Little much

Children, courage, family, rest, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

corn flakes, banana and pecan

Yesterday, we all had dinner together.

Beef brisket on little buns loaded with jack cheese and buns made shiny by warm butter

Fingerling potatoes coated in olive oil and Parmesan cheese, crispy under the broiler

A cole slaw fancied up with creamy bleu cheese, crushed pecans and cranberries

Decadent macaroni and cheese, thick, soft and warm

My attempt at a little cafe’ worthy finale’, custard and Nutella blended gently over heat, cooled and then covered in melted marshmallow, not the star of the show,

still sweetly delicious.

Gifts exchanged late Christmas night. Laughter and languishing. Sprawled out in the den.

Late night led to late waking.

Back to the kitchen, I go for the simple.

Remembering my grandma’s house when we all had breakfast from the box with the big rooster.

And how I loved it when the honey colored flakes floated in a pool of white.

I’d dip into the bowl with little fingers, pick just one and bring it my mouth, letting it rest softly on my tongue.

Then I’d turn the shallow bowl up and drink down the milk that tasted like candy

My feet swinging loosely over the edge of my grandma’s chairs up close to the big table.

My cousins all around me, the day after Christmas at the old house in the country.

Little is much, I know this to be true, know its peace.

gift of enough

Faith, grace, praise, rest, Uncategorized

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I made honey cranberry butter for my family and passed them out without explanation.

A simple twine ribbon and tag marked “enough”, I gave nothing else.

It occurred to me today, whether they’d wondered about the word, “enough”.

I thought of the gift of enough, what it means to me, the acknowledgement of good.

The value I place on good, not what makes my whatever I have enough; but, the resting acceptance and contentment of what is mine.

This life of mine.

We parked under an old oak this afternoon, a homeless woman and I. No family to visit on Christmas weekend and choosing to be alone, she’d decided to stay with people she knew in an emergency shelter.

So, we spent an hour or so together, waiting for the time the shelter allowed the homeless back in. I offered again, “come to my house.” Again, she declined.

I understood, told her so, better to be in a place you already know than a new place that makes more clear your lack.

For ten minutes or so we waited under the big tree for the shelter to allow her in.

“The leaves are pretty on that tree.” she said.

They were.

Bright yellow leaves on the low branches, the high branches bare from Autumn winds and tall limbs reaching up towards the sky.

I went inside the shelter with her, hugged and said Merry Christmas to her and the women working the weekend.

I thought of her as I drove home.

Straightened my house, unloaded heavy bags of food and started making plans for dinner.

The house warm and the guest room now empty, I plumped up the pillows and admired my little thrown together decor I’d created for my son’s girlfriend’s visit.

Remembering how I’d decided, a sprig of greenery circling a little bird dish and three tiny Christmas ornaments to rest in it’s hollow space, it was just enough.

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Enough, pretty and simple, softly shining colors.

Colors, soft like grace.

Grace enough.

The gift of enough.

Grace upon grace…from His fullness,

I have received. John 1:16

Thinking of Now

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

I’m writing for five minutes with thoughts on “Now”.

Linking up with Kate Motaung on this chilly Friday morning in South Carolina.

I’m driving five hours or so today. My companion and I will talk, some of it will be nervous chatter, filling up awkward empty spots. Some of it will be weather, season or world.

Some of our conversation might be about our children or maybe even our shoes. I woke, refreshed and said “Thank you, Lord, for I slept without tossing.”

Today Now

I prayed, “Help me to see my opportunities to help today, to speak the things I know.”

I heard a sweet lady yesterday tell me of her husband’s abusive childhood. He’s a kind and distinguished man, I was not alarmed; but, surprised.

She says he carries it with him. It’s a blessing and a curse, she said.

More curse, but, the blessing is he’s kind to others because of it.

“Yes” I said.

I drive today to help a woman who felt she deserved nothing. I will not speak for her. I doubt I’ll be allowed.

I will speak to her if opportunity presents. Ill tell her that moving forward is scary, that looking back and living in the place another placed you is more comfortable, makes more sense and lessens the fear.

Ill tell her maybe about Esther…The one who stood with grace and spoke for life.

I’ll tell her maybe this is her time.

Ill think, maybe it’s mine.

And who knows whether maybe you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this? Esther 4:14

Day 11 – grace, regardless

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

Day 11, Advent
Uphold me in your promise that I may live and let me not be put to shame in my hope! Psalm 119:116

How we feel about God, about His part in our plans and how we give him a role in our lives, our faith, dependence, trust…our unwavering acceptance of his unwavering grace is the image and message we convey.

It can’t be hidden, won’t be hidden. With God, there’s no masking, no faking, no playing of holy part. Our lives are not scenes from a grand play for which we’ve auditioned and are chosen to be the star follower or the longing reject hoping to be picked to follow Jesus.

