Grace, still

courage, Faith, Prayer, Trust, Uncategorized, wonder

Is it true that a man was caged, standing tall and strong as he waited for the trail of fire to ignite his body?

Are children being ravaged and beheaded?

Are quiet men who profess Jesus lined up along the shore, told to kneel and then decapitated?

Kneeling, accepting the firm hand pushing their frames into the pristine sand anticipating the horrific force of death?

Did their blood make bright red the vast expanse of ocean, tinting pink the foamy tide until the high and low of nature settled its remnants along the ocean floor?

I wish I knew more, or maybe I am glad I do not. I am not a political person. I’m overwhelmed by world news and our country’s news. Coverage so divisive and frustrating, filled with uncertainties. If I’m honest, I am dangerously close to apathy. I am not all informed, but I can’t stop thinking about the 21.

I wish I knew that the horrors were exaggerated.

I read that reverent, firmly spoken prayers were uttered.

The mouthing of silent reassurances offered up in Jesus’ name.

The martyred 21 offering final and steadfast faith in God through prayers soft praises on a shore

Hollywood-esque portrayal of riveting and graphic violence

Perhaps, they knew we would not look away.

A cinematic broadcast of martyrdom simply to illicit our fear.

Brutal and belligerent terror, tyranny has gotten our attention.

But, we know of grace.

And we know of heaven and the glory to come.

That same shoreline ravaged by death met the morn of today.

The heavens opened and the warmth of a tangerine sky greeted our world.

The waves built up from the stirrings within and from below.

They crashed upon the shore again

Again, and again.

Making beautiful and resoundingly peaceful the place in the sand of lost lives

Fresh and new, grace still there. That same place of deaths.

Grace is there.

A cloud covered billowy sky with glimpses of God’s grace remains.

His grace endures, makes new. The heavens declare it so.

Let no one tell you otherwise.

Stand firm and be still in God’s grace, still.

The heavens tell of the glory of God. The skies display His marvelous craftsmanship. Day after day they continue to speak; night after night they make Him known. Psalm 19: 1-3

The clearing

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

Hope and Believing

Hopefully, full of hope. And Blessed by my believing.

Blessings, unanswered prayers, all the longings of my heart.

Are cherished by a Sovereign and attentive Father who gently, yet persistently desires my trust.

Patiently, watchfully waiting for my trust.

Trust in His best, His time.

Yesterday, I was blessed with clarity.

An unexpected gift in the routine of my day.

A new understanding of Hope…more than a forced emotion I try to convince my doubtful heart and mind to believe in.

Nothing good comes by force. One of my favorite “notes to self”.

Sometimes I force myself to glean understanding from God’s word.

Compulsory reading of scripture, habitual even.

Moving into my day with empty devotion, empty heart.

It’s the times though that we are moved by a word in a new way and we are changed.

We remember. We cherish the clearing.

Hope.

Hope does disappoint. It is planted in our hearts from God.

Romans 5:5

And then a favorite song, heard in a new way on yesterday’s walk.

A song on repeat in my car, my mind…a solo by me in our choir.

One stanza…just a line.

I listened and in the clearing, I heard.

God hears my imploring, sees my doubts, knows my anxious, analytical heart.

God is concerned with my calamity.

He longs for me to know this. To be changed by this knowing.

And simply, Believe.

“And all the while, you hear each desperate plea and long that we’d have faith to believe.”

Laura Story, Blessings

of great significance and value

courage, Faith, family, Prayer, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, wonder

Press on – knees down, heads up

I’m not superstitious and don’t believe in luck or ritual.

Yet, when I glance down to find a penny on heads, I feel favor.

A shiny, but weathered coin, yet stoic forward facing.

Lincoln’s profile reminds of my father.

Strong jaw, contemplative eyes.

Favoring and reminding me of his heart, good and honest, although worn, battered and beaten by life.

A penny on heads early this morning in the chaos of the laundry room, I pick it up and smile, slipping it into the pocket of my robe.

Of great significance to me

A house is built by wisdom and becomes strong through good sense. Through knowledge its rooms are filled with all sorts of precious riches and valuables. Proverbs 24:3-4

Common sense, a strong and honest heart, my father’s legacy.

Life beckons me to move courageously.

Quietly and confidently

With great significance

I am worthy and valued.

