Wait and See

Faith, grace, Prayer, rest, Trust, Vulnerability

The morning, for me means a pocket of quiet, either peaceful or pensive.

The evening walk finds me seeking, seeking, seeking.

An intentional unraveling, unfolding, disposal of day.

Pushing forward. Heavy walk, no lightness in pace or stride..

Walk feeling like consequence, not reward, some days.

Still, I walk, moving forward to the place of sometimes better for it.

The morning, sometimes the same.

Rote, habitual, methodical list, gratitude becomes cliche, I fear.

Then, walking I remember the morning’s request and pause to ask again.

It bears repeating, beckons for conversation.

Draws me near to God, I pray again.

Waiting, more attentive now, more straightforward and certain of my plea.

Then walk on as if tossed upwards, floating towards blue sky

untroubled then, unburdened, more genuinely submissive.

Then, again, a sweet reply, unexpected quite so clearly and quickly.

I remember then, the evening walk, the morning quiet.

The reasons why.

The joyous being heard, being known despite frailties or frustrations.

“Wait and see.”.

You are the God who sees me.

I have now seen the One who sees me. Genesis 16:13

Not Be Overtaken

courage, Faith, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Turmoil was all around.

Thoughts and questions about how and when might be the end of grace, of safety and whether calm might return again…before another wave overtook them. Overtakes us.

No Fear of Storms

The water must have been dark, dark and ominous because of the storm and emotion of the day.

Jesus was praying on the mountain, mourning the horrific loss of John, seeking understanding from His Father…doing what He needed to do to continue His calling.

The storm was treacherous and maybe the disciples left on the boat thought, surely this is the end.

The mercy of God has run out on us.

But, Jesus came to them, walked across the waters raging and calmed them, calmed the storm saying: “Do not be afraid.” Matthew 14:27

Take heart. Be assured, truly.

Believing in Mornings

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

The emotion of morning makes believing more possible.

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Opportunity, like sunlight through the tall trees in the side yard, is almost here. If I am patient and look towards the morning as it spreads across the day, I choose to believe.

If I am patient and look towards the morning as it spreads across the day, I am sure of my choice to believe.

Quietly, assuredly, right on time.

It’s no wonder I love the morning.

I love its clarity and confidence, love its comfort and cocoon-like embrace.

I woke feeling slow and tired, disguising discouragement in more acceptable words.

I woke in need of the morning.

Like choice of word, I sometimes ride the fence of emotion.

Choose to look too far ahead or too far back.

But, morning gives a chance to pause, gives reason to believe.

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I read Matthew 13, a series of little stories. Jesus using them to teach about choices. How to plant seeds, care for them and how you should let the weeds grow amongst the wheat.

Later you’d know what didn’t belong and you’d harvest good things.

Jesus talked about heaven as a treasure, a pearl and about the smallest of all seeds, mustard that would grow tall…so tall that birds filled its branches.

I thought, “Thank you, Lord, I so love the birdsong”.

And morning, reminded me then, aren’t we worth more than many sparrows if we would only believe it true?

The people were confounded by His parables, found them ridiculous and nonsensical.

So, he left them there with his stories.

And he did not do many mighty works there, because of their unbelief.

Matthew 13: 58

I go back to the side yard, abundant in bloom thinking again of choice.

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Then, decide to pray and to believe.

The bigger and heavier the disdain, the more powerful and possible the prayer.

Deciding to believe, choosing to pray.

Believing in mighty things.

Every morning

Life and Treasure

courage, Faith, grace, Prayer, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I noticed it there.

The early morning humidity touched my face like a clothes dryer opened to reach for clean towels. Clinging to my skin thick, unwelcoming and uninviting, I fill bowls with cool water for the dogs and glance toward the corner of porch.

Such a heavy morning, blah, slow moving pessimistically blah

I see it and move to capture it, getting closer to notice its frayed edged wings.

Black velvet and azure blue with little specks of bronze, I’m careful as I reach for it, my thumb and finger delicate in grasp.

Wings broken and pressed like a sentimental bloom, I decide to save it, for the sake of simply feeling fortunate in its finding.

So, I bring the butterfly inside, lie it down on the page of the day’s Psalm and carefully move my Bible to the center of table as I go to make coffee.

