On Grace

Abuse Survivor, Art, bravery, confidence, courage, doubt, Faith, grace, memoir, patience, pride, Redemption, Vulnerability, writing
“Of Lasting Value” (final edit)

Grace is a small, even fragile word.

So delicate I forget the unseen power in its protection and provision.

Offered up to and by those we love.

Given by those who don’t know just how badly we need it nor do we until we’re surprised by the extension of it.

Small places on our paths are seen before we trip into “Oh, no”.

Players in the drama of our lives are setting the stage of our next act, quietly and unknowingly directed by our God who protects us from mess ups.

Here’s a little evidence, a hint of the kindness of grace.

I wrote a story about a painting. I thought to add it to my talk for women, mostly to lengthen my presentation.

But, I folded it, decided this is not for sharing even though I treasure the words.

Days later, a publication I thought had either lost or tossed it reached out.

An unexpected email, the same essay is read by an editor and they love it, but suggest a different tone.

The editor tells me which part she loves and which are wrong.

Ouch, a tiny sigh. I let the critique sink in and see it (eventually) as unexpected grace.

Less about Lisa, more about others.

(A familiar refrain, I’m afraid)😊

Now, I’m sort of iffy about it altogether.

I fear I’ve forgotten how to write as often as I fear I suddenly don’t remember how to paint.

But, grace says the road is wide for your walking, your words and your colors, whatever the thing that is for you to do.

And grace is right beside you as you go.

Come on.

Let’s go.

Start walking.

“and I shall walk in a wide place, for I have sought your precepts.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭119‬:‭45‬ ‭ESV‬‬

You don’t have to go perfectly or suddenly.

There’s grace for circling back, rerouting, resting and letting “it” rest to come back to what has been patiently waiting.

Waiting for you.

Because it’s only grace, the grace of God that knows the true you.

Truly.

And that’s really cool.

I’ll sit and consider the edits to my essay. I’ll be grateful for the grace of course correction, for the opportunity to keep telling the story of “Blue Ribbon Girl”.

His grace will lead you in small things as well as great.” Jean Nicolas Grou

Continue and believe.

You be you, grace will lead.

It’s grace that’ll remind you, you’re not perfect; but, you’re getting closer.

Closer to the Father and His idea of you.

Enough

Art, contentment, courage, curiousity, Faith, family, hope, mercy, patience, Peace, Redemption, wonder

A noticer of people, on Monday I watched from my car in the Hobby Lobby parking lot. I noticed the clothing of others; vibrant yellow, a too long skirt on a woman, a man who walked beside his wife dressed as if accompanying her to the craft store was a hot date,

A young girl with black boots, arms covered in ink and every accessory a display of matching energy as she danced by, like a little bird on a mission.


A woman dressed completely in drab black, long skirt, shirt and too big cardigan, I watched her shuffling in orthopedic/athletic shoes that were so big I could’ve put my fist in the spot for her heels.

For a minute, I was sad, felt it was my place to fix her.

Should I offer to give her my shoes or give her money for a pair that fit? Thinking, here I sit, about to go and buy more paint as I enjoy my Chick-Fil-A and she needs shoes.

Or does she?

Who am I to know what defines “abundance” for her?

I thought about her all day. My thoughts went from sympathy to more of “I think she’s okay”.

And today, I wake to Job’s words again coupled with Ann Voskamp’s email, reminding me that I’m not the maker or measuring tool for abundance, only called to do what God created me for and to notice in places less obvious.

To see it in me, the abundant life through Christ, to quietly consider every moment just how abundance looks, feels, is expressed through me.

To see my little deposit of abundance in the faces of others.

God understands the way to it and he alone knows where it dwells, for he views the ends of the earth and sees everything under the heavens.”
‭‭Job‬ ‭28:23-24‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Creator knows us, us as artists, executives, teachers or skilled fixers of things…as creatives, makers of families, lovers of the beautifully crafted earth around us.

Notice today.

He knows the way.

Abundance is in and around you.

Don’t miss it, don’t miss a thing.