My fathers, both of them have told me so.

life unfolding and making sense

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

Confident of seeing the good God has for me

Life unfolds in a way that makes sense now.

God’s word not archaic or foreign anymore…not far away words from a far away time.

Paths cross. Brave and blessed believers now grace my path in ways that make absolute sense.

Because of God.

Only because of God.

Words in the form of praise or plea are sweetly stored and recalled at right time, right place.

Scripture, ancient Biblical struggles and victories are relevant, relatable.

Sometimes, recited as reminders by the right person.

How can it be that God would orchestrate my day so intentionally?

A quick stop at Food Lion midday, normally at the end day.

A familiar face turns from her work and smiling says ” How are you?”

The conversation turns to Jesus and I’m enlightened and amazed as she says, “Let’s walk up here.”

I listen as she excited tells me about how much God loves me.

Tucked away in the corner of the produce section

“God is unfolding His glorious plan for your life and the closer you get to him, on your knees, in His word…the clearer you will see.”

“You are worthy and you are valued. You are precious in God’s eyes.” She continued.

“You are distracted and worried. God sees that. He sees you standing strong in the midst of the chaos, like the wheat amongst chaff.”

Is it odd to talk about Jesus in the produce section with the Food Lion manager who stops by with donations?

Even more odd to listen as she speaks from God’s word of how the wheat would be separated from the worthless chaff?

That the wheat will stand strong and firm as the worthless chaff falls away?

Being wheat was something I knew I wanted to be to God. Years ago read of wheat and chaff and knew then I want to be wheat.

Not chaff, not worthless.

Valued by God, worthy. Standing strong.

So, it was not odd at all that for this time …God is Sovereign over us, after all…all of us.

“Praise Jesus, she says, Lisa…you are wheat!”

And we hugged, long and sweet and real.

My prayer has been for clarity

For God to make me more observant.

To pay attention to those who know Him, counselors so to speak.

And I have.

Thank you God for teaching me to notice, to listen, to embrace.

Blessed – a faithful promise

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

Believing God

I am seeing life from a different perspective lately.

It wasn’t a sudden realization of a new mindset or just a new, clear understanding of something I’d heard all my life, but never embraced.

Last year, I filled a trendy mason jar with slips of paper, intentional recordings of “good things” in 2014.

I ceremoniuosly opened the jar on January 1st, letting the little, wrinkly folded slips spill out onto my desk.

And I read each of the ” good things”…the blessings.

A trip with daughter.

A positive e-mail for my son.

A friend who understands me, a day of making an obedient choice.

I noticed, I’m afraid, that my attempt to be grateful was really just an exercise, an assignment, a self-imposed and empty chore.

Unfortunately, I felt no more blessed than before and I found myself striving just to figure out something to slip into the little jar.

And so, my word for 2015, “Blessed”

Not blessed because I can recall a couple of things that went my way or blessed because of something or someone or some break in a period of delay. Blessed, not because circumstances went the direction I wanted. Blessed as in God in His gracious mercy has unending favor for me.

Blessed, in that God says so.

Blessed, because I am loved and cherished by God.

Blessed, because God is good and has good for me, uniquely me.

Blessed, simply blessed and not just favored, but highly favored.

Blessed and excitedly anticipating God’s good.

I do have a new jar.

But, my little slips of paper, curly Q script, still pretty to look at will have sayings of “loved by God”, “held by God”, “protected by God”, “Blessed by God”, “Surrendered to God” or “Confidently waiting”.

Because God is so much bigger than just my circumstances!

Remembering and recalling the little things along the way still, but not with a dutiful tone.

But embracing, owning, believing without reservation and regardless of my circumstances….I am blessed by God and in His eyes, His bless-ed child.

Looking in the mirror at random and seeing “Blessed” in the blue of my eyes, the curve of my slight smile.

Blessed and bravely following Him, humbly, without fear, pursuing my Blessings, His faithful promises.

God will make this happen, for He who promised is faithful. I Thessalonians 5:24

let’s keep prayin’

Faith, Prayer, Teaching, Vulnerability

This is why we pray.

Every January I hear from Juanita. Last year, she wrote and mailed a Thank You card. She thanked us for Christmas presents and thanked God for us.

She signs up for our Christmas party, but doesn’t usually attend.