The house is quiet and cool, ceiling fan whisping my hair and the butterfly just slightly shifting on thin page of Bible.

I read from Psalm 7, thinking of harmful and hurtful times.

I thought of anger, fear, lives lost and of blame and judgement, of understable hatred and hatred stirred up.

Thought of my thoughts and I wondered then, do I really understand?

Could I maybe understand more clearly?

Noticing verses, timely and clear, I pause.

O’ Lord my God, if I have done this, if there is wrong in my hands, If I have repaid my friend with evil…. Test me, you who test our minds and our hearts. Psalm 7:3,9

Help me to see me clearly.

Then, I prayed and wrote and thought of hopes to see more clearly.

To do no harm if I could help.

Like the butterfly, captured and killed on back screen porch.

Could harm have been prevented?

Had it come in to escape the weather or maybe Colt, the happy lab bouncing in the air, excited by its beautiful movement snapped his mouth sharply and clipped its wings?

Brought it to the porch, a delicate and beautiful treasure harmed by rough exchange of play.

But, found by me.

A thing of beauty, tortured, lifeless, but beautiful still.

Life, its beauty remains.

Life, a treasured gift.

Going There

courage, Faith, family, grace, Prayer, Teaching, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

There’s a place I’d like to go except that it’s hard to go there. I imagine the plans, think of the beginnings and I understand the decision; but, wish it made sense for now.

It wasn’t a trailer, it was a mobile home. It was big and solid and positioned in the spot away from pines but cushioned by the shade of trees. Its foundation was intentional and solid, not blocks strategic in their placement, no there was a real foundation.

My parents’ last home, the home place. They waited a long time to be there.

The home was stable, designed with stability in mind; it sat on a firm foundation.

The road to turn towards the place is still dirt. A slight left at the bottom of the hill will carry you through a narrow path and a field to the place it still sits.

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It’s been a long while since I’ve gone to the empty house. Someone asked recently, “When’s the last time you went?” I answered, “A long time, hard to think about it.”

Then nothing else was said.

It’s still standing despite years and weather and no touch from the hands of family. But, still standing because it was built on a permanent foundation.

The place of its situation is level and smooth, built on faith, dreams and hope and it was good.

It was loved. It was loved well and will be again…at the appointed time.

Yesterday, I heard a quick word about good things that come at appointed times. Things that come when we reject the hindrance of doubt. Essentially the words reminded me, God is good and Lisa, he wants good things for you. He knows the things you long for, things that have been established ahead of time to come to you.

The foundation is there. The building up is happening, maybe you don’t see it. Maybe you want to rush in, rebuild, tear down,start over. You look back at what was or you look at the passing of time and fear the longing to build will be forsaken…you’ll accept the falling down of the roof and the rotting of the boards because you understand it can’t happen on desire alone.

And some of the tools of the rebuilding are simply not yours, are not matters in your hands.

At the appointed time, though, if you believe, it will come to pass.

The foundation will be there underneath it all. It will be steady. It will not have moved.

Waiting for the time to build again, a place to gather and remember our family, our foundation, to built on strength and heart and patience.

Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord. Psalm 27:14

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Morning Love and a Prayer to abide

courage, Faith, praise, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

Lord, help me live in a way that my actions,my thoughts and my words can’t help but show how strongly you love.

And help me to be so trusting in my walk and so firm in my faith that no doubt or fear will hinder or make questionable my belief in You.

Remind me of the place of your dwelling, my heart, so that the ramblings of my mind not overshadow the Spirit of you, the Holy Spirit in me because of Jesus and mercy and grace, unmerited…unmerited.
Guide me to find you again and again and to remain there, that a place of abiding in you.

Lead my fingers to the words of ancient truth, truer today than I’ve known before.

Do not love the world.

Love God. Love your brother.

Abide in light.
I John 2:7-17

In the name of and because of Jesus, I pray.

Amen

I will pray

Children, courage, Faith, family, grace, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

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On a blue, blue summer day I drove to see a friend, one of the women who’d colored my life.

I knew all would be okay, would be good actually, when I turned off the highway from the usual road. I’d traveled before, this road towards home, countless times.

The vicinity of my destination for today was close by, just a different direction.

