praise

Wash Your Hair! an Early Story

birds, confidence, contentment, grace, happy, hope, memoir, praise, Redemption, Uncategorized, Unity, Vulnerability, wonder

It was early and I had a plan.

“What is wrong with my hair?” I demanded to me in the mirror, nobody else there!

I’d been mistaken for old enough for the 60 senior grocery store discount and I still can’t decide if I looked that crazy or just that worn out.

I mean, I chatted with the young man about how sweet it was to see all the men putting so much thought into Valentines flowers. He smiled. I thought he was agreeing.

Now, I know he must’ve been reminded of his grandma, he was thinking in a sweet grandson kinda way about me.

Am I becoming a crazy old lady?

That must’ve been it, I sounded like a sweet little old lady, crazy and sweet.

I should’ve said yes, I mean I could’ve used the discount considering all my little “Valentine fairy” treats I had for grown ups and for Colton Dixon aka the “living the life, Charleston dog”!

But, on the morning of Valentines Day I had a good plan.

And it was early.

I got up and got moving.

I didn’t sit with my coffee, my words, my not a single sound space but birds waking up to sing so I’d notice God there.

I looked for something red to wear then settled on black then tossed that aside for pink and then blue then back to black.

All black. Monochrome mood, I can’t help it, that’s just me, always been, not geriatric, just me.

I downloaded the app for Chick-Fil A, that was the plan, surprise my staff with heart shaped biscuits.

Completed the order, added my card, got in the shower and planned I’ll press “complete” when I get in the car and pick up on the way to work, get there on time today!

It was early! All was looking okay.

Hot shower running and a song in the steamy room, I lathered up my hair and the phone interrupted my flow.

I stepped from the shower to see what was the matter.

It was an emergency, a friend of my admin’s had an emergency and she wanted to tell me about it and asked me to pray.

Oh, okay.

So, wrapped in a towel I went to my room and knelt by my bed and prayed.

Returned to the bathroom, scattered stuff all over the counter and the biscuits were still waiting, still waiting for me there.

So, I hurried to get my black sweater fluffing from the dryer but got sidetracked by white roses in a red vase and a hot pink card with my name written fancy with little curlicues at the corners.

Like a teenage boy putting extra time in to make it so cute.

I smiled, read my card, moved the vase of flowers to a pretty place, my morning place.

It was early! I was still doing okay.

I applied my make up, penciled in my brows in the space there are now only remembrances of hair.

Added mascara to thin lashes and considered more blush and lipstick a hint of more red.

Then began the process with product to make the best of my thinning hair…but, it wasn’t like it should be, no volume could be created, no curve around my cheek and no lift at all on top at the crown.

That’s when I shouted to nobody there,

What is wrong with my hair?

when nobody answered, I remembered, you forgot to finish, you didn’t rinse.

And I had begun early, for once I was early!

I cancelled the biscuit order, took off my jewelry and rewashed my hair.

We laughed so hard when I told them, I tried y’all I had the best intentions and I pointed towards heaven more than twice or three times to tell the truth.

It was early!

I just forgot to wash my hair.

Now I’m laughing to myself, Hmmmm…were they laughing over my crazy lady story or laughing over my insisting it was early?

Get yourself some employees and friends who know you and love you and more than just a few times.

Believe you when you tell them it was early and even if they don’t believe you because they know you so well, they still laugh with you.

And they always, always show you grace!

This one’s for you ‘Chelle!

Stepping Out to Wait

book review, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, freedom, hope, memoir, mercy, obedience, Peace, praise, Redemption, surrender, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

Thomas asked Jesus where on earth they were going and how can we get there if I don’t know the way and Jesus answered saying stay with me, go with me, I’ll show you.

I am the way, the truth,

the life. John 14: 6

Last week one gentleman told me he was proud of me for “stepping out” and that our paths may cross again. He’s a retired magazine publicist.

Another who was formerly my boss; but, always my friend listened as I shared my current “leaps of faith” and later ended his kind note with “I admire your faith.”

Both of them I sat with and shared my coming changes, my uncertainty of what will be and my peace that I am choosing rightly, to move into a new season and allow God to develop the rest of my story.

