Prayer

Impatient for the Bloom

bravery, courage, Faith, grace, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized

We have tomatoes this year.

Past two years, nary a plump fruit on the vine.

They'd make a showing of possible and then wither up all rich and red, fall to the ground in a plop of smushed up soft and no good at all.

But, this year we bring them in, let them rest on the windowsill and the ochre colored places on thinly stretched skin change from soft orange to rich red.

The place on the top where the vine let it go, caved in, the top we slice off, toss aside like big straw hat.

Happy with the good growth, pleasantly surprised by what we've made.

I've been troubled by an idea, an aspiration, a hope brought to light that has yet to yield its bloom.

I'd like to blame it on time, responsibility, aging body and mind, career and/or doubt, inability, not skilled enough or not good enough or as good as…

But, I know it's doubt and discipline and the teeter totter of one more weighty than the other that likely has tangled the roots up unable to grow.

I noticed the bloom, the one left to linger and the one with roots deep down and growing deeper.

The one that was trusted to grow on its own.

Massive blooms.

Surprisingly new growth.

Perhaps, the soil finally grabbed hold the root and the vine.

Or maybe, the not yet ready decided ready and the roots held on tight while the growth reached out and opened in bloom.

I heard someone talk about cultivation. What before, sounded like work began to sound like trust combined with discipline and with surrender to knowing my part and my part only and

then waiting, all the while longing for the opening of the bloom.

I read about seeds and big faith and I believed a story told by another of a longing fulfilled.

I listened as she told of waiting, of not manipulating, like not breaking up the soil, over watering or moving from sunny spot to sunnier.

I asked myself, am I doing my part, am I quiet in my ambition, will whatever I produce bring respect, cause others to see were it not for grace I'd not have grown so strong, or to be honest, not at all?

The humble and healthy tomatoes line the windowsill and there are more waiting on the vine.

The summer has surprised us.

We planted again, left them to grow, let them be and they grew,

quietly and unexpectedly, they grew.

My ambition, before to be noticed, now waiting, planting, anticipating bloom.

Quiet Confidence, the place I grow.

“and to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you,”
‭‭1 Thessalonians‬ ‭4:11‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Thinking Grace

Abuse Survivor, bravery, courage, Faith, grace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Trust, Vulnerability


If it hadn’t been for the tide coming in

I’d have sat longer. 

I prayed. 

I pondered.

  I dozed, the soft thickness of fading easy.  

Legs outstretched and eyes closed behind shades and ball cap. 

I was praying, not napping. 

I was recalling grace. 

I’ll spare the details of it all, the times grace came near in forms other than answer or reprieve. 

Real rescues, touchable.

People. 

There are some times grace looked my way and were it not for grace 

there are places there and 

then I’d have gone.

And maybe not come back the same. 

Grace, so very hard to grab hold of like oh, goodness thank you God, when you had no idea of grace 

being grace back then. 

You were gone, too far gone to see. 

So you think of grace as evidence, as your protector standing from a distance watching and nodding to say, 

told you. 

There’s a reason you are still here. 

A Prayer for the Uncertain Creative

bravery, Faith, grace, Prayer, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I must have tucked the words away, the ones shared by David Kanigan about writing and reluctance and for me, waiting to see if others may approve or even just read.

It was wisdom for me, a jewel: Permission to just write without measure of success

I let it linger, mingle with lyrics and truths until it commingled in a good way to make me pray.

I wrote out a prayer last night, cause you know, writing for me, makes it more likely to stick:

God, guide me so that my writing honors you only.

Help me to help others have hope. May my only desire be to please you.

me

Then I wound up again, in the beginning of my Bible and I remembered when Moses told God he absolutely was incapable and God said, let me show you.


Lots of ways to pray it, say it…the prayer for me, the uncertain creative.

Lord, open doors you want opened or Lord,

equip me to glorify you, not me

or you might pray,

God, help me to get me out of your way so that you can have your way or

equip me to write, to paint, to live in a way that brings you honor,

not me

not notice or concern or praise or

sometimes pity because

my words ring too true.

Because of mercy, in Jesus Name,

Amen.