Others might not understand the nervous place in the hollow spot adjacent to my heart or the need to go back to a place of then to acknowledge now.

So, I’d been praying as I drew closer to now.

I’m taking this journey in increments, circling back to be reacquainted. It’s a challenge of my faith in me and an act of gratitude for them.

The road just a few minutes from my friend was a thin grey thread towards a needle, narrow because of wide sky and corn field borders.

Its curves were easy, not sharp, its little hills and softly, forwardly coaxing me, like God’s hand resting on the small of my back, saying

“Getting closer, keep on.”

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There were big houses along the way set back behind fences and oaks and there were small little white ones, tiny porches and trailers up on cinder blocks, cool under shade of fully grown and lush July green.

A small brick home, a couple of old cars and a bed of roses at its entry made me wonder.

Off to the side, a simple sign like garage sale or politician’s was positioned just so, leaning only slightly despite storm I’d been warned of.

Bold, simple, intentionally brief; but with exclamation at the end.

“I will pray!”

Yesterday I prayed, most days I pray at set times and randomly.

My heart sought assurance and in return I noticed the sweetness of answer.

I welcomed answer and prayed in reply with a slight smile no one might notice, “Thank you for that, God. Thank you, Lord.”

Some would say, if I shared my prayer and the evidence of its hearing…that’s silly, you just worry or that’s no big miraculous reply.

It is and it was and it’s why I believe.

In God who is just as majestically sovereign as He is miraculously small, attentively swift.

Yesterday morning and again last night, I prayed. “God, help our country.”

And I wondered about the past, my parents, my grandparents and those recalled in history, when times looked as bleak and scary and incomprehensible as they do now.

I wondered why or if there are people like me who pray about children, friends, husbands, or a heart’s desire…but are now, just now we are praying… God, help our country and maybe, like me, are torn between

“Come, Lord Jesus” and “Trust and Obey”

And our prayerful mama hearts want much for our children and theirs…want time and hope and good things. We long for happy futures, faith-filled lives filled with smiling babies and beauty.

I wonder if there were times like these before.

Times when all felt lost and uncertain. Times of Job, of Isaiah and of Moses, of David, of Martha, Mary and Paul.

I listen for their cries for help in the words of my Bible and I search for God’s replies, finding them in thousands of places, replies of good and everlasting joy and of protection and favor in midst of struggle.

I hear God saying to them, to me.

“Choose me. Choose joy.”

But let all who take refuge in you rejoice;
let them ever sing for joy,
and spread your protection over them,
that those who love your name may exult in you.

For you bless the righteous, O’ Lord; you cover them with favor as with a shield. Psalm 5:11-12

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I embraced my friend, told her I expected I’d cry and we cried and talked and shared onion rings and fries.

I prayed and she told me she’d been praying and we reminded each other of ourselves and our unanswered prayers for our good and we prayed, we pray. We will pray, we agreed.

It was easy and good and love. I left her sweet house with emotions that beg for holding onto, the description of our time and our talk resting safely for awhile in a place so closely real and beautifully raw.

So, I drove back towards Carolina, indescribably, thankfully good, especially glad.

The pretty road just as pretty and the view different only because of direction and another house…white, small but with big trees, tiny porch and front yard sign proclaiming,

I will pray!

Let us pray.

I will pray.

Linking up to Tell God’s story with Jennifer Dukes Lee

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/what-we-all-have-in-common-tellhisstory/

All is Grace

Children, courage, Faith, family, grace, Motherhood, Prayer, Uncategorized

When it happens you will sense it. When a gathering brings a chance to pause and the evidence of grace looms large, an aura of God will capture your eye, captivate your thoughts.

You’ll find yourself immersed in a grace God promised all along.

You will know this time is one to treasure. You’ll not dwell on the doubt you had so long and so often expecting such grace and good in things that weren’t for you.

You might have decided to settle for less, half-heartedly longing for more. Perhaps, adjusted high expectations, dreams, regrets and accomplishments less than what you’d dreamt of, even driven towards.

You may realize that letting go and letting God was not as much struggle, just reluctant acceptance still sort of wishing for whatever. Eventually you accept a different way with only small little moments of wondering why or why not.

