rest

The clearing

courage, Faith, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, wonder
Hope and Believing

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

Blessed – a faithful promise

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

 

Believing God

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

 

 

Peace – a quiet outpouring

Children, Faith, family, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability
He is our peace.

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.

Waiting Expectantly

courage, Faith, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

 

Expecting Jesus

Expecting Jesus

 

I have a friend who reminds me constantly of the promises of God.  She is firm in her belief and doesn’t tire of my being doubtful or anxious whining in the “waiting to see” period. Even the tone in her voice is laid back, no worries as she says, “Trust the process.”

 

“Well, Lisa” she says, “you know it’s God’s plan, not ours.”

She always calls back and even calls to say “Something told me you needed to talk.”

 

Her advice and encouragement,  consistent and unwavering.

Has she seen something, peeked through a crack in God’s door, discovering what I can’t see?

 

In the Book of Luke,  Mary is young, afraid and dismayed over being the chosen one of God to give birth to our Lord and Savior.

 

Mary, perplexed inquires of the angel,  “How will this be since I am a virgin?” 

The angel reminds Mary of the power of the Holy Spirit and tells her of the miracle of the long-barren Elizabeth being with child.

 

Surely, this revelation would confirm for Mary that nothing is impossible with God. Mary then answers, “I am the Lord’s servant, May it be as you have said.”  

 

Humble and obedient, yet still, I believe, a little uncertain.

 

She leaves and hurries to Elizabeth’s home.
For reassurance, a listening ear, an embrace of acceptance.  A place of love, of one who does not tire of questions,  doubts,  despair, insecurities and beliefs of not being able

At the sound of Mary’s voice, the unborn child, John the Baptist “leaps in Elizabeth’s womb”.

 I picture Elizabeth, overcome with joyous emotion, excited and happy to tell Mary how blessed she is among women, speaking clearly her confident assurance to Mary.

 

“Blessed is she who has believed what the Lord has said will be accomplished!”  Luke 1:45

Mary, then believing God’s plan,  sings her song of glorious rejoicing in God, her Savior and then, uplifted and confident, leaves Elizabeth’s house, convinced of the goodness of God.

She is expecting Jesus.

Do you have an Elizabeth in your life?  A friend who reminds steadfastly of the goodness of God, of his timing, his process?

 

A friend who is certain of God’s plan?

 

A friend like Elizabeth who removed all doubt from Mary as she wondered if God chose her by mistake, saying as my friend often reminds, “God doesn’t make mistakes.” ?

Wait expectantly for Jesus. For His revealing, His time, His good.

 


Mommy not Mama

Children, family, Motherhood, rest, Teaching, Vulnerability

2014-12-03 14.17.31

Last night, my daughter was exhausted and cold.

Wrapped tightly in a quilt and settled in on the couch, she asked me to wake her before going to bed.

“Okay” I said, thinking  “It’s really late.”

She needed to finish something so it was important I wake her up, she said.

The “something” I discovered was two loads of laundry…her 4K students’ covers for nap time.

Princess covers, gingham checks, Batman, Tranformers and fluffy, daisy colors

 There had been a “bug” going around, she said.  “My babies need clean covers.”

I let her sleep while I folded.

Warm and sweet-smelling from the dryer, then with  sentimental bittersweetness, took my time stacking fleecy fabric into the container next to her door for early morning ease.

I lightly roused her from sleep. Told her, “Good night, I love you.”

Then I fell asleep, thinking “There’s no better feeling than waking a sleeping child and being met by a tender smile and wobbly legs finding their way towards bed.”

That’s Mommy, not mama.

Mommy moments like this have no expiration date or age limit…timeless love.

Jesus, help me

courage, Faith, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized
Matthew 11:28

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.

patient, yet eager

Children, courage, Faith, rest, Trust, Vulnerability
Waiting

Waiting

I have been praying.

Lately, I have been praying hard.

Praying that good will come.

Good ones I love, good to come their way.

That a rough patch will be made smooth.

That anxiety and fear will be just useless worry

That a time of weariness will lead to rest or to a change.

Or just strength to continue

That my words, my prayers, my tiny little notes of scripture or “love you, don’t forget” will stick like oatmeal to ribs on my grown up children

That my love for my children will be a powerful foundation, strong and constant

I am waiting, because prayers spoken and unspoken have tuned my Lord’s ear.

Clear, always clear as a bell on a quiet night

He implores,  “Wait patiently, yet eagerly and expectantly my child, your face tilted upwards, anticipating.”

Eager for blessings, for good.

God is good. Has good for us, no doubt.

moving mountains

courage, Faith, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder
Waiting to see

Waiting to see

There’s an image in my mind.

I’m standing, alone and facing a mountain.

Nothing but trees, overgrowth, and wildly growing bits and pieces of brush.  Limbs, broken and resting in varying degrees of decay.

I stand, perplexed by the mountain.

My feet find level ground and planted still and resolute, I focus on the mountain. I am waiting to see.

Concerns and unanswered prayers linger.

Days interrupt with distractions but are filled with ritual;  yet, sometimes spontaneity.

But, then a thought, a nudge reminds…there’s still this  looming concern, this heart-tugging issue, this still mysterious waiting to be “done and stronger for it” nagging unknown.

Diversions are good, like standing in an open field and turning to notice a bird, happy to witness its flight.

Or deciding to rest, so lying down and mesmerized, getting lost in the bright blue and feathery white fluff of the wide expanse of sky.

Or deciding to walk down a path leveled by another’s feet

To feel compelled, excited to venture…to digress for a bit

To allow a break from the discipline of waiting.

Then suddenly reminded, like the turn of the head or the glance over the shoulder… the mountain, you remember the waiting, the unknown.

Still there, still overwhelming

Obscuring your view, reminding you of the enormity of it and the uselessness of your abilities.

Nothing good comes by force, you remember.

Nothing to do but wait

So, I wait. Heels dug in, feet level, balanced, eyes focused. Heart surrendered.

I wait, because I know the immovable can only be moved by God.

I pray. I do not lose hope.

Mountains can be moved.

Surrendered and expectant to see the clearing,   good, the better, the best. 

The mountain before you will become a plain. Grace, grace. It is God’s grace.  Zechariah 4:7

begin again

courage, Faith, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability
Pennies and love

Pennies and love

When I glance down and see a penny, I bend, hold it tightly, thumb and index finger sort of focused on the texture, the gift of finding it.

Finding pennies changes the course of my day.

I regroup, feel a glimpse of angels, a nod of affirmation…

Keep trying, stay faithful.

God is good, has good for me.

His love is unending.

We wander, drift, forget or forego our faith

He waits.

He brings to light our void

Causes us to long,  gently, sometimes firmly calls us back, takes sin blinders and masks of selfish intentions from our eyes.

We find our way back.

Our heart, again beats for Him and we shine brightly, resting in His embrace.

His patient embrace.

We begin again, noticing pennies on our path and a longing to be held by a God who never lets go and believes in unending new beginnings.

His unfailing love, high as the heavens…and he removes our rebellion as far as the east from the west. Psalm 103:11-12