 

Vulnerable, Uncovered 

bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, marriage, Prayer, Salvation, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

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Only just a few minutes filled up the space of the time the storm moved in and I went outside to notice the sky and then a little more space between us sitting by the pool.

We talked of God and Eden and things we keep covered or rip off the cover, I thought, exposing what we feel must be better, must be ours to know now.  I’d walked outside after the storm had shaken all the windows, my husband walked in the room and announced, “Well, that was some show.” Paused and then to make sure I noticed added “I probably shouldn’t have been standing out in it”.

I listen, knowing he’s talking about the lightning; but, he does this thing lately, like a conversation starter game.  If I hadn’t said, “You mean the lightning?” He’d have come back with “Don’t you wanna know about the show?”

And I would have listened as he told me something I already knew.  Such is the play of who we are now, husband and wife aging, grace and more grace. (Smile.)

I walked out front to see the sky. One big chunk to the left, clearing with a puff in plump peach colored sun popping through enormous cloud.

I turned to face the road and wide bands of dark cobalt stretch out to border the horizon with more clouds warning,  it’s storming over there.

Stood there for a while and wondered how it’s possible to see the sky and not believe.

“O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭8:1‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Why the sky and its display of power and authority in itself is not enough to make us sure of God.

Why we don’t stay sure for as long as we should when we get to see such glory when we go looking for it, notice it’s God.

“When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭8:3-4‬ ‭ESV

The night, too beautiful to be ignored, I walked out back to sit, turned back to see the view and the moon had broken through, full.

I tried to capture it; but, realized I can never do justice, so just gazed instead.

Still thinking about God.

When my husband came out to join me, I asked “Don’t you think it’s amazing how we get to experience earth’s beauty even though creation was not exactly as God planned in Eden?”

He replied, “Do you think we’d all be walking around naked, if Eve hadn’t messed up?”

And since I didn’t answer, he went on to wonder what I thought and said “We would all just be walking around naked and nobody would care about being naked…wouldn’t bother you at all.”

“I guess so.” I replied. Such is the dialogue between us, I’m thinking majesty and beauty, he’s thinking freedom and unclothed bodies. (Smile.)

I thought about Eve later, Adam too.  I reread the account of creation, reminded myself of the earth and sky’s forming, imagined God stepping back like I step back from a canvas, satisfied and thinking it turned out the way I wanted.

And God saw that it was good.

Genesis 1:26

 Adam was created, then Eve and the plan was complete, they’d multiply. The earth would be filled with men, women, children and families.

God welcomed them in, gave instruction on living and left them with a final word not to eat from the tree called knowledge, the tree that distinguished good from evil.

And they didn’t for a while. They must have enjoyed the garden; been content in their state, knowing all they needed was already known.

I wonder about this time in between, how contented changed to discontented and sufficiency became insufficient, how enough became never, always more.

Eve succumbs to the need for more knowledge, more control, more knowing and she eats the fruit that will help her know all, she’s been told.

The serpent’s rationale, well God must have surely known you’d want to eat from the tree or else he’d not have put it here. He wants you to be wise…your eyes will be opened to the bigger the better, the all, you’ll be like Him, the all-knowing.

Then they did their best to hide from God; they’d both become ashamed and they covered what God had intended as beautiful, uncovered.

So began the lots of our lives here on earth.

Wanting to know more than we need to know and then hiding away when we’ve rushed to know it all, certain that we can’t be expected to not know, to trust the one who made us, surely it’s okay to take control.

Yesterday, I read a favorite verse, clinging to just a few of its words.

The secret things belong to the Lord.

“The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law.”

‭‭Deuteronomy‬ ‭29:29‬ ‭ESV‬‬

There are some things that I might never know, that aren’t meant for me to uncover.

Yet, there are so many more I’ve waited to understand that I now see clearly.

Why the road led me to Carolina, my father’s instructions to return to college, the  plans I forced that fell through my fingertips and the healing that I prayed for, believing, but was not given my mama.

There are stories for my children, how things that didn’t turn out, did after all.