Notice God today.

Say a little secret prayer,

“Abundance, God…show me the way to it.”

You are loved.

My Artist Story

Art, artist calendar, bravery, confidence, courage, curiousity, Faith, family, memoir, painting, patience, Redemption, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder

I was given an opportunity by Hayley Price, owner of The Scouted Studio and The Art Coaching Club of which I’m a member, to share my thoughts on being an artist and why I continue this intentional journey.

In progress

A journey in progress.

You can listen here:

Art Coaching Club podcast

It’s a wonderful podcast for artists. You should subscribe for both technical advice and encouragement from other artists.

September Hope

confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, hope, patience, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Trust, waiting, wonder
Hold On

Mid-September mornings are striated light on the thick green floor. The mysterious vine spills over, bent branches scattered with once purple blooms now fading to lavender.

The season is changing, the blooms done with their blooming and I’m torn between acceptance and longing for longer.

Does hope have a season? Will we need to wait for it to make sense again? Will I embrace the soul of hope and not pack it away like a summer dress, move it to the back of the closet, knowing it’s there and yet wondering if it makes sense?

I greeted someone this morning to ask a favor and I began with, “Good morning.” Ready to send the message, I paused and rewrote it

Adding, “I hope you’re feeling hopeful this morning.”

Hope is important to my friend and I.

Weeks ago, I typed a message more like an essay telling someone jolted by bad news that we don’t stop hoping, we don’t give up on hope.

We don’t “put off our hope”, don’t defer it like asking for more time to make good on a debt or commitment.

We don’t procrastinate hoping, I told her because that makes our hearts even more broken.

Instead, we keep hoping and we see the beautiful bloom, the tree of life.

Fulfillment.

“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.”
‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭13:12‬ ‭NIV‬‬

I hope you’re feeling hopeful this morning.

“But may all who search for you be filled with joy and gladness in you. May those who love your salvation repeatedly shout, “God is great!”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭70:4‬ ‭NLT‬‬

I hope you remember all the times you’ve seen hoping bring fulfillment and I hope you will believe, believe again or simply start hoping it may just be true.

Jesus loves you.

You can hope.

Continue and believe.

Just My Thoughts

curiousity, Faith, hope, patience, Peace, Redemption, Trust, Vulnerability

But I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail.
Luke 22:32

Walking last week without music or advice in my ear, I thought about Peter and I thought about how years ago I could never imagine I’d think of such things, be moved to contemplation from a passage in a Bible.

In the margin, there’s a woman and the words Jesus said to Peter, “I have prayed for you.”

Jesus knew Peter would tell people “I don’t know him, that’s not me.” and so what was the reason he assured Peter of his prayers?

I began to think of a couple of possibilities, just my thoughts.

Maybe Jesus was praying, you’re going to live with the memory of telling the others seated around the fire that you weren’t associated with me and that memory can do one of two things…spiral you into shame and self-hatred or remind you that you’re human and yet, grace covered everything.

He also told Peter that he prayed he’d be stronger for his brothers when he came back to believing.

There’s a message here for us who are imperfect, whose lives were once “deniers of the love of Jesus”. We can use our stories of being found wrongfully acting and thinking to make our light even brighter and our belief in Jesus undeniably strong.

There’s such hope in the words Jesus said to Peter…”I have prayed for you.” Hope and assurance, He knows and yet loves us so.

Just my thoughts.

Powerful Things

Abuse Survivor, Angels, Art, birds, contentment, courage, Faith, family, grandchildren, hope, memoir, mixed media painting, obedience, painting, patience, Peace, Redemption, rest, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder

I did the most silly, most powerful thing the other day. I changed the description in my Pinterest profile back to what it was originally.

Powerful? Silly? Yes, both. I edited the words characterizing me as an author and artist and I went back to the grander aspiration.

Hope.

Works on Paper

Lisa Anne Tindal, artist returned to “Artist and writer longing for a little white house near the ocean.”

Longings leading my heart back to me.

“You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭16:11‬ ‭ESV‬‬

“Come back, daughter.” my Heavenly Father keeps saying to me.