Be patient til your wings are grown. St. Francis de Sauls

Kate Motaung and Shannon Popkin have responded to the question agonized over by me and other writers hoping to gain an audience, hoping for eventual publication.

Their new book is an important one for naive and introverted women like me, ones who are known to be quiet.

Influence, Building a Platform that Elevates Jesus, Not Me

How to navigate the work of making yourself known so that others will know what you know of Jesus.

Some time ago I was on the launch team for Kate’s Book, A Place to Land, a Story of Longing and Belonging.

I knew of Kate because I participated in her 5 minute Friday link-ups as a way to conjure up words for writing and deep down inside, hope somebody, just anybody might notice me, my words.

Occasionally they did and occasionally they still do.

I’m not really the “community” type one, I keep to myself. I’m known for saying I am so tired of “peopling”.

I am believing this will be different in my new season people.

I have continued to read Kate’s work, posts and the helpful encouragement in my mailbox. She responds to my questions about writing. She responds so promptly! (Something I personally love)

I’ve gone from yearning to have a writing life similar to hers (sorry, Kate, for a little bit, I was jealous) to believing her advice and seeing I can have a writing life of my own.

Kate Motaung has influenced me.

But, back to the question over putting myself out there or just cowering in my corner hoping somehow some reader might stumble upon me, my words and pronounce me worthy of reading…

This is the imprint of my childhood. Do not ask for anything, pretend you can do life without attention or recognition, don’t seek to be noticed or noteworthy.

In a time when we are inundated with attention seekers, social media places becoming outlets and a grasping for just one other person to know, there’s new pressure of deciding to stay quiet, to stay in “our own lanes”, at least I feel it is so.

I am learning slowly, the best way, not everyone cares about what I say.

And that is okay.

Some do and tell you so, adding comments like “please don’t stop, you’re the first thing I read everyday!”.

But, the curious, voyeur-type readers of my instagram or my blog who scope me out and quietly slink away…

These are the ones that hinder me.

That cause me to question my goals.

These are the ones that read and I imagine are saying, “Why does she think she is supposed to write this way or who is she to think she has something important for others to know?”

I’m afraid these are people by whom I am personally known.

Is it this way for others? I wonder.

They’re probably just busy; but my little girl unnoticed feels insignificant so often, the imprint of insignificance trying to hold on.

Less often and increasingly so, I have readers leave comments or people who say “I needed that.” or “How did you know?”

They thank me for being brave, honest, for saying and writing about a pain they may have known or know.

These readers encourage me to continue, to grow.

To grow in ways like joining Hope*Writers, being brave enough to be with others.

To believe the words God gives me from my experiences and my perspective are mine and mine alone; but, they are words someone else may need.

That someone might have a similar heartache, a breakthrough type epiphany on grace or even may find a new way to connect with Jesus through my interpretation of a parable or passage something to which we both relate.

Kate wrote of her mother’s death.

She and I have a similar story although vastly different.

My mother passed away nine years ago yesterday. I was in a fairly new position and living two hours away. Kate was in another country, airline flights away. We both set other things aside to be with our mamas.

Gut wrenching and emergent interrupted days, we held onto the time we had left even though our hearts longed for more. For me, at least, I always longed for and thought there would be more.

I treasure our bonding through her words, her description of the drawing of her heart to be beside her mother, the angst over not being able to be constantly near and the utter helplessness and surrender to our lack of control.

The realization of this lack when I had returned home too early and I got “the call”.

Others may have read Kate’s story and gained so much more or been impacted in a different way.

That’s the power of our stories.

Today, I am trying to lean in to where God wants my writing to go.

The balance between letting go and continuing are much like my battle of being known and staying in my place.

Much like stepping out to wait.

I know that if I continue I won’t even look the same because my heart will be open to where God takes me, the story He is developing no longer hidden.

I’ll be different, I’ll be the me that God has always seen, has kept purposely through so much trauma and self-destructive “dis” grace.

My note to self of late?

Continue and Believe. me

A good starting place for a newsletter or a book title, I perceive.