Adam and Eve tried to conceal themselves, told God, you can’t see us like this. We know you’ll be angry, we’re afraid so we’ve covered ourselves.

And He was disappointed.

Disappointed they didn’t believe his promise for them, that it wasn’t enough.

He called them out of hiding, asked if they ate from the tree, did someone tell you that you were naked or do you know things now you should not have known, things that weren’t necessary for you to understand?

You will see, some things are too wonderful to be known, to not be sought after, to not be taken hold of by force.

I think of David and his prayer to be restored to the joy of his salvation after giving in to lust and then trying to cover it all up.

I remember Rebekah, the mother who made it her calling to have one son favored over the other, their demise, her legacy.

And I treasure the story of Job. I see him abandoned and grieving, his body covered in sores and his commitment not to question. His friends, his wife all unable to wait alongside him when he’d said no to cursing God and dying.

I hold close his truth, my truth, all our truths…some things are simply too wonderful to know.

“’Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?’ Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.”

‭‭Job‬ ‭42:3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I told someone just now, the major planner that they are, looking far ahead into our futures and the things they expect just makes now look less than enough.

Makes the grand of now go unnoticed.

 

Told them, there’s no way to know that this good thing we expect will come for us. I’m not looking that far ahead nor am I assuming what the wonder of tomorrow will be or not be.

These are the things too wonderful for me to know, not mine to uncover.

Only mine to ponder, to have make more sense when the thoughts become words and I get to spread them out here or in the pages of a tiny pencil marked book, I get to be vulnerable, uncovered. (Smile.)

I’m linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee to Tell His Story.  Read here about why we shouldn’t be afraid to take scary chances.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/scared-heres-shouldnt-take-chicken-exit/

Where the Book Falls Open

Abuse Survivor, bravery, courage, Faith, grace, mercy, praise, Prayer, rest, Trust, Vulnerability

If you’re a Bible reader, you’ll know what I’m feeling. On my way to the back of the Book where the chapters are listed by date, I rested in the front, almost the very beginning, Deuteronomy. 


The other choice was read the Book of Philippians again, thinking, you remember how much stronger you felt then; but, instead I sat with some words faintly underlined from a couple of years ago. 

A time I needed to not know everything; but, couldn’t stop trying to figure it all out. 

I prayed last night before sleep, here I go again, Lord, agonizing over things I don’t know and reasons for things that I do. 

The secret things belong to the Lord. Deuteronomy  29:29

The thing is, that’s only half the verse. Moses goes on to say, “but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law”. 

I flipped the page and there’s chapter 30 reminding us there will be blessings and curses, yet we return with all our heart and soul and our fortunes will be restored. 

Now, I know Moses was talking law and not grace or mercy; but, I was craving for just a glimmer of light to keep me keeping on. 

I scanned towards the bottom of the passage and saw the place I’d written “beauty, the thing of grace” in the margin and the promise I believe is an answered prayer, 

The Lord your God will make you abundantly prosperous in all the work of your hand. Deuteronomy 30:10

The same God who led me to this passage when I had plans for another is the God who will lead me on closer and closer to the bend in the road. 

The place where I see the works of my hand as worship and honor of a God who is worthy of my praise. 

All my heart and with all my soul. 

Understood 

bravery, courage, Faith, Prayer, rest, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder

I unhooked the clasp on his collar, letting go the tension of my command. 

The sky cloudless, air thick and lethargic, summer feeling too long already. 

I put no pressure on his wandering.

Unleashed the leash and let the high grass rub his belly, swoosh, swoosh, swooosh. 


Then he meandered around, circled back when I called “Hey!”

I’d had things on my mind an hour before. Running errands, traffic light, I look up to notice blankness of the face in the rear, then wait for the change. 

Tapped lightly on the knob to shut out the noise of radio and decided to pray. 

Prayed for my friend again. She wants the cancer in her brother not to have spread. She says he just decided he needed more time, more time to make up for the time he had not honored God. 

So, I prayed and said to no one around

“I understand.”

Then prayed for another heavy hearted for no certain reason, prayed somehow they’d know their value, know they’re loved and that whatever heavy weighted thoughts and concerns had them bent down low, they’d see relief and they’d see themselves as good despite whatever their own voice has been saying. 

