Balloons, Anchors, Hope and Faith

courage, Faith, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, wonder

Walking outside with dogs, hoping for a glimpse of tangerine sunrise and I’m happy to turn back, look up and get crescent moon instead. It’s my favorite moon.

Makes me hopeful for things happening in places I can’t see yet.

Makes me believe, stay faithful.

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for.

Hebrews 11:1

Inspires me not to give up.

Like faith, believing the things I see now.

Things that caught me by surprise.

Hoping for the fullness not seen yet.

Holding onto hope like thumb and index squeezing pretty ribbons trailing balloons.

You may have heard the verse. It’s become the trendy quote, the go-to for hope. The definition of hope, an anchor for your soul.

We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. Hebrews 6:19

There’s strength in this verse. The idea of being firmly secure, able to drift only just so far…our souls in a place of safety, anchored, sure to stay put. That’s a good feeling; but, hope’s something more to me.

Something a little lighter, a little brighter, even whimsical.

Like pretty balloons gathered together for celebration.

Imagine if we all went through our days balloons tied to our wrists or held gingerly as we stopped to acknowledge a friend.

Think of your day, appointments handled, issues resolved, periwinkle colored balloon hovering above your desk.

What joy it would be to turn upon waking and see it there, tied to nightstand drawer pull, moving ever so slightly as you begin your day.

Most of all think of the countenance upon our faces as we paused, intermittently to look towards balloon.

Well, that for me is hope.

It’s looking up towards heaven reminded that hope’s still there.

It’s the crescent moon, crisp and bright against morning sky.

It’s expecting sullen sky and turning back towards home to see pearly white clouds filtering light.

It’s being reminded of what we’ve held in our hand all along.

Hope and faith, balloons and anchors

Linking up with others who Tell His Story

Seeking, Walking, Seeing

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

I can certainly see why people may find faith, trust and surrender to God as futile activities. All require the giving up of control, of engagement in outcome and of the opportunity to collaborate outcomes for our own lives.

Still, I begin my day with God. Some days, though, I’m only midway through and have forgotten the strength of my time.

I falter, seeking again to see things unclear. Just a few minutes every morning, storing up reserves of wisdom, most likely needed for recall by noon. Some days I’m more disciplined, more connected. Some not.

A day can change directions in an instant when doubt, fear, and insecurities take the wheel.

I’ve begun to read through the Bible this year. I’m up to Chapter 6 of Genesis. Already, I’m understanding Eve and her choice to eat from the forbidden tree in a new way. I can empathize with Eve, the one responsible for changing the plans of God

What a frighteningly honest admission.

The one who caused our viscious cycle of honoring God only to question God. The first of us, responsible for all of man, of woman, incapable of resting in the place of not knowing, the place of trust.

Eve was tricked, she rationalized her behavior…how can it be wrong for me to know good from evil, to know what is to come? The words of the serpent made sense. Sometimes make sense to me.

For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” Genesis 3:5

Today started strong for me as far as my faith. An engaging lesson, a beautiful song and my pastor’s convicting message.

After lunch though, my mind drifted, couldn’t find rest. I wondered about this, doubted that.

Moving through afternoon with nothing more than mindless chores towards evening, I decided at dusk to walk.

Reluctantly moving my thoughts, my feet, my mood, seeking God nevertheless. My walks are seeking walks. Whether I intend them to be or not.

The sky was blue this evening. Not blue like ocean, bright tiles or happy eyes on freckled face child. The blue was of winter on a Sunday marking the end of the day on the cusp of hopeful next.

I turned to see the sunset from various spots on my path. And it happened. I paused in God’s nearness.

Then walked on towards home, towards the unknowns of tomorrow.

Its good and its evil, perhaps.

My life in God’s hands.

Content in the reminding.

O’ Lord, in the morning you hear my voice… Psalm 5:3

Our King Has Come – Walk in Confidence

Faith, grace, praise, rest, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder

I laid the Advent Card representing today, beside my journal.

From darkest of darkness came light

My intent to ponder its visual as I’d done with the others.

The day got away from me and I waited for the rain to offer a half hour or so.

I wanted to walk.

I walked, noticing grey skies and vacant landscape. The sky, foreboding, the wind stronger when I turned back towards home.

But, it was okay. I walked on, my steps confident.

Raindrops blowing around me, landing sharply on my face like tiny pin pricks.

Still, I walked on, a confident, good and strong walk.

Trees, dark and severe against the stormy sky. Bare, curly limbs curled, like tight fists clenched.

The air was thick and the clouds began to meld into a more solidly thick darkness.

Still, I walked on.

Noticed barren limbs again on path.

Reminding me of crown made of thorns. Of a dark foreboding day before symbolic and surprisingly new life, His resurrection, mine.

Closer to home, I stopped to look for my companion.

