praise

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.

Jesus Made 13

bravery, confidence, courage, doubt, Faith, grace, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Salvation, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I saw the suggested “thinking point”, the prompt and I thought of the chosen twelve along with the one different, Jesus, 13 an odd number, odd man out you might say.

The shaker up of things, the confronter of issues needing confronting, the consistent comforter, healer, setting himself to the side rather than on a mighty place of notice.

12, he chose to be “fishers of men”, observers of sorrow, to travel by foot, by boat, by His side.

Peter, Andrew, Matthew (Levi), John (brother of James) Phillip, Bartholomew, Thomas, Judas, James, Thaddeus, James (the younger), Simon

12 who were the imperfect yet willing.

12 who had no idea what they were in for.

12 who were not untainted by personal flaws and failures.

12 who simply said yes.

12 maybe initially intrigued by the phenomenon of this healer, this man on a mission, this bold and powerful presence.

12 who agreed to follow and followed Him to the cross where everything changed for the 13th.

12 who saw His sacrifice for them, for us and if not changed by being with him before, knew they could surely be changed for good then.

12, occasional misfits, uncertain followers and a doubter along with a dissenter who chose death because of his disbelief.

Like us, like me.

Jesus said, come alongside me.

I will show you what God has planned.

Just follow, keep following me.

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. – John 3:16-17

I’m linking up with others on the prompt of “13” for Five Minute Friday. Better than most times, I wrote freely for about 5 minutes.

http://fiveminutefriday.com/2018/07/26/fmf-link-up-thirteen/

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/

Black Crow Mercies

Art, birds, bravery, contentment, courage, Faith, grace, memoir, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, rest, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting

The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing. – Zephaniah 3:17

I told him, “Our troubles are minuscule” as we rode together bemoaning things that were trivial trials in our life.

We are well. Our children are well. We have what we need.

But last week, a crow flew just in front of my car as I turned in to the lot and as I’m prone to do, I took it to mean dismay.

I was early for work, not my norm.

Timely, I thought, just perfect for this pessimistic air all around me, my living and breathing blah apprehension.

Pity, full.

I open the door to step into the day and they all begin, a few of them now, to make the “caw” call of mockery seeking my notice.

I had a deadline, I resisted the idea, struggled to put together the right “ask” begrudgingly came to work to begin.

A minute into the task, an application for grant funds, I was interrupted and I huffed.

Corrected myself, listened and then explained my deadline.

The one who interrupted my day told me he would pray.

Later, I would be able to share with him the ease of completing the application.

More interruptions, people stopping by to help. I told them I couldn’t talk and they said rather curtly, knowing me…”okay don’t talk”.

Sometimes I’m so “unpeople”.

Left alone with my work, I completed the task, I asked the grantor for what we truly needed rather than something new and contrived, I was honest.

Then, I joined the ones who came to help me with another task they’d volunteered for, my husband, daughter, and grandson, giving up their Thursday to help lighten my load.

I walked in and they were working so very well together, hanging drapes, hanging pictures, it was unnecessary for me to be there.

I quickly chastised my husband as he hung the large painting off kilter. My daughter cut her eyes, cocked her head and said: “Mama, stop barking orders.”

Oh yes, I can be demanding.

I can forget to be grateful. Sitting on the beach, we heard of sudden serious illness and added this father to our dinner blessing.

My husband asked, “Do you think God does things to get our attention? Do you think God wants to humble people through tragic unexpected things?”

Immediately, I replied, “Well, I don’t know how I’ve dodged the bullet then.”

No further discussion.

Almost a week later, a young father has died in an accident and the one on life support has been healed.

Who are we to know? Who are we to comprehend?

God is able. Able to know all.

We are not.

On Saturday, I was grouchy again.

Stubborn and lazy. I was uncertain of putting myself out there again. My art and I would be on display, a new opportunity, a new place to hopefully make a profit. If my aunt and uncle hadn’t traveled two hours for the market, I had decided already to back out.

I sold three paintings, minimal profit.

I answered three people when they asked about Isaiah 30:15 and I told them why this verse is the one I call my life, how I’m better when I’m quietly confident in God.

What I didn’t say was how around 7:00 a.m I had to get myself in check and let my knees find the floor beside my bed to ask God to help me radiate this verse, this “quiet confidence”.

He did.

Conversations about comfort occurred, comparisons of struggles and needs were brought to my attention and I listened, I really listened.

A photographer I admire commissioned a piece and she told me that I should, yes …” You should write the book.”

Kind words were offered about my paintings. I accepted them.

The sweetest thing ever, my aunt, an ever observant one said: “I feel so good about you living here, I see how many people need and care about you..”

I said sincerely, thank you to onlookers without a tone of pity or pleading for purchase.

I asked God for the day I needed and He answered by showing me the beauty of contentment and of His being with me.

Now it’s Monday and the birds have begun to show up slowly after an overnight rain. Gradually, they are moving limb to limb, testing the branches and cavorting about.