My Notes app became my diary at the beach, a call to smaller, more lasting things.

Nothing aspirational only thoughts of those around me, my line of thinking, line of prayer meandered from galleries, Italian art tours, and pricing my art in a way that measures its worth not just a sale.

We walked down the quiet street and discovered a white heron, gracious in its stance. The creek was quiet, the bird shaded and shielded by old overgrown cedar limbs as I knelt with a three year old resting against my chest.

I told her I was so happy for this gift, this peace today in a white elegant bird.

So, my prayer because God hears them. If possible and good for us, I’d love to have a seaside house for those I love to gather.

To gather again.

To search for the white bird daily.

White Bird

To paint on paper bags, be surprised by God again, to be visited by birds and song.

Aspirations so small and mighty.

So settled, not seeking.

So confident of my heart’s desires being known by my very kind Father.

Last weekend, I responded to the question of when I became an artist with the truth of flunking out of college, losing my art scholarship because of hard things and harm and then working hard as a helper of families before, in my 50’s, coming back to art.

There’s truth there, but even more in the realization,

I’ve always been an artist in the very same way I was told “You’ve always been brave.”

Paper Bag Works

I did a powerful silly thing. I changed my Pinterest bio back to the true, although dreamy thing.

To be an artist with a little white house near the ocean.

To gather. To paint.

To search for the white bird with my family.

“In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30:15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Alone With My Faith

Abuse Survivor, beach, confidence, contentment, Faith, grace, hope, memoir, patience, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Stillness, testimony, traumatriggers, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder
Edisto Beach Shells

I woke without alarm and quietly found my clothes. Carefully, I remembered the sandals were on top. The contacts were turned right side up and the bathroom window gave enough light for a splash of cold water on my cheeks.

The old door creaked as I closed it. Bare feet on the steps, I saw the pink behind me as I thought nothing of walking alone on our last vacation morning.

The promise of grandeur was kept. I thought if I could touch the far away sun, I’d never let go.

Edisto Beach

Decided that’s why we’re not made to hold such things, we’d cling so fiercely we might never see from a distant perspective.

How deep is your faith?”

I asked myself this morning, the question in the tune of the Bee Gee’s song.

Edisto Beach

Riding home from a week away, I enjoyed what my husband calls a “conversation hiatus”, a thing he will never fully understand. I’m just glad he allows it. I thrive on quiet. I require a flushing of the mental overload, a reset of sorts, a not always pleasant assessment of events, conversations, interactions and pushed to the side for later thoughts.

Processing, becoming prayers. Seeing from a distance, not holding tight or looking too close.

Heal what is hurting. Mend what is broken. Speak what needs to be heard. Continue with me, Lord, these lessons I might begin to live, to teach.

Edisto Beach

Find me, Lord, where I left you.

Keep changing my perspective, Father. Keep redeeming what is not mine to remake.

Psalm 23 became a plea in a hospital bed for me back in 2019. Maybe I made it more than it was, the scary episode of vertigo that refused to quit. Likely, I did make it bigger than it was.

Because it wasn’t the episode, it was the fear. It was the trigger of being forced to quit or being grabbed and shaken, being unable to escape a violent grip.

Over and over for months, I said to myself.

“The Lord is my shepherd. I have everything I need.”, taking the opening line of a well known Psalm and making it mine.

Now, I prefer a different translation.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭23:1‬ ‭ESV‬‬

One that reminds me no matter what, how, or when…I shall not be in want.

My faith will and has sustained me.

In the morning when I rise, I’ll keep considering my perspective. In all that affects me, I will pause and examine the ways I have changed.

I’ll give myself a minute and I’ll ask, “How deep is your faith.”

Knowing that’s all that matters and knowing that’s all and only what makes me, me.

And I shall not want.

“…that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭2:3‬ ‭ESV

Edisto Birds

I shall continue.

Continue and believe.

Hope you do too.

Child In You

confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, patience, Peace, Redemption, Trust, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder

Speak softly to yourself,
“I am a child of God. I am loved and learning.”