There’s no need for acting. There’s no need for striving to maintain appearance of never being afraid or feeling condemned, yet again because of negative conversations with self.

If we try to cover our doubts about grace in the day to day, how will we ever convey God’s saving grace to the doubters of us and of life and love, all around us and in our lives?

We end up exhausted from the farce of it all…going through life only sporadically believing in grace.
Grace is daily.
It is our bread, our sustenance.

It’s what we know we lack and circle back to remember.
The very same grace we accepted as ours when we surrendered our wandering, questioning hearts and believed is the grace that is ours every second of the day.

So, I let my insecurities show and some might be repelled by my lack of discretion, of not covering up. By the grace of God and my discernment of right people, they show less day by day.

In time one of two things surely happens:
It will, my insecurity, show more or struggle to stay hidden. Insecurity is relevant and relatable. It is beautiful for us to be brave enough to be less than strong enough or as we might be expected to be.

The more we remember grace, the less glaringly we’ll obstruct its beauty by the wearing of our masks of can’t be known.

Heather said she’s ready for the leaves to all fall away, the trees should be wintry now, it’s Christmas.

I agree. There’s beauty in barren. There’s beauty in exposed and clinging to what means life.

Can a winter branch shield itself from cold, wet and harsh season?

I think not, still it’s a beautiful thing to see resting in the strength of roots and even more clearly visible unadorned with leaf against wide blue sky.
#graceupongrace #quietconfidence #birthofjesusday

Desires of Heart

Children, courage, grace, Motherhood, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Satisfied

Sketches in the margins of my Bible moved onto canvas with thick, layered color, white flowing fabric from empire waists.

The head may tilt or the arms rest, tucked with fingers laced and resting in small of back.

Waiting and satisfied.

Content in the waiting.

I’d always hoped to be an artist.

I’d always hoped I might capture emotion on canvas. I’m selling art and longing to know the place my angels call home.

I have a new favorite, this one with humble and patient expression, hair bobbed with bangs…this one, looking towards the place where faith waits, sure of hope in time.

I pray Lord, and I thank you that I’m satisfied with me, finally.

I pray, Lord for the two desires you know tonight,the ones I prayed when I prayed, believing… the weighty desires of my heart.

They matter much, the desires of my quiet heart.

Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give the desires of your heart. Psalm 37:4

Not Common – Five minute Friday prompt

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

Maybe it’s age I thought, except it doesn’t feel like an aged thing to do. I look towards the sky, treetops, moon and sun. I pause in the connection that feels more like settled than sage.

Closer to God, closer to them. I see my father in the tallest of narrow pines, the moon resting there, unpretentious.

If I told you a story of my father, I might have described him as common. I may have told of remembering his scarcity of conversation. I may have told you about his best friend Thomas who looked after my mama after he died.

I may have told you of his intolerance towards the pompous or arrogant or his consistently trying to be more than life and hardship had equipped him to be.

I may even have told you about his love hate relationship with drink, loving the way it numbed his past, hating its angry hold.

Most likely, though I’d tell you he was handsome, neat as a pin and wisely quiet and refined. When he smiled, it was true.

I might tell you that I never saw him read his Bible, nor did I hear him pray out loud. I believe he did.

I believe he believed and he prayed the way he lived, like Paul urged, quiet and not for noticing.

¹¹and 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…I Thessalonians 4:11

Uncommonly quiet and simply uncommon…

We have that in common, I pray.

http://katemotaung.com/2016/11/10/five-minute-friday-common-a-giveaway/

Grace and Tender Places

courage, Faith, grace, rest, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

It happened again this week. Crazy, sort of thing, this place and time that a thought comes and becomes more.

The same tree-lined block just before I make the left turn towards work, a thought so clear, a revelation really, it happened and I’ve stored it up as truth.

This time, as powerful as the time before when God gave name to his plan for me, called it “treasure”.

I’ve not let that go.

Won’t.

But, on a morning that caught me off guard by its bitter tone, I hear again; God in response to my heart’s soft question.

Are some days more tender?

Are there moments, mornings and whole stretches of being that the heart’s wide open with raw remembering calling to be healed?

Or do we allow unaware, the covers thrown back, inviting bravely the attention needed to be well?

Yes, Lisa there are, healing is a process. Move through it, you are healing.

Learning.

Not like falling back into deep pit of pity, it’s quite beautiful, really.

No need to cause alarm or wondering “Oh, are they okay?”

The hardest lessons are the ones we must accept about ourselves and our flaws.

They’re revealed in the hurts of our histories or then eased into acceptance of mislaid plan or controlling lives of outcome gone off in different directions, not always bad ones…

Just ones we didn’t design.

We make boldly confident declarations about what we’d not do, let happen or ever have come and take up space in our homes, in our hearts.

Happenings, mishaps and missteps make you live out your cliche of “but for the grace of God I go there” when, oh Lord…you realize you are there.