Looking so intently, striving for what amounts to joy that we chance missing the grace.

But, then grace, not one to give up, finds and overwhelms with its delicately powerful and undeniable presence.

“…we could never learn to be brave and patient if there were only joy in the world.” Helen Keller

On an evening to gather in the country for supper, the sky so wide and stormy, I’ve no desire to go inside. But, I do, offering to help prepare. The kitchen window, wide open to sky, I’m distracted by glory.

Looking through windows covered by gauzy linen, I pause again. The beauty of this place astounds me.

All is grace, I think.

To me, it was a heavenly occurrence here on earth, a soft nod of grace and assurance, remembering the words I’d scribbled on my husband’s Father’s Day card…”We are blessed.”and sitting in room with assurance of grace.

All is grace, I know.

Relentlessly Quiet

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

It’s a practice, maybe more like a ritual, this morning thing I do.

An intentional discipline, I suppose. Sometimes motivated by an open mind, others, if I’m honest, an idle mind longing for more time to be idle.

Seeking for something indicative of hope or something demonstrative of my commitment. I guess, maybe I’m sometimes looking for the fruits of my laborious devotion.

The discipline of devotion, I sit in my quiet spot with a noisy mind.

Realizing, intentional discipline and the pursuit of God turn out to be not much more than duty, sometimes.

Looking for holy becomes holier than thou.

Not always, but pretty often, if I’m honest.

I finished my reading and got ready for the day, stopping suddenly and clearly with interrupted thoughts of the day to come.

So, I just waited, holding on to what I knew to be a word from God, as if to say.

My waiting, actually quiet enough finally. must have been noticed by God.

I believe.

“I’m glad you’re listening. This is what I want you to know. This is what I have for you today.”

And there it was, my reply

“I want to do more for you, Jesus.”

Then, carrying this little few seconds around with me all day, I smiled, thinking maybe God smiled too at the simplicity of my words in the quiet of empty morning house.

Standing still, toothbrush in hand, frothy lips and thankful heart, the irony of my devotion time.

I considered his relentlessly gentle pursuit of me.

Jesus, the shepherd, waiting quietly for my attention.

Pursuing me, one of his sheep distracted by life, habit and duty.

My sheep hear my voice and I know them and they follow me.

John 10:27

Happy to be found and happy to hear, like morning interrupting my morning.

The birds incessant, the dogs insistent.

I ventured out, found and tossed tennis ball and paused to notice God in the pleasant chill of summer breeze.

Ball retrieved and dropped, “thump” at my feet, he waits as I stand barefoot in moist green grass, wisps of cool on my cheeks.

And then, more wisdom, subtle in its delivery, a “Lisaism” .

“God is everywhere. Don’t forget to notice.”

Giving Them Back

Children, courage, Faith, Motherhood, Prayer, Uncategorized

…She continued praying before the Lord.
I Samuel 1:12

The wonder of the Bible is that you may have heard or read something before, but read again and just one verse will stick, maybe your ears are different, your situation or your place of mind and heart.

The telling of another’s struggle, their story read again or attended to in a new way as if written just for you.

And you might not be in that “place” right then, but there’s a familiarity of there that astounds and resounds.

Hannah was a woman of great endurance and there must have been times she quietly trusted, but others she cried out; she cried out to the point of people thinking she must be either drunk or crazy.

Seriously, this is why I love my Bible! Because haven’t we all been there? Longing for what our hearts told us could and should be a part of our life? Longing for resolution?

These not so quiet prayers make us anxious, a little crazy and might cause others concern.

These are not the easy prayers. Offered up and left for fulfillment.

These are the prayers for good in bad or hopeless, exhausted. These are the prayers of women, of mothers.

Hannah endured. She made it clear to God that she would be a good mother, she’d be thankful for His blessing and she’d give it right back to Him.

How did you endure? they may have asked.

And her reply was my reply.

“I opened my hand, my fingers relaxed, my palm towards heaven and said, This is your child, God, have your will.”

She’d remember her answered prayer.

Others thought she shouldn’t be so vocal, so steadfast, so committed to her request.

But, God heard and God answered.

So, may we remember prayers like that and may we remember God’s answers to them.

May we remember He blessed our endurance.

With good things like children.

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