A hawk. First noticed as I turned toward walking path from driveway.

Large bird, solitary and intermittent in showing itself, in unison it seemed.

I walked on, turning to look towards sky.

Back home, greeted by dogs, I look up and see again.

Circling above, still.

Led me home, joined me there, made sure I’m good.

And I think of what I can’t discern, bigger than me, greater than I can figure and I realize there’s no need. His way is not our way

Making sure I’m okay, leading me home

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, the night marked by the birth of a King, our Savior.

A King without a throne.

whose only crown was twisted, mainly limbs of brittle thorn.

A King sired by Holy Spirit. God the Father, to save our souls.

Merry Christmas. Advent has led us here.

Following your Star, Unwrapping your Gift

Children, courage, family, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, wonder

Advent Thoughts

On today, the day before the eve of Christmas Eve, I started with a note from my daughter, reminding me of Christmas coming…”feel better” it said and so I committed to feel better.

And I did. Some little things happened to help in the betterment of day. Gifts were wrapped, special notes written and gifts received.

Beautifully gifted day

I prayed twice and then read about the star that was followed by the wise men.

Thought of them differently, not of bearded ancient figures with long flowing robes walking through the desert gazing upward.

I thought of them as wise people, intelligent, wise men.

It occurred to me then that the star must have been so spectacularly compelling they couldn’t imagine not seeking to know more.

Couldn’t imagine turning back, abandoning their souls’ fulfillment.

Wise men, yet still seeking to know more, to experience fullness as their feet followed, guided by brilliant star.

So, I jotted quickly, so as not to forget the thought.

Hesitant to record my thoughts because they felt strong like epiphany.

To write in my journal might lessen the power of my thoughts.

But, I wrote a note to self:

“What’s your star? Where is the place God has for you? What gifts in store? What is the work God would have you achieve, knows you’re both capable of and long for?

If my feet followed my heart led by Jesus, knowing spectacular like a bright star awaits, I wonder where I’d be.

What gifts are waiting for my unwrapping?

Is it writing?

Painting?

Maybe the joy of leading by example, so that others move towards their calling, their joyous star.

Continue reading →

Day 23, a Need to Rest

rest, Vulnerability

I’m prone to crashing not the day just after being overwhelmed.

But, more so after the two or three days.

It all catches up and slows me down real slow.

Depleted at the end of the day with only minimum words and no answers for the question, “What’s wrong?”

“Just tired.” I say.

Because it’s hard to explain my fatigue has caught up with me.

With my emotions too.

The body gets tired, the heart’s always close behind.

The Advent card, today’s image reminded me of repetitious days.

Of sameness and habitual motions.

Of showing up, being more, doing more and marking another day done. Pencil marks counting another task finished, not much more than finished.

Day 23, two days away from Christmas Eve

The image reminding of 23rd Psalm.

A timely reminder, I need to rest.

Psalm 23
A psalm of David.

The Lord is my shepherd;
I have all that I need.
He lets me rest in green meadows;
he leads me beside peaceful streams.
He renews my strength.
He guides me along right paths,
bringing honor to his name.
Even when I walk
through the darkest valley,[a]
I will not be afraid,
for you are close beside me.
Your rod and your staff
protect and comfort me.
You prepare a feast for me
in the presence of my enemies.
You honor me by anointing my head with oil.
My cup overflows with blessings.
Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me
all the days of my life,
and I will live in the house of the Lord
forever.

Yesterday and Today

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

Yesterday started with daylight only sparsely present. I walked outside and noticed the clouds shifting in a swooping motion.

It was supposed to be more chilly, I thought. My daughter said, “It hasn’t moved through yet. It’s coming.”

And it did, we had dinner after shopping later, the wind cold and the sky filling with stars above a fuzzy peace sunset.

I remembered earlier in the day, I had sat aside the Advent Card for Day 20, noticing the image so much like stars, clouds, waiting for change.

Little triangle shapes like Christmas trees planted for next year’s home.

little trees growing

Thinking of how nervous and anxious I was on Thursday for what I’d be doing Friday, speaking in front a large group, cameras, prominent people…but I was okay, it was okay.

Yesterday was good. Good and unexpected things made me smile. There was some bad, some annoying and out of nowhere mean, sharp words.

A good day, but a long one.

Yesterday becoming today.

Yesterday was good. Today will be too.

We’re closer to Christmas, closer to Christ.

Come thou long expected Jesus.

But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.

She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”

Matthew 1:20-21

Angel moon and stars

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

The moon tonight had an angelic halo type haze circled around.

Many years ago, we’d made it back home from my mama’s funeral and had collapsed back into the house.

Worn, weary and drained.

Grief has a way of doing that.

You go through the motions of the ceremonial last gathering and when you’re done…you’re really done and emptied of most everything.

But, on that night almost six years ago, my nephew called.