Oh, the humbling reality of proud, mislaid lives.

You went there and now you’re on the cusp of beautiful other side…

Until, again somehow

tender places in my heart, like skin rubbed off my baby toe because I wore the fancy shoes, the rawness reopened to be healed.

Oh, I remember now, it was me who opened it up again…one exchange of truthful word.

I remember now the cause of tender sting.

I spoke up for another when the question was posed, “How does a smart woman like her stay in that abuse?

I answered with an answer I believe some never knew me by…

“Seven years, mind control, isolation and thrown against a wall more times than I can remember. God is good though, he kept me here for a beautiful purpose I don’t yet fully know. Hard to comprehend unless you’ve been abused.” Me

So, some days, the heart’s more tender, the wound more open and the realization of vulnerable more palpable.

Open, truthful and gracefully well.

”Tis grace that taught my heart to fear and grace my fears relieved.” Amazing Grace

Blank Page Prayer

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

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Eleven or so lines, gray soft graphite point from crystal colored pink pencil, that was all today.

I woke and scribbled self-talk truer than most days, a carry over from evening thoughts quiet in theme.

Evening walk ending with letting Colt walk towards sunset unleashed. I waited, prolonging our walk as he meandered in high grass turning brown against brilliant edged sky.

Pencil to page:

10/25/16

I thank you Lord, for things you remind me to pursue and for those you help me let go and let be.

For, it is then that that the sweetest answers come.

In reply, a surprising confirmation and unexpected love words.

Remind me Lord, to acknowledge my imperfections in a way quite okay and then accept my vulnerable as well as fallible me.

It is then I let go of the swiftly flooding rapids of doubt.

Head up in confidence, facing warm sun and one hand open in trust, my heart more aligned with God, I move with rhythm of life’s stream.

Seeing clearly and seen clearly.

Shine lightly and softly, girl, shine.

Let it shine, shine, shine.

Your heart.

….with the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit

I Peter 3:4

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee as she shares the beauty of brokenness.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/taking-broken-way-way-real-wholeness/

Who I Am, Alone

Faith, family, grace, praise, Prayer, rest, Salvation, Trust, Uncategorized

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Who I am, alone, the one who believes.

Perhaps, I thought…strongly perhaps, the thing we who believe should do is to believe more assuredly, more unwaveringly and more amenable to others maybe curious.

Perhaps, our beliefs unchangeable should display such a peace that others might come close enough to wonder why we’ve not budged, why we’re unphased by harsh and horrible accusation, rant or interpretation.

Not an expert in doctrine, not necessary, just simply a consistent thinker of thought, believer of my beliefs and faithfulness in my faith.

Who I am when alone, the most valid measure of my faith I’ve decided.

The morning after a wedding celebration, I drove home alone with a Sunday morning mix of quiet and jubilant on a road I’d never traveled.

It was phenomenal.

fullsizerender-21_kindlephoto-20427290 Scanning static and station,I settled on Southern gospel praise with a boom boom rhythm about “Not lettin’ the devil steal my peace.. not my joy… not my soul…no, no, no…I’m not gonna let him take my peace!”

My shoulders falling in a lean one side to the other and my free hand pumping with a confident keepin’ time.

My soul free and easy, my thoughts open and thankful.

Then quiet, just moving through blue sky country towards home and noticing everything; I thought of stopping to see for longer,

A church on a grassy hill, a tree lined stretch of glorious shade and a cotton field gazed upon through open window.

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This morning, I’m back to early morning with Bible in my lap.

I read from Jeremiah; then a Psalm followed by two chapters in Romans.

Providence in word from Old and New.

The place of promise is revealed through faith.

It depends on faith and rests on grace. Romans 4:16

A return to the place my soul bare and at rest in simple yet astounding grace.

Because of faith.

In the quiet of morning and alone, I understood more than before.

I believe it shows.

My faith unmoved with noise of our day.

So unmoved and undaunted, perhaps inviting question.

It Will Lift

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

Seek the Lord and his strength. Seek his presence continually. Psalm 105:4

She called me her sister, although we’re cousins.

She told me it’s all “about to lift”,

These burdens I been totin’.

I believe her.

Because she’s wise and she’s faithful and faith-filled and has carried some pretty big loads of questions, doubt, and questioning of not good enough, done enough, been enough

herself.

I’ll be looking for you Jesus. I’ll keep my hand uplifted in trust.

I’ll maybe not notice right away; but, I’ll sense it and my heart will sing.

A slight smile will rest on my face and the blue of my eyes will shine again.

As my shoulders sigh with relief, oh yes…

It has lifted.

	Lisa Brittain on Women of Faith
	Lisa Anne Tindal on Women of Faith
	smoker4mom on Women of Faith
	juliedibblewrites on Embracing
	Lisa Anne Tindal on Shine On