Then, again…out loud for no one to hear, I added “because, I understand.”

I understand. 

So, I allowed myself a moment as I drove, it happened, just a hint of an invitation to cry.

Slightly moist little place on my cheek, I tap lightly with the tip of index finger and touch there, the place where understanding puddled up. 

Then decided once home, it’s not a workout I need, it’s a walk with Colt. 

So, I guess that’s why we walked the long way ’round, the way with no bounds, the overgrown places, open fields and no expectation or rule. 

I waited. I let him be

Understood. 

And I believe, me too. 

Freedom and Light

bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I woke with no set agenda and allowed myself the luxury of slowly becoming wide awake. 

I’m thinking a new thing today, I keep singin’ “Free your mind and the rest will follow…”

Because, yesterday a change began to be considered. I’d taken a step, asked for feedback, been honest over my angst. 

Been brave about my being afraid. 

I’m remembering this morning, the power of changes I can make, the power of asking God to help me; but, me being able to move towards the bend in the road. 

Ever the one seeking approval, yearning for affirmation, I had become overwhelmed by advisors, critical thinkers, step takers and this is how, let me show you contacts! 

I told the consultant I was overwhelmed by measuring up, by following recommendations and by being good enough in the eyes of others. 

I took a step. I discerned who to believe. Made perfect sense, she knew a little of me, why not show her more? 

I was honest. She listened and responded with a tangible and godly plan: 

i) Has become a little overwhelmed by the whole process of writing and the whole process(1) Too many voices clamoring into her head.
(2) A lot of peer pressure
(a) A lot of other good writers out there
(3) SUGGESTION: Turn off the other voices (unsubscribe, choose not to engage in self-imposed expectations) and just write the manuscript.
ii) Doubting God’s will
(1) Does not want to glorify herself
(2) Does not want to shed light on the trauma
(a) There are some dark times she had forgotten
(b) Does not want to bash
(c) Does not want to remind her family of the hurt
iii) SUGGESTION: Just Write. Do not let the fear of saying too much keep you from writing. Everything can be edited.

So, this morning I stopped counting at 30, the choice to unsubscribe to all of my advisors on writing. I’ve honed it down to five. 

I’ll follow the advice of Stephanie Haynes 

http://www.stephaniehaynes.net/
(oh, I believe it’s a God thing, her name, her frame, her role) and I’ll become independent in my writing. I’ll not hold back. I’ll pour out my heart with the goal of rough draft by July of 2018. 

I reminded myself today of the meaning of independence, of freedom; but, most fitting, I believe is autonomy: the freedom from external control. 



This is where I am this morning, I’m shutting out the voices of too many well meaning and informed advisors and I’m making room to hear my own voice more clearly, more freely, more unafraid. 

More ready to shine my light unhindered by comparison or critique. 

“”You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.”

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭5:14-16‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Life and Peace

bravery, Faith, grace, mercy, Prayer, rest, Salvation, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

The spongy little leaves keep popping out, the ones near the soil turning darker, even falling away. I positioned my mama’s broken pot in the direction of my gaze.

When I’m in between understanding and figuring out, I look over and let the void of not always knowing cause me to stop my circling back to self-condemnation.

I don’t understand words like “righteous” fully; I just know I’m not supposed to be self-righteous.

And I don’t really feel good enough to be called pure, I’m more prone to remembering my sins.

Yesterday, I had a chance to sit with someone and talk about being “righteous”.

We talked of tainted pasts and ideas about ourselves shouted loudly from the mouths of others.

I had my Bible and she asked to hold it.

Her hands reached softly, she opened and turned the thin pages with a sweet respect and she noticed the margins, the place where I let my mind unravel, the place where it’s clear I believe.

Her hands moved sweetly over the pages, she sighed “oh” or “so beautiful”, the sketches and my scribbling.

It was a quiet time, unrushed, a beautiful exchange.

Is there need for any more than that?

Than more of moments like these, when I listen to the Spirit nudging me to do something unexpected, to sit with another and talk about my long and winding path to believing I am loved by God?