She has a mental health diagnosis.

Crowds, unknowns, expectations to be social are scary.

She’s better with her day to day sameness.

This week, Juanita called. I answered, “Mental Health America of Aiken…” and I heard.

“This is Juanita. I wanted you to know that when I said my prayers, I thanked God for you and for my Christmas presents.”

I said, “Thank you for calling to tell me that, Juanita and I’m glad you liked your presents.”

” I sure did, she said.”

I imagined her opening her gifts, a housecoat, socks, Dove soap, other essentials.

I remember her wishlist included a pocketbook and I pictured her reorganizing all her things, a lipstick, little notepad, various papers, maybe one of those little coin things you squeeze to open. I smiled as I thought of her getting it “just so” and then setting it down for her chance to go to town.

Juanita is a sweet, gentle spirit.

A gracious Southern lady.

We continued our little talk with, ” Miss Lisa, my psychiatrist asked me, “Why do you pray? ” and I told her, Because prayer changes things. Miss Lisa, prayer changes things. Keep on prayin’.”

I answered, “Yes it does, let’s keep on prayin’. Thanks for calling, Juanita.”

“You’re very welcome” she said.

When I pray, you answer me.

You encourage me, giving me the strength I need.

Psalm 138: 3

Peace – a quiet outpouring

Children, Faith, family, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

He is our peace.

I heard, last night about the tragic death of an eight year old boy.

This past week, I met the parents of a 26 year old who decided life and it’s struggles compounded by his own unique obstacles was too hard.

His mama, daddy and sister are grieving and profoundly sad at Christmas.

A grown man, for the most part a stranger has accepted my small gesture of being available to listen, and has retold his story through tears a few times now.

Listening, nodding. Being like-minded in the value of God’s peace are all I am capable of, even competent to provide as a support, a resource.

Because, the unfathomable has occurred.

The horrors that only leave a resounding “Why” and the aching pain in the chests, ribs and souls of those who grieve.

And now at home, the eve of Christmas Eve, discord at home rears it’s hateful head.

A whirlwind of exchange of anger, frustration, hurt and rivalry has been an occasional upheaval within our walls.

Siblings at different stages of life passages are simply incompatible.

Love and forgiveness, a bending of opinions, unique wills has to reign.

Mamas fight with all of their being to mediate.

To see both sides, to beg for bending, understanding, apologetic acts.

Yet, we’re torn when division grows broader, deeper.

When discord remains for more than a verbal match or a slammed door.

Moments passed, the house became quiet and I sat, positioned facing our tree, rain falling, shimmery lights and my homemade paper ornaments swaying slightly as reminders of my Christmas goals for this year:

Joy

Peace

Hope

Love

And I sat a little while, thinking I need to calm down. I need to pray.

Nevertheless, I just sat.

Absorbing, experiencing the dull ache of anxiety.

Half-heartedly allowing thoughts to fake their way from my mind, masquerading as prayers.

Lord, help this stop. Lord, this has to stop….

Finally, I walk determinedly towards my bedside and I kneel.

Resting, face on carpet, I pour out my heart to God.

The ritual becomes a peaceful ease, a flow without restraint, an outpouring.

I pray for the horrific loss of a little boy at Christmas. I pray for the profound loss of the mom and dad who will recall on Christmas Day the tragic suicide of a son just 3 weeks ago.

And I pray, surrendered to God through His Son Jesus, that I will follow Him through storms of change, aiming to create discord.

Follow His design for me as a mother to my children, a wife as a Child of God, the one whose goal is a family that loves God.

Mostly, that I will know and believe more strongly that

Discord is not of God.

That God is not responsible for the stealing of my Joy, of my Peace. Of my Hope. Of my family.

That I am strongest on my knees in prayerful surrender; not in a place of “Why me” random requests spilling from anxious, angry or dissatisfied frustration.

Because, when I pray with open heart, mind and hands, He himself is my Peace.

Jesus was born into a world of discord, of plans for evil, not good.

He was, after all turned away to be born in a stable. He was finally, despised, rejected and crucified for us, to be our salvation and our solace through the powerful Holy Spirit our gift of Grace connection to God.

And so He himself is our peace…The only peace in a world where Sin has entered in and has torn our hearts and souls for a longing, an imploring to abide in Him…in solemn and sincere opening of heart for Peace on Earth.