For now it’s for stepping forward to see what God has for me to share and to increase my believing so that others will believe.

This, I believe, is what God means by influence.

I’m linking my thoughts up with others on this topic of thoughts and childhood labels and hindrances to pursuing platforms so that our writing voice might grow.

join in here: Thoughts on Platform Building

Thanks so much, Kate!

God is Busy

Angels, Children, confidence, contentment, courage, daughters, Faith, family, hope, memoir, mercy, Motherhood, Peace, praise, Prayer, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.”

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭3:5‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Last night I told myself I needed to get with the times. I need to be aware of how they are truly changing.

I am now that person who is panicked over what the world will be for my children’s children.

I was not this way before.

My mindset was one of oh, it was bad a long time ago too, people have always been violent, issues have been challenging and intense. Children can adjust as long as they have the firm and loving foundation of family and God.

But, I got all worked up over something I saw on the internet about three year olds. Close to midnight and I’m wanting to research it more, prepare myself to protect my grandchild.

The thing is, influence is either worrisome or wonderful. It is unwaveringly committed and steadfast in whatever the influencer believes.

Children, I am certain, will be influenced by the ways of those closest to them and by those who make a commitment to stay close to God.

Last week in church the preacher asked “Who in your life most influenced your faith by their life?”

There are a few people for a few different reasons.

But, I cannot deny my grandma.

She was quiet and private with her Bible.

She was unwavering in her commitments and traditions for us.

She was industrious.

She was gracious.

My name is written in red in her Bible, all of the other names are there too.

A few weeks ago, my “Aunt Boo” reminded me of God’s control and of being sure He is working all for good in my waiting to know.

She reminded me of the refrigerator magnets at my grandma’s that were letters spelling out, “God is busy.”

God is busy. Doris Evelyn Peacock

I told the story to my daughter.

She smiled. She remembered and I promptly purchased a bag of plastic magnets because every single day I too need to remember.

He’s got the whole world in His hands.

God is busy making ways for us.

God is busy dispelling myths about Him, replacing them with reminders of truths about Jesus.

About His love.

God is for us, not against us and He is busy being sure we believe.

Linking up with others on the prompt of “influence” here.

INFLUENCE

Sky and Bloom

Abuse Survivor, birds, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, hope, kindness, memoir, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, surrender, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

“Catch the foxes for us, the little foxes that spoil the vineyards, for our vineyards are in blossom.”

‭‭The Song of Solomon‬ ‭2:15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Cold in a way I had no idea, I removed the soft heavy blanket and because the birds had begun to sing, I turned and saw the sky behind me, bright with pink.

Longing to see more and to see with a more private view I ventured to the backyard.

Bare feet on crunchy frozen grass, my steps became a dance and rather than staring towards the sky I became captivated by the camellias.

Pink, I decide is the color of vibrance and optimism. Some petalled balls fallen from the branches and in varying stages of change, some clinging gloriously and a few yet to bloom.

I pray we don’t get the icy days we southerners disdain.

I pray the terminal frost that curtails the continued growth stays away.

Because, the camellias this winter have blossomed in grander and more undeniable ways.

Or is it my notice that has changed?

Has a sense of hopeful curiosity begun to enlighten my belief?

Changing doubtful speculation to committed curiosity over things that might finally be?

Things I believe are for me, abilities and opportunities designed by God.

I am beginning to trust it might be, that I will see.

Jesus has seen me and is pleased in my growing understanding of Him.

Mercy is becoming more than “Christiany” expression tacked on in hopes to gain acceptance.

Mercy, I am finally seeing.

Is for me.

Jesus, leaving Jericho heard the desperate cries of two blind men sitting on the side of the road.

Their sense of hearing compensated for their inability to see and so, they cried out loudly to Jesus asking for mercy. The crowds chastised them, these pitiful men positioned on their way.

How dare they ask to be seen, much less to be able to see?

Have you felt this way?

Felt that according to God and to others, you should stay in your place, why on earth would you believe there could be grander things to see?

The blind men must have been desperate, must have been shouting.

Jesus paused for them.

He asked them what it was they needed.

Jesus wanted to hear their deepest need.