To do so without long discussion, debate or standing up high on my pedestal to say “this is how it’s done! “?

Because, if I’m honest I’m still learning to rest there myself, believing unwavered.

The little succulents in the broken pot are a miracle really. Finicky little species of plant, they’re best left untended.

Too much water, they drown. Too much shade, they wither. Too much sun, or not warmth from sun in just the right time, the thick leaves fall from the stem that is meant to nourish.

I started with two plants; now, there are five. My mama’s broken pot with birdnest and a feather, now like a shady forest.

The petals that broke away finding soil again, growing on their own amongst the others.

This morning, I went back to questioning my righteousness, unable to fathom ever calling myself pure or noble or upright.

Those labels make no sense to me, I am pondering. I am searching for understanding and I am praying.

Dear Lord,

Enlighten me.

Make things clear for me. Be near so that I will know the nearness of you and

I’ll not need to look for you in the

Measurement of me.

Amen.

Then I turned to Romans, because my read through the Bible guide directed me there, no other reason other than I tend to follow rules.

I saw the margin, recognized my hand there:

The words I’d written “life and peace” and the underlined verses that told me how and why.

“For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace.”

‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:6‬ ‭ESV‬‬

To rely on me for my growth, for where I may be planted is futile. To be so very close to God, it’s oh, so mysteriously unfathomable at times, is really not so complex at all.

Grow where He has me, where he plants me, gives opportunity to bloom again after growing brittle or withered, weary.

To live by the Spirit is to absorb His word and to be less driven towards my part in this life lived by faith,more willing and surrendered to allow His Spirit to be my guide.

Guiding me to places like my Bible in the lap of another and a quiet conversation about why I believe in Jesus.

Not because of the scary preacher who called me “Sinner” but, because of a gentler Spirit, the Holy One.

“No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:37-39

linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee today at Tell His Story. Read this really beautiful piece about sitting alongside others and being kind: http://jenniferdukeslee.com/best-thing-can-4th-july/

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Reason To Believe

bravery, Faith, grace, mercy, praise, Prayer, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

“Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” ‭‭John‬ ‭20:29‬ ‭

Something about the words of Thomas caused me to stay there. I kept my Bible open, read and paused, then read again. 

I underlined the words of Thomas saying he’d never believe. And the words of Jesus, saying “Peace be with you”.

I felt my throat tighten, rested my hand on my heart and contemplated life without believing, without His peace being with me. 

I considered those who don’t believe or believe differently and I thought of how rarely I share my reasons for believing. 

Worried over not being theological enough, not being skilled at debating, it’s tough to explain such a significant relationship, one of believing someone and some things I’ve yet to see. 

You have to see for yourself, these things we’re incapable of seeing. 

My faith, my believing is because of answered prayers, it’s splendidly simple. 

Big challenges, little shows of His glory, sweet gifts, these are the answers I’ve known. 

So amazing, I liken it to being close enough to touch the scars, the places where he bled. 

Prayers and blessings and peace,

Reasons I believe.

Steady Now

bravery, courage, Faith, mercy, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

My little Gideon

I almost slipped. The floor causing squeaky basketball sounds, “shuffle, shuffle…squat, shuffle, shuffle, squat!”

My right foot almost folded. I paused in the repetition, considered faking injury, dropping out. 

Began again though, doing this push me farther than before thing. 

Getting stronger, not smaller, I’m changing me for the better. 

Inside too, I woke with this song this morning, “O’ Come to the altar…O’ what a Savior…hallelujah !”

Setting the tone, making steady the way I’m walking today. I pray and I say thank you for teaching me to persist. 

I say thank you for fresh perspective, music in my ear and a tiny Bible close to my work with words that my eyes land upon, saying “I’ve got you…you got this!”

A new idea, I’m excited, plans to prosper them! 

Plans, Passages, Prospering

Keep me steady now, Lord.  Day by day, dear Lord I pray. 

Music, scripture, prayer and persistence.

Steady now. 


Linking up with a community of ideas and grace and writing for Five Minute Friday! 

Visit here:  FMF