Repeat as needed.

Your life is a chorus, a lullaby, a silly dance, a canvas for God’s crayon.

Tell yourself, I am God’s and
He is mine.

There’s a child in you, impossible to be stolen away by any little thing.

Small and tender, bold and brave, wondering and wandering.

Child in you that stays.

Close your eyes.

Sigh. Take a breath. Listen.

Remember a secret sweetest day.

Cherished, you are.

Then and today.

Loved and learning.

“And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.”
‭‭Philippians‬ ‭1:6‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Noticed on Tuesday

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, happy, hope, memoir, painting, patience, Peace, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder, writing

Isn’t it predictable that I’d love the phrase “noticing God”, incorporate it into bios and hashtags and yet, catch myself off guard when a phrase of truth and clarity comes

And I decide to hold on to it?

“God is always paying attention (to me).”

Followers and collectors, listeners, potential buyers of my art and my words

Caused me to be weary over compiling them, the not yet thousands enough.

So, I left that little compilation of numbers alone

And continued to go on

On my own.

Noticing highlighter colored rye fields and yellow flowers becoming fluffy dandelions.

I noticed and celebrated the simplicity of a simple notice.

“Thank you, Lisa Anne Tindal!

I appreciate all your inspiration and insight!” M.H. (a brilliant author)

A gift given to me on her birthday.

“Isn’t it ironic?” A.M.

Or maybe not.

Maybe it’s God.

The same God who provided water to a slave girl trying to escape and a woman enslaved by her patterns with men.

Same God who notices my need to be noticed and says “I see, see with me.”

“Then God opened Hagar’s eyes, and she saw a well full of water. She quickly filled her water container and gave the boy a drink.”
‭‭Genesis‬ ‭21:19‬ ‭NLT‬

“But sir, you don’t have a rope or a bucket,” she said, “and this well is very deep. Where would you get this living water?”
‭‭John‬ ‭4:11‬ ‭NLT‬‬

It’s not popular to be weary over popularity.

I wonder who else feels the exhaustion of self-promotion and longs to simply keep finding, sharing and creating…

To be thirsty not for notice.

Being light.

Because

God is paying attention to you.

In the sweet spot of knowing you’re noticed so that you’re not thirsting for notice of others and more often than before not as thirsty.

Fill my cup, Lord.

I lift it up to your pink sky Tuesday morning telling me I’m seen loved and known.

Noticed on Tuesday morning,

The Calming

anxiety, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, love, memoir, patience, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

The morning fooled me with its horizon.

Thick clouds bordered the pine tops like hills, like in the mountains.

Crescent moon to my left.

I remembered smiling, remembered the now distant idea, “Look at the moon, precious child. It’s called a crescent. It reminds me of your smile.”

The idea still near, I drive into Monday.

Radio boring, and podcast unnerving because of the cadence and tone in the guest’s voice.

Found a second episode and found the same. A conversation on attention and I couldn’t focus because of the speed of the exchange, the “chirpiness” in the voices.

Was the listening speed wrong in my app?

No, it’s me. I’m afraid I’m a bit particular about voices, quick to silence those that are pushy, perky or peppy.

Maybe it’s a southern thing.

Maybe simply timing.

“And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?”
‭‭Esther‬ ‭4:14‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Last week in the same number of days, I was told three times by a trio of different people, one a total stranger.

“You are calming.”

“Have you been on the radio? Your voice is so calming” and “Talking to you calms me.”

A friend, a former colleague who’s an executive and a young stranger.

This morning I noticed the coming day coming slowly as if the earth had decided to stay under the soft covers.

No sound now, music or podcast wisdom.

I enter Monday with full attention as I pause for the passing family of careful deer.

I feel the weight shifting as I turn, the road narrow with a picture perfect view.

I am quiet, quiet as Monday morning mostly sleeping.

I’m calm. I’m easy.

I’m hearing my voice again, patiently waiting my turn to use it.

“Prayer and patience…prayer and patience.” Aunt Boo