“And stopping, Jesus called them and said, “What do you want me to do for you?” They said to him, “Lord, let our eyes be opened.” And Jesus in pity touched their eyes, and immediately they recovered their sight and followed him.”

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭20:32-34‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Yesterday, I sat anchored by weighted rice bags on my abdomen and thighs, the sense of settled safety, I was seeking.

I joined in my friend’s “Midweek Mindfulness” and loosened up the places where my stress had made its abode.

Anchored and waiting, eyes closed in meditation, I struggled to be still, to stay composed.

Surely, this will soon be over, I don’t know how much longer I can hold this pose and I can’t think of a single additional thing to let go and I’ve prayed my prayers and I’ve focused my focus…

Then she begins to speak of curiosity and I naively conclude she’s done this solely for me.

It actually could be.

I listen and decide curiosity is a worthy mindset, not one curtailed by pessimism or conclusions to my stories, rather a careful and hopeful, continuous pursuit.

The blind men could have chosen what they’d always chosen, likely just being careful to stay out of the way

Instead they decided to be brave, to be curious about Jesus and to give new sights a try.

This morning beckoned me out onto the cold January ground and led me to see beauty, not only in the morning sun but in the blooms fallen and fading making way for new.

I get emotional over a couple of lines in a pretty song. The voice is captivating, tender and true.

She makes a quiet and sure proclamation over her soul and unknowingly, mine.

She sings, “the foxes in the vineyard will not steal my joy!”

It is a tender song, inspired by the verses from the Song of Solomon, a book that reads like poetry, sonnets and splendidly passionate love.

Good to Me

What are the “foxes” in your vineyard? What present or past or based on your own predictions is set on stealing the joy you’ve begun to get a tiny taste of?

Exchange the sly intentions of the evil one committed to keeping you back for the mercy of the merciful one who asks.

What do you want me to do for you? Jesus

Speak of your need despite others silencing your curiosity.

Believe mercy will always meet it, always meet you.

Lift your eyes to the hills.

Your help will come.

Continue and believe.

I’m linking up with other writers at Tell His Story. https://marygeisen.com/in-the-middle-of-winter-guest-post/

https://marygeisen.com/the-one-word-that-almost-wasnt/

What Can Be

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, freedom, grace, grief, hope, memoir, mercy, obedience, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Peace is possible.

I almost interjected this possibility to one and then to another.

One distraught and rightly so, I listened and became exhausted over my lack of anything I may be able to do.

I sat and simply took it all in.

Her dismayed lack of peace.

Another so burdened by wrongs and unable to live without fear, so protective and unbelievably afraid yet so very ready for something to change.

Both unable to know what might change their directions, what might help them understand the unfairness of their fate.

I have no real answers other than the three words seemingly from nowhere that are clinging to me and I, clinging to them.

Continue and believe.

I’m prone to storing up my interactions, sort of disengaging emotionally as I am present in my professional role and yet, the stories linger and they don’t stay buried for long.

I believe that is God’s way, to not waste any exchange meant for me to grow, to continue on and give words to feeling, maybe help another to grow.

I wanted to tell the mother grieving and in dismay that I still believed God is faithful and that I believed she could have some peace. But, I didn’t. It wasn’t the right time or the place.

I wanted to tell the one homeless with her daughter, terrified of everything, that life can be simple, dependable, peaceful I believe.

But, I didn’t. It wasn’t yet time, it seemed best to wait until she begins on her own to see.

See, peace comes to us in different ways, in our own separate time and place.

Jesus was the object of speculation and of disbelief and disenchantment, much the same way was John the Baptist.

The disciples were learning as they followed while the onlookers and the intellects were set on deliberations of who they thought the Son of God should be. I guess much of who Jesus appeared to be was not their idea of a “prince” or one able to bring about peace.

Jesus essentially said and continues to say, just walk with me.

“Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you.

Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls.

For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭11:28-30‬ ‭NLT‬‬

I imagine me alongside Jesus. We are going forward, we are making clear the path through muck and mud and I am smiling as I am looking straight.

I am content in the steadiness of Jesus’ steps.

So, I walk with Him.

