has had us become.

“But now, O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭64:8‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Each of us, reflecting the other, changed only slightly by life’s ripples and waves.

My brother in law noticed me in my sister. I noticed my daughter in my niece. My daughter noticed my son in my brother in law and I noticed my mama and my daddy in the newborn great niece.

I noticed my daughter in me, oh, that’s a given.

In my brothers, I saw myself and in my nephew, I saw his daddy. In my niece, I saw me.

In my sister, well,

I saw my baby sister.

Time changes many things, grows us, moves us, melds us and muddles and befuddles us.

But, change us deep down?

Maybe not so much at all, just all worked a little differently, made to work a little differently.

Not meant for sameness, only similarity.

We, the work of His hands.

Reflections of those gone before us and looking over us, of one another and of God.

All things work for good, we all the work of His hands, vastly different, still the same.

Still, the same.

The same, still.

Hold Fast to Good

bravery, Children, courage, grief, love, Peace, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Mostly people are talking today about the wedding, the biracial American actress not walked down the aisle by her father.

The Bishop who shouted out imagine love changing our world and the bride’s mother sitting alone amongst the spectacle and the spectacular.

Oh, I love a wedding! Gonna miss a bridal tea tomorrow but hope we get an invite to the wedding.

I’m trying to catch up now. I didn’t set my alarm and wake up in the dark for the nuptials. I’m catching up and I’m so sorry, but it only took a minute or two.

So, I scroll and I’m reminded of the ten students. Oddly, I thought how difficult it is to fathom, how impossible to relate.

The front page of our small town paper’s headline said, “Its real!” referencing the shouts of a teacher towards children, not a false alarm, a prank or a threat.

It’s real.

I had the strangest revelation today. Facebook has become the instigator, the shallow sharer, the ” Enquirer”.

Satisfied and informed over the Bishop’s exhortation, I turn away, searching for writing instruction and example.

I scroll Twitter and retweet, finally feeling to some extent how they must be feeling, parents

teachers

friends, grandmas, grandpas, custodians, coaches

boyfriends and girlfriends.

A student comes to America, to Texas from Pakistan and she’s soon to return home.

But, she’s been shot. Her life is over, I stared at the picture, a beautiful girl and I felt closer to feeling the thing that makes no sense.

Because the 17 year old with the hair in his eyes made me sad, made me wonder, made me unable to believe.

He could be a killer and how no one had noticed.

But I believe and I grieve only a hint of what they are grieving.

I see the face of a child thinking life was only beginning and yet it has ended.

Everybody woke to watch the royals and it had been less than a day passing when 10 people were shot to death by a boy who himself wanted to die.

And I, not normally political was changed and I’m grateful for it finally, by the face of a pretty girl in a country foreign to her.

Quite possibly believed to be safe, secure, American-ish home.

While everyone was watching a wedding, families in Texas were just trying to breathe.

And some were numb and ceremonially engaged in the plans to bury their babies, their daughters, sons, wives.

I cannot even.

I don’t know the answer; but, it may in fact start with love. May start with intentional notice and knowing.

Everyone is taking about the dress and the choir.

The outspoken spoken word, the lyric, the call to love.

If you don’t believe me, just stop and think and imagine, think and imagine, well, think and imagine a world where love is the way.

Bishop Michael Curry

What an odd contrast, a high school massacre and a royal wedding.

I’d be naive to believe it.

But, believe it still.

Jesus

and love,

the answers.

Hold fast. Love is still at least a part of the answer.