Told us all, “Go outside, look at the moon…grandma Bette is looking down.”

And we did, my daughter and I, walked out into the cold January night and turned towards heaven to see the moon.

To stay there in that place, moonlit bright, shiny and fuzzy with glow as we felt mama, Grandma Bette looking down.

Tonight, the moon looked the same and I paused, not sorrowful or longing for backward steps; instead moving on as I drove.

Secure in the presence of moon, of mama.

Weaving on roads with few other people out, a cool night, stars all around and a crescent moon with a soft glow.

Making my way back home to son, daughter, husband and dogs…the glow of Christmas to greet me, the colors of Jesus filling the rooms.

I thought of the stars again, imagining how brightly they must have shone on the night our Savior was born, unobstructed by city light, by busy life.

I thought of shepherds following one star.

I wondered if they were convinced or unsure.

Doubted whether to continue on…following a star.

I wondered if their only hope was hope enough, to glance upward to stay on course, continuing on because of the one they were seeking.

The long expected one to guide us when star shine faded.

… they went on their way, and the star they had seen when it rose went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was.

When they saw the star, they were overjoyed.

Matthew 2:9-10

Overjoyed by where the star led them.

Like me, maybe my nephew, my daughter, nieces, brothers and sister. We look towards the moon that leads us to remember, its aura, like an angel with halo.

We pause to lift our faces towards heaven.

Drawing Lines and Looking for Mercy

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

On a Saturday morning with sunlight making designs on the furniture, I study today’s Advent card.

Six sketches, reminding of Christmas trees, but one different from the others. One more starkly covered, filled in with thick black marking.

There’s a story in the Book of John of a woman known for her sin.

Her indiscretions brought to light by accusers circled around in the sand at their feet, waiting for…demanding punishment with stone.

Accusers who retreated when handed their rocks to be thrown only if they’d never sinned themselves.

They wandered off one by one, their self-righteousness in check.

Then Jesus gently affirmed her sin, by saying ” Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.” John 8:11

Thank you God, for the glorious gift of your Son, my Savior. Thank you for the unfathomable reach of His grace and his mercy. Thank you God, most of all that yours is not a condemning acknowledgement of our failures, rather a gentle beckon…come or come back to me. Let’s walk together again. Go and sin no more.

We look for your mercy.

Amen

Everyday Delight

Faith, family, grace, praise, rest, Uncategorized

There’s a place I begin each day.

It’s quite heavenly for me.

A delightful time allowed myself, a commitment.

Not rushing forward to join the day.

Just making a point to hold my thin little book and pen

and to write a few or many words. It differs day to day.

Sitting, feet tucked under to read words of wisdom, to add with fluid black ink marking thick ivory page.

Recording words that resonate and then to go on about my day.

Allowing them to catch up with me later, my favorite part.

This is my happy way of life, this little snippet of each day.

It’s sort of like little mental post-it notes, pretty pastels tucked here or there, saying “This is why you needed this verse.” .

If I write, I remember.

Just when I need it.

It’s delightful like today’s image for Advent, Day 10. The most beautiful of happy colors, like square-shaped sticky notes, reminding me of the sweetness of a life God desires for me.

Things that delight my heart are the things the Lord the desires for me:

My children smiling, my home at peace, a solace in storm and a welcoming return for friends and family;

Good health for ones I love and the gift of knowing Jesus for all I meet.

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

All the Tiny Pieces

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

It’s not at all easy for me to fathom

That looking down on us God sees us, each of us separate and unique.

But, I do.

Believe the unseen, believe I am seen.

And because of seeing all things I can see.

I walked on Saturday, through the crinkled up brown leaves strewn over the path.

I turned the corner to see even more bordered with cushions of rich green moss peeking through.

Layers and layers of same but different fallen leaves.

I continued on and stopped to notice the breeze as it rustled leaves, still clinging to branches, the wind cupping their edges to curve up, touching the sky.

Each tiny leaf, a creation of God and each one different.

It’s quite remarkable really, to be known by God.

To be more than a tiny piece in an enormous collection of pieces, indistinguishable from the one beside.

We’re more to God than that. We’re each unique, His plans for us waiting to be understood in full.

Few of us ever know fully, I’m afraid.

Few truly live so closely to His Sovereign will that it’s possible to see all He has for us.

It’s sufficient though to God each moment we spend seeking.

Thoughtful moments with leaves underfoot and breeze making music in the trees.

Sufficient because his grace is, sufficient.

The image that marks today’s Advent reminded me of dust and blackbirds.

It’s not at all easy for me to fathom that God sees more than specks of dust when he leans down to

listen

to see

That he hears my prayers, unspoken or not.

knows my thoughts

Sees my doubts, my dissapointments, my dilemmas.

To know that I am worth more

Than many sparrows.

But, I do believe he sees me.

No need to be afraid.

	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