He is doing the bulk of the work of getting us through the rough places, keeping me out of the ditches, breaking up the ground for the goodness and growth that will rise up behind us.

Jesus and I together, we are breaking new ground.

Not settling where I am. He says come with me.

Peace is possible. Continue and believe.

Like Saturday Sunshine

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, freedom, grace, happy, hope, memoir, obedience, painting, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

There was no hurriedness only a little curiosity over the day. The open day with possibilities until evening and then a time to be guests with friends.

Quietly, I lie waiting and watching and saw the little clementine colored circle peaking through the sheer in the open space of the blind.

Saturday is here and it has something to say. Says you’ve made it this far now let’s get going today; but, let’s keep the same pace.

The pace you gave a name to line up with your deciding to commit to being faithful.

Believe and continue, believe and continue.

Like the sunshine’s swaying smoothly shadows, it’s an easy feeling, like the Eagles old song it’s a “peaceful easy feeling”.

Believe and continue, no self-imposed pressure any longer, no succumbing to the doubt of others who may be intrigued by your continuing because all along they suspected you never would or could.

Believing God is with me, His Spirit, Jesus is for me, with me.

I am for Him.

It’s no longer about being worthy. It’s about continuing while believing.

It’s silently seeking and being met by something unexpectedly good.

The sunshine is splendid where I’m sitting, saying Come and see, come and see.

Eyes closed for a little longer and prayers added on, building one upon the other and then more and more that came to mind.

I open them at peace and find patterns now excitedly dancing on the blue places of the rug as if reverence has clearly met relief and together they have birthed belief.

“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.”

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭7:7‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Come and see what happens when you continue to believe…continue now with me.

True You, Letting Go of Your False Self to Uncover The Person God Created -Book Review

Abuse Survivor, Art, book review, bravery, Children, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, family, freedom, hope, mercy, obedience, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Stillness, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder, writing

I’ve just finished a book that’s causing me to be more brave, to acknowledge my own unmet needs and my less than consistent motivation and faith.

It’s New Year’s Eve and I am hopeful for 2019! I’m rushing its beginning, my heart longing for change, helped along by a very important book!

My 2019 word, like a label, is Faithful. I’m believing more clearly that God is faithful, more importantly, I’ve decided it’s not too late for me to be faithful in a few things!

I considered deleting the opening sentence of this, it being characteristic of my brooding, possibly seen as seeking attention self, being pitiful. Too honest, too brave.

But, the geese flew over, a loud and harmonious chorus at the very second I felt regret and so I saw that as a sign.

Leave your truth there. It is time, use what you’re beginning to learn.

I’ve just finished a book I’ll read again.

True You by Michelle DeRusha

After reading about her “being called out by God moment” I was challenged to discover the true me, to label the labels I’ve worn all of my life, assigned to me because of circumstances out of my control and handicapped by some of my own mistakes.

But, I couldn’t do any of this suddenly, so I asked God, what are my labels, my idols, my self-handicapping behaviors?

And then I rested and returned to read more and to realize some of my behaviors, my default mindsets and choices are simply what I know as me, keeping me from becoming the me God sees.

I know how to halt my progress, derail the train as it approaches the life changing bend because I’ve not lived in the land of confidence and courage for long enough to extend my stay, to be welcomed in.

To believe it’s a place I could live.

In this book, I gained confirmation of this thing I do, putting limits on my blessings, selling myself short, minimizing my part in my arrival at the place of who I was created to be.

I make it less than it is, the good that’s come my way, through my own hands.

My grandson stood over me as I painted, finishing up pieces for my first exhibit. He sweetly said “You’re really good.”

I smiled and asked “You think so?” He replied yes and asked how’d I get so good at painting.

I replied “I just kept trying, I just kept learning.”

“No, you are a good painter ” he insisted standing so close beside me, captivated as I explained the use of palette knife instead of brush.

And I didn’t discount it, I didn’t insist that he was wrong. I didn’t minimize his sweet praises.

I didn’t do the thing I’ve done for so long, I accepted his assessment of me, I owned it, I believed it belonged.

He labeled me a “good painter”.