Peace I leave with you; my Peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. John 14:27

His peace, written in red for us, we are His disciples.

Peace, joy, love, hope are ours when we abide in Him through prayer this Christmas.

Talking about God

Children, courage, Faith, Prayer, Trust, Uncategorized

In His presence

I sometimes wonder if the way I talk about God sounds cliche.

Do I post a status, tweet a truth or say goodbye to a friend with a quick dose of wisdom, thinking “yes, that’s what I believe” ?

Or, recall scripture and toss it into conversation at just the right time?

Do I feel a sense of accomplishment because the wisdom of words stored up, came to me at just the right time?

If I’m honest, that’s boastful, showy even.

Do I place myself on the pedestal of reciting scripture when friends are engrossed and content in simple, attentive conversation?

Can I be too casual with the truths I’ve stored up?

Do I share sacred truths that have saved my soul (and my life) in a commonplace tone or one that assumes everyone knows His mercy?

I think I do.

And then, a moment of His Presence occurs and makes real all of the “going through the motions, walking the walk” routine.

A friend calls. A call about my work.

The conversation meanders towards family, life, of course our children.

We catch up. We commit to pray for each other, our unique angst over stages of childhood to adulthood worries, different daughters and sons but the same sense of needing to secure their days, their nights, their futures.

So, she says she will pray and I thank her.

A day later she calls and we compare notes on motherhood, prayers prayed, progress, peace, movement towards resolutions.

For us both, a sense of God’s weaving of good, in us and through us

She said, “God is working.” I paused.

And I felt it.

I felt God working. I froze, lifted my face upward and allowed the washing over feeling of mercy, of Grace to linger.

To describe this moment further would lessen its truth. To elaborate, searching for descriptors of this sense of God-nearness would tarnish its beauty.

God hears our prayers. Mine, yours. He hears.

God is working on our behalf.

Tell His story.

joy, peace, hope, love

Children, Faith, family, Motherhood, Prayer, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

One morning last week, I prayed before leaving the house. Not your typical “Keep us in your will and help us to be a witness” generic pill form prayer

Maybe, you know the prayer I prayed.

Imploring words, unashamed lifted up, open hands of surrender and honesty

Raw requests for the power of God to change hearts, minds, actions.

Intercessory prayer for the people I love, daughter, son, husband that their hearts begin to humble.

There has been a sense of hovering uncertainty and frustration and a whole lot of eggshell walking avoidance and unwillingness to bend in our family.

Nothing life-threatening just moody, stubborn, head strong battles over not so important things

Each of us, simultaneously on the brink of meltdowns over each one’s unique discontent

So, I prayed for them; but, lingered mostly on me.

Lord, let your love, you joy, your patience and your grace infuse my being.

Influence my words, my thoughts, my reactions.

Lord, help not pitch a fit, throw my hands up, begin a pity party or have the posture of a martyr.

Disorder is not of you, or from you Lord.

How could I not remember that this strain and stress are not what you would have for my family?

What you, Lord have for my family are Joy, Peace, Love, and Hope.

I am confident of this, for you are our Savior

Savior of my daughter, my son, my husband.

Our peace, not selfish ugliness

Our love, not angry, refusing to bend disapproval

Our joy, not disappointment

Our hope, not our “washing our hands” of a challenge or of one another

And so, last night rather than ornaments I used words to adorn our tree. Visuals of God’s reminders of the things he brings to our hearts and our homes…Joy, Peace, Love and Hope.

Jesus, help me

courage, Faith, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized

Matthew 11:28

Half-hearted and maybe just obligatory or lazily easing into morning, I read three devotions every morning.

It’s a discipline for me.

Yet, sometimes a nod back to my anxious church days of finger pointing preacher chastising, scaring me into faith.

Most days now, morning devotion is good and genuine.

It’s Clarity.

Marker for my faith walk.

Like today, when a simple phrase, “Jesus, help me.” became a prayer, written in my journal and dwelt upon

Meditated, settled in with relevance for my day

A bullet list of things I can’t handle, things I can’t let go, things I once again open-minded give to God

Things God knew already; but waiting for my letting go, the surrender of my heavy load, of my striving to control

Coming back, again…to Him first thing in the morning, to rest before beginning with a lighter load.

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