My prayers are for the hurting, the very sick, both sickness of the heart and the body. For the hard hardness of unforeseen grief and tragic too early death. For those whose role assigned by You is one of bringing comfort and wisdom to all, I pray you equip and embrace them.

My prayers are of gratitude for what I was taught by God this weekend, what I was taught to recognize, consider and not forget,

Your presence, here.

My “art room” is back in order now, my writing space awaits. I’ll get back to it soon, not be hampered by the pressures of my pride, pitifully pitting me against myself.

Such an exhausting battle, unnecessary.

I will wait and I will ask again, how can I write in a way that is quietly confident, that emanates your grace, your mercy, my faith?

How can I see the birds overhead and remember my worth, not be woeful?

How can I glorify you as I continue in intentional surrender?

I can’t wait to see, to sense and to follow in this way, the way of grace and peace.

Show us your glory.

We know you are able.

Help us to recall our hardship only in terms of remembering your healing.

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

Looking for my red birds and robins today.

I know they are near.

Crows maybe too, the noisy crows sent to remind me of deliverance, of mercy.

God, we know you are with us. We know you are able, we are listening for you.

Comfort us as comforters and ease the hurt of grieving hearts.

Because of mercy,

Amen, me

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.

Not Too Old To Try

Art, confidence, courage, grace, praise, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder

In the beginning I only took off amongst the secluded spaces. The neighbors most likely I decided would raise their eyebrows or gawk at the thickness of my girth.

Now I’m in a rhythm and there’s no need to pause, no concern over possible crossing paths or shimmying thighs.

A year ago I learned what a plank was and I held it a minute and a month ago I decided I could run.

It’s not much at all to do with a number, the scale or the age.

It’s more about time to try because trying is timely.

I happened upon words drawing me in closely via twitter.

Modern publication, online and I imagined modern spaces with wide, high narrowly sleek windows with views.

Maybe teleworkers technically expert and polished

Young men and women committed to this publication and their enthusiasm to enthuse others towards Christianity using brave and open perspective…

I was intrigued.

I dropped down the “Submissions” page and I decided to try.

I introduced the editors to my art and to my words.

There was interest in my art, possibly maybe if I’d like to try, one day my words.

The best of all, besides the again, decision to try?

The best thing is that I said precisely what I felt God wanted me to say in response to the questions and I know there’s no way I will ever know how someone or some ones might decide to try as well.

Might become immersed in creativity of their own regardless of time or age or fear.

If you’re curious in nature and especially drawn to truths, you’ll want to read the articles gathered in a place called “Fathom”.

Overwhelmed, I’m overwhelmed.

Visit here if you’d like to see grace, all grace towards me, nothing but grace.

Fathom Mag

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

Dog and Pencil and Promise

Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, grace, Homeless, memoir, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Stillness, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Like yesterday, I open my pretty journal. It’s the exact color of soft tangerine, like the chair from my husband’s mama’s home.

A list, oh, how I love and live by lists.

A new one every morning, today with new names and needs, two of them unexpectedly hard and two more most especially and welcomingly hopeful.

I thought the other day, is prayer the most simple of things, another of many we make laboriously complicated?

Even if I hadn’t carefully jotted down using my rose colored mechanical tool and strategically added a dot beside each need and name…

Wouldn’t God know, isn’t it true it’s not at all necessary that He see, read?

Practice, though, it’s a practice for me.

Today, my list includes

  • WRITING
  • PAINTING

Opportunities and assignments await, one a farewell piece to a monthly column, two others submissions for possibility, actually three and one, an in the works more probable than possible featured artist in a publication.

This one, a wow, the kind comments from an editor. I shared it with my son, surprised by the reply, as if to convey,

You must do the thing you think you cannot do.

Eleanor Roosevelt

I sit with my today list for a moment then suddenly, opening paragraphs are completed with pencil notations of subject and submission.

I have begun.

“My heart is not proud, Lord, my eyes are not haughty; I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me.”

‭‭Psalm‬ ‭131:1‬ ‭NIV‬‬

I turn the page for empty spaces and discover a funny face of a child I began. I must’ve then handed the pencil over hoping to entertain her while her troubled mama and I met.

Lines all over my page, I’ll not tear it out or trash it, simply fill in the blank space and remember for a moment.

A little baby named Shyla, came home from hospital to our shelter, now a vivacious toddler with a smile that cannot be ignored.

A toddler with a passion and her mama with a purpose and me, us, our work a chance to be a part.

She called me last night, the mama. Things are going well, so very well. She’s a believer and she’s a bulldog to not give up or give in. She’s passionate about her progress, gives all the glory to God!

She’ll stop by, she said, with her daughters, one we got to help her bring into the world and the one we helped only a little with her reunification.

Then before goodbye she said “I love you.” first and it followed my reply, “I love you.”

Amazes me every time, drives me, compels my compassion.

So, I’ll not tear the scribbled all over page from my journal. I’ll remember on those days when I resent my work, when I’m grandiose in my ideas of being a painter and a writer only.