Crazy thing, I have been painting for so very long and until that little exchange I’d never felt I could be called an artist, “a painter”.

Always, oh well just the one who keeps trying, keeps trying, I enjoy it, it’s therapy, I had an art scholarship but I flunked out.

Strategically distracting from the accepting of just maybe I’m good.

In Michelle De Rusha’s book I was especially changed by Chapters Four and Five, the ones on brokenness and on dark and desperate periods she refers to as the “hard prune”.

In Chapter Four, I read of the emotional epiphany the author experiences as she comes to terms with her lack of intimacy and utters words to herself that must have surely broken her heart, that her heart was not as close to God as she’d believed.

I didn’t have clarity in my vocation, in my calling as a writer, because I didn’t know who I was in God. Michelle DeRusha

My thought? How brave and how very scary her self revelation!

I had to pause, knowing it’s for me quite the same.

Chapter Five describes seasons of doubt, depression, dark nights of souls.

Unbeknownst to the world until long after her death, Mother Teresa suffered from a long and relentless dark night of the soul. Michelle DeRusha

We’re conditioned to push through those times of dark abyss. We push through, we masquerade, self-medicate with substance and empty activity.

We keep plugging along when what we need most is to accept it, to settle into the solemn and to let the soul get quiet enough for long enough to know what it is it needs to know.

Our culture is contradictory to that response, the letting the sadness and the times devoid of tangible hope do God’s work.

I don’t think I’ve ever thought to welcome seasons like these, I’m quite sure I’ve never thought them beneficial, the blah absence of growth or motivation or meaning.

I never realized they have a reason, there must be a settling into stagnancy, an acceptance of lull in blessing or breakthrough so that we seek Him and find authenticity in our faith again.

We have to let go of the self we created in response to hardship, to circumstances and we must not be pulled back there, to the places we know because we’re afraid of good, it’s too unfamiliar.

We have to allow and own our uncovering of our souls.

Our deepest, truest, most essential self has been waiting all along for this opportunity to be uncovered and exposed to the light, waiting for the invitation to grow into its fullest, richest, most beautiful potential. DeRusha

This book was not easy for me, it was true in ways I hadn’t expected its truth.

Occasionally, I pencilled and tabbed and then set it aside. I feared I was not ready to see some things, afraid to be called out of my past and current patterns.

I was afraid it would be too scary and difficult and even unfair to my messed up me to consider thinking new possibilities of me.

Early one morning I had clarity in making my list of labels and it occurred to me that yes, all of these were decided for you, assigned to you, expected of you.

You simply played along, sat in your corner, came out only when called and never having any inclination that right now you’re still wearing them, really have all along.

God’s seen you quite differently and patiently and consistently is calling you towards His idea of you.

So, my labels I’m letting go of along with their clutching and anxious handhold?

Victim

Misfit

Big girl

Black Sheep

Lost Child

Throwaway Child

Shy Child

Hidden One

The One Without Needs

Addictive Personality

Pitiful

Failure

Dreamer

Middle Child

Quitter

Too Deep

What labels have you lived with for too long?

I signed up to help launch this book and I remember commenting to the author

“Something tells me this book may change my life.”

And it has, it has been a beginning towards change.

I’ve only scratched the surface here.

If you’re ready to live freely, openly and be pruned of unproductive, dormant and decaying parts of you, your “tree”, you should order a copy.

If you order by midnight tonight, there are extra encouraging good things.

I’m so grateful Michelle De Rusha experienced her coming face to face with her self defeating behaviors that hindered her knowing God fully and truly.

Her story is important because she is closer than before to her “God You”.

Me too, hopefully you.

Exhibit One

Art, bravery, confidence, courage, Faith, grace, painting, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

Show me what to create, tell me what to say, I pray.

Seven paintings, canvases thick with mixture of medium, soft in color, sun, water, sky, trees, cloud, fields and an angel inspired by mama.

Seven paintings that will cover a small wall at our County Visitors Center.

Seven paintings that represent trying and believing it is possible and possibly not too late.

