rest

I Believe, Soon

bravery, courage, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I had a thought this week, or maybe last.
It stopped me for a minute, made me anxious, made me wish for different, made me long for more.

Made me forget for a bit the more than enough that is mine.

I won't call it an epiphany because I consider epiphany good, of value and I suppose I find epiphany forward in thought.

No, not forward, my worries, they've been more backward.

I thought my thought, "What if the words stop coming? The so clear clarity needed to be recorded, what if I can't recall, if I can't record, if I for fear and time not free, become unable to write?"

My cousin told me it's coming.

She said she believes it is soon.

She's deliberate and decisive in her declaration. She speaks truth, cuts no corners, adds what makes better and leaves out what's not necessary.

She speaks the truth like she serves up dishes, plates it up, puts it in front of you, joins you there in the joy of her hands and then takes your plate away, leaves you full, content, lets you rest.

She knows I've been struggling. Tells me it's soon, the writing, the angels, not sure which or both; but, it's soon.

"God is going to give you freedom, Lisa and I believe, soon." she said.

But, I've been afraid although I know fear leads to nowhere.

Afraid I'm not enough, nor are my words or canvas.

Craziness.

Yes, crazy thing is I've written more and with more authenticity than ever before.

I've painted more often and more freely, more me and okay with me than ever in my life.

There's the fear of not enough, the insatiable emptiness caused by what if coupled with the pitiful thought of why not more.

I ramble.

I have been blessed. I assure you. I have.

Commissions for angels.

Another opportunity, chosen to be a guest writer on a well read blog.

Goes live tomorrow, my thoughts on gentleness.

I pray they turn minds, hearts and thoughts to good places, to God.

They are my words, my understanding, my relating to the story of Jesus and the time he initiated relationship with a woman at a well who'd decided herself unworthy.

A story of a gentle turning towards peace.

Yet, I've been afraid.

This week, last as well. I've been afraid of what may not be.

My days, the past two have been discombobulated. I'm going from thing to thing, told I could speak as long as needed, then someone else gets my attention by pointing frantically at their watch.

I get off track, room filled with faces, I struggle to know what should be said next, what to do, how to act, my chest aches, I'm afraid I've not done well, continue or stop abruptly?

Apologized for rambling then a self-proclaimed toastmaster tells me I should never apologize…no one knows you faltered…okay, yes, I know. I know.

Evening reading that's usually morning, Lord, set me free from the need to control, to be so very hesitant for fear of not being persistent!

So, I prayed. I circled round the word, Peace. I wrote it on my paper taped to my wall, the door closed, making dark my closet, the place I sometimes pray.

We walked, Colt and I. Approached the tall pines all clustered together.

The birds all frenzied it seemed, asking What? Where? Who?

When?

I longed to see them, such a frantic chorus, the melody of not sure.

Could they know I understood?

We walked on towards the open, the sky a steely blue, sunset coming, changing our scene.

And it was gradual, so much so I noticed.

We got back to where we began and the birds, more settled or scattered, not sure.

But, less an obstruction to my quiet, we stopped to rest in the place we had always paused before but had not in a long time.

Not for awhile and I realized then I'd been rushing towards someplace, my steps more like darting chances or longing lunges.

Tired and afraid or afraid to be tired
and unable, incapable.

We turned towards home unleashed, the moon hazy above, just past dusk.

The Rose of Sharon, the rare one, my husband told me.

I noticed the bloom, open and resting, the glory of its color and it was the answer I felt, I saw…I was reminded of rest, wait, faith.

"Come, Colt." I said and he came and I was better, more at peace.

What I have begun, I know because of faith, which is more, so much more than feeling, I will continue.

Now finish the work, so that your eager willingness to do it may be matched by your completion of it, according to your means. For if the willingness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what one does not have.”
‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭8:11-12‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee to Tell His Story and a post I love so much…living a life that lines up with my talk.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/happen-let-lives-preach-louder-lips/

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

Words, I Wonder

bravery, courage, Faith, grace, mercy, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

She replied to my comment about the absolute timeliness of her tender tone.

Newly acquainted if acquainted at all through the place where expression is shared called, "Reader".

Ocean all around me.

I wonder her whereabouts and how her thoughts turned towards me

Her words, I wonder.

Several days past, I'm looking for our exchange.

Trying to fathom how she might know.

Did I mention what's become my mantra, my affirmation and motivation?

Maybe I said so, that I'd decided to believe so.

That I was resting on three words?

Last week, the connection continued.

She remembered my upcoming question pending, anxious, worrisome issue.

This writer, this speaker, this person named Julie

Remembered and said she would pray.

Then added,

God is working.

And because I'd said the same exact thing to my pastor, to a friend and now a decidedly solid statement spoken to myself,

I figured, how could she know, I must've surely left it in my comment.

No, it just happened.

Crazy, I thought, oh my goodness!

I must tell you, I'm not a believer in coincidence.

Not at all.

But, something else, the sweetest most fancy of pretty fanciful words.

You won't find it on the pages of your Bible although it's much like blessing,

Much like miracle, like spiritual, perhaps supernatural.

Serendipity.

Yes, serendipity, yes,

an unexpected occurrence in a happy way.

So, tonight I will rest well, because

God is working.

Dare I believe, in serendipitous ways.

In miraculous ways, in unchanging ways.

In mercies that are new every morning

and in the words, I wonder, that one soul holds tight

and another soul

says, yes in agreement?

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. 

Little Specks of Much

Faith, grace, praise, rest, Vulnerability, wonder

Nothing but space and words between us three. 


Rambling and Random words.

Birds overhead not necessarily in search of crumbs, just happy to hover, excited it seemed. 


The day so pleasant in the midst of the miss part of hit or miss thunderstorms. 

We headed down to the beach, a quick little walk and when the radar was favorably wrong in its prediction,


 we stayed three or four times longer than the okay, we’ll head back in a minute pact, postponed seven or so times over. 


And the wide open space of blue gray bluer made me feel like the sweetest, most tiny speck of nothing significant but oh, so very much more. 

Oh, God, the nearness of you, I thought. 

Comfort and Perfection

bravery, courage, Faith, rest, Trust, Uncategorized

I sometimes write on Friday morning for five minutes because I’m not nearly afraid of a challenge as I used to be. I’m not nearly as mislead by the day when it is new and I sort of appreciate the Five Minute Friday idea, keeping me from analyzing every word.

Go. 


It’s not late enough for someone who is on vacation. Still, I rise and I meet me in the place of solitude. I scrunch into the corner, bordered by pillows on one side and my books on the other, some of them study, some sketch, another the book marked with the year. 

Coffee cup chosen to match the mood. Paisley, a keeper, every thing a reason, a season, a remembrance. 

Barely opened my eyes from the tossing of the night and not alert enough to fret. 

The morning still breaking, I sit void of lamplight and I read another’s words on perfection, the I AM definition. 

Find my comfort for this day, more to come 

in this year I called, still calling “breakthrough” with breaks that seem only tiny cracks letting the light in, the air out, the door creaking its hinge. 

“The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me. Lord, your faithful love endures forever; do not abandon the work of your hands.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭138:7

Comfort for today, bright hope for tomorrow. 

This post is prompted by Five Minute Friday: http://fiveminutefriday.com/linkup/

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/

dbdc4aff-5690-4e57-94e4-7badc916de74-319-0000001872923f25-2