Lord, help me remember your equipping me for opportunities and your timing and your purpose. Help me remember I can do all of these things through you.

Forgive my resentment of what I see as obligation, work, and remind me again of my little spurts of writing that come all the more authentically when I sit and your spirit is evident becoming thoughts, words that flow.

Stop me when I justify my mood by reminding myself, my family, my friends, “I’ve been a helping professional almost 25 years!”

Remind me of days that flow like grace and days that are hard and filled with opposition and strife that all of a sudden settle and I’m met by the face of one whose countenance is now content.

Remind me again to wait, to wait for it to come. Make me passionate yet again about my work.

Flow so much all the more genuine, authentic and true.

Art and word, painting and writing, passions that feed and fuel me.

Thank you, Lord.

For a child’s scribbles in my journal, for opportunities and for potential in places that remind me to endure.

To be confident.

“So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded. You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised.”

‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭10:35-36‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Thank you for passion, enthusiasm that compels me to continue.

For

  • WRITING
  • PAINTING and
  • HELPING

Amen.

Linking up with TellHisStory writers.

http://marygeisen.com/tellhisstory/

img_5038

Good For You!

Art, bravery, courage, happy, praise, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

The wild rose bush overnight has gone crazy with color and even more, tiny cups of buds are straining up towards heaven for more.

My mama called ’em “knockout” roses, they like to “take over, take off on their own.”

The two bushes we have will grow and grow, come close to blocking the open door.

Not held back, who can imagine hindering the bloom?

“Therefore do not throw away your confidence, which has a great reward.”

‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭10:35‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Would you be unconcerned with the blisters on the tips of your fingers if you found yourself so very close to the perfect chord?

Every single morning brings new cliche it seems, assignments mine if accepted.

Steady streams of affirmations meet me in the morning, some Biblical and others captured and kept.

I’m bleary-eyed in the kitchen and it comes to mind, “What would you do if you knew you could not fail?”

The words meant to thrust us all towards some dream, goal, unmet challenge.

Athlete, Actor, Artist, Author.

Then another, “You can’t manufacture happiness.” countered the lofty motivation, got me thinking.

What would you do if the chance of failure did not matter, if you simply knew you must do…?

me

Would you forget your fear of drowning and don the clothing of a diver and plunge to the bottom of the ocean knowing you might find a treasure left somehow for you?

Would you answer yes to creating with your heart and hands something you’ve never tried before?

Would you abandon the ingrained nature to say no and be noticed by your yes causing yourself to be known?

Would you let your feet take you places your soul says go and go unconcerned with the mark left by your walk?

Would it not matter the strumming, the seeking, the saying yes as far as depending on what others might see or think?

Would it matter only that you had the courage to do the things you only know are yours to do for God,

for you and for the fluttering in your sweet being when you do.

You might finally understand God and creation and that it is good.

It is good for us, His intent.

“Then God looked over all he had made, and he saw that it was very good.”

‭‭Genesis‬ ‭1:31‬ ‭NLT‬‬

All good.

Good for you!

 

Amongst One Another

Abuse Survivor, bravery, courage, daughters, doubt, Faith, grace, happy, kindness, memoir, mercy, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Trust, Vulnerability

I suppose it might be possible.

That there might be some amongst us who don’t know struggle, haven’t had it woven intricately in the layers of their skin, embedded deep deep deep in the pits of their tummies.

I saw someone last night and I remembered how she’d been real with me and I, with her.

How I’d said yes to her unexpected invite for lunch, just wanting us to know one another more.

First of all, how often are we so honest? How rare are women that brave?

She shattered my illusion of her life more sublime than mine. She told me her story.

And, I mine.

I guess over a year or more ago. She listened as I shared the colors of my Bible, my story.

And I saw her and I told her what that meant to me, her opening her heart, her curiosity of mine.

What if we did that more? What if we left each other loved and uplifted, caressed on more than typical passing platitudes?

We’d know more the feeling of being amongst one another. We’d be more generous with our giving of time, less greedy for dominance in conversation.

Another friend made me cry when I held her and let her cry. It was hard.

Then soft.

She said it, what I already knew.

“I think I just saw God.”

I read a beautiful prayer this morning, a prayer by a French Archbishop whose name I can’t pronounce. It was a prayer asking God to find us when we can’t find Him.

Take my heart, for I canst give it and when thou hast it, oh, keep it for Thee and save me in spite of myself. Archbishop F’enelon

Someone mentioned feeling as if in an abyss yesterday and we then talked about the “cliff”.

If you’ve ever been in a deep place feeling like you can’t pull yourself out or if you’ve found yourself on the edge, on the cusp of disastrous choice worn out and miserable over what’s come your way, having to get real quiet or real loud and maybe say God, come near, be my rescue, remind me again.

Save me, yet again.

The Lord is my strength and my song. He has become my salvation. Psalm 118:14

We’re not made to cower.