Seven paintings that were worked and reworked and almost covered over to be “girls”, but not because I stepped away, prayed a little, thought a little and let them rest a day to return to make more thick the colors, more evident the shapes in hopes that others might notice like me, notice God in them.

Not me.

“For nothing will be impossible with God.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭1:37‬ ‭ESV‬‬

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

Abuse Survivor, Advent, Angels, Art, bravery, Children, Christmas, confidence, contentment, doubt, Faith, family, fear, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, grief, happy, heaven, Homeless, hope, obedience, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

My morning will not be boisterous with unwrapping, celebration won’t come until later.

Children are adults and we’re laid back and flexible, open and accepting. I’m anticipating the day, anticipating spirited appearances, nuanced moments of Jesus in it.

The angels told the shepherds not to be afraid when God’s glory illuminated the sky, an announcement of a Savior.

And Luke ends his beautifully researched compilation with the words of Jesus, again saying fear is something you should never feel.

Of what are you afraid today?

Why are you frightened?” he asked. “Why are your hearts filled with doubt? Luke ‬ ‭24:38‬ ‭NLT‬‬

What are you doubting on Christmas morning?

Everything changes at Christmas except for Jesus.

Jesus stays the same, do not be afraid.

Merry Christmas to you.

Do new things, you can and you will, I’m remembering now my mama, she came to me last night in a dream.

Angelic, she was as she waited for me and without a word guided my continuing, gave approval of my plans.

Finally fading into the distance after nodding, smiling, giving her okay of who I am.

A beautiful vision, angelic it seemed.

Do not fear, Lisa Anne. Do not be afraid.

Merry Christmas to you.

Merry Christmas to me!

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

Advent, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Salvation, surrender, Trust, waiting, wonder

“Rebelieve”

The blue of yesterday’s sky was phenomenal, like a breakthrough.

The moon at dusk already so full you believed you might touch it.

Clear and undeniable.

Last night I held up a tiny candle, listened and sang with a sanctuary of others.

We all were proclaiming “I Believe”!

And then we all left the service and went about our two days before Christmas ways.

I am prompted to pray this morning, leaning into Jesus, asking for more of Him to show in me, my request for continued transformation.

Progress not perfection

Optimistic, I am, for 2019.

Jesus foretold Peter’s denial. Peter denied he would.

The disciples were with Him as he prayed to His Father, not my will but thine. He rose from his prayer to find them all sleeping, told them get up, this is a critical time, you may be challenged to leave me, you might be tempted not to stay.

Jesus was arrested and they all watched him being led away. Peter, Luke recorded, stood back a distance away.

He sat with the ones who accosted Jesus.

“And when they had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and sat down together, Peter sat down among them. Then a servant girl, seeing him as he sat in the light and looking closely at him, said, “This man also was with him.” But he denied it, saying, “Woman, I do not know him.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭22:55-57‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Others asked as he sat with them. I imagine, the plan to destroy this man the rulers were all afraid, afraid he might be more knowledgeable, more inspiring, more inviting, afraid he might topple their lofty positions, afraid that they were wrong, would be proven wrong.

Peter could have told them all, it is true, I have been with Him, I have seen.

I know Jesus. He knows me.

Jesus was more than they wanted to believe, the people all sitting around the fire in the home of the high priest.

Peter was aligned with them and he denied being a believer of Jesus.

And just as Jesus foretold, the rooster crowed.

“Peter said to him, “Lord, I am ready to go with you both to prison and to death.” Jesus said, “I tell you, Peter, the rooster will not crow this day, until you deny three times that you know me.””

‭‭Luke‬ ‭22:33-34‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Peter allowed logic and the desire to be one with the rulers and religious leaders cause him to sit the fence of doubt and assurance.

It can be hard to believe a happening from 2000 years ago. Believing is a choice and it’s an ever increasing assurance. It’s unexplainable.

It’s a real sense of connection and it is remembering your life before and knowing your life now is lighter, enlightened and significantly meaningful because you know you’ve mattered all along, that your life and its purpose was an intricate part of God’s plan.

Lean into Jesus at Christmas, it’s the perfect time to know Him more,

To believe and “rebelieve”.

I know Jesus. Jesus knows me.