Stillness

31 days of good things

aging, Art, bravery, courage, doubt, Faith, hope, kindness, memoir, patience, Prayer, Redemption, Stillness, Trust, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder, writing

Day 26 – Early Morning Acceptance

Before bed, I read a verse about being cared for. I read that the shepherd takes care of his sheep overnight. Sheep don’t have to worry about being fed, of waking rested and ready.

I woke too early on an “off” and open day. The moment I sat with coffee, a thought came.

I’ll share it here as the “good thing” today.

Morning Thoughts

“What are you building and why when I’ve already established your dwelling place?”

I wrote underneath 10/26/23 and my children’s names in a thick circle, is this question.

I pause to consider why, I question the significance of “dwelling” and I imagine eye rolls and even laughter over the “depth of me”.

The more I thought of this question God gave me, I compared this world we live in, these lives we lead of striving and comparing ourselves just to stay “caught up”.

We don’t have to build ourselves up.

We may topple under the weight of the hurried addition to our first or second floor. We neglect the foundation and we envision mansions that represent our lives, when we’d be better as a quaint little three bedroom with a porch.

After all the building for appearance and to comfort ourselves in being enough, we just might find we don’t want to live here anymore, it’s just too much.

And that’s good

That’s a kindness of God to be shown that you are enough, more than and that although you feel worn thin and the structure of the dwelling of you is feeble and tired, there’s still a little corner that’s waiting for you to find yourself acknowledging the exhaustion.

You matter.

The condition of your body and soul, the place where God dwells even when we can’t find Him in the clutter.

Surprisingly, that’s a sweet place, the most beautiful place you’ve known all along.

Maybe, its name is acceptance.

I think so.

God gave me this today. He wants us both to know. We are enough in our dwelling with Him, we don’t have to wear ourselves out in building, renovating or leveling ourselves in destructive manners because we don’t think our “dwelling” measures up.

God has more than we can fathom in the place of us He long ago established.

“I will give you hidden treasures, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the Lord, the God of Israel, who summons you by name.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭45‬:‭3‬ ‭NIV‬‬

You are loved.

Continue and believe.

31 days of good things

Abuse Survivor, aging, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, family, grandchildren, memoir, patience, Redemption, Stillness, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom, wonder

Day 24 – Bravery

Last night, I responded to a question,

Can you explain what you meant by that?

A sentence in my post about “Listening” that was all jumbled up sounding like wisdom but really only just a pretty forming of a sentence.

I answered her.

After rereading the blog post over again.

I’m not sure what I meant…

some sort of metaphor about editing a painting and redeeming the mess(es) you make because you rushed ahead or you were led to doubt because of comparison.

Maybe redemption over our mistakes as well as our challenges comes when we are brave in our approach to life in general.

Acknowledgement of God

When I scurry out to my daughter’s porch to see the morning, I say “Let’s tell God, Good Morning!”

The grandchildren listen, go along, unbeknownst to them, a seed (even if silly in memory) will pop up for them on occasion, maybe as adults, maybe today.

Today, I woke up and thought of bravery, a good thing.

This old dictionary I like says bravery is “the quality of being brave; fearlessness…magnificence.”

Magnificence seemed odd.

I flipped to the “M’s” to see that magnificence is another word for splendor.

Bravery, less than and at the same time so much more than a jaw-clenching choice, a splendid way of living, an opportunity to really believe this life you’re living,

have been given is splendid.

Bravery is accepting slow progress as better than rushing an outcome based on others around you. To be brave is to decide the acknowledgement you need comes every morning when you open your eyes to find the morning.

Bravery is knowing yourself, body and soul, good and not so great and choosing what helps you maintain it over what threatens to wear it down.

Saying no to that second glass of red wine, so pretty in the settling down evening place, end of the day.

Bravery is not having the chocolate pudding topped with salty pecans in your daughter’s pantry…adding crumbled cookies atop a peak of whipped cream.

Bravery is knowing that this innocent indulgence felt like rebellion and subtle self-destruction and that it may not feel the same for others; but, for you it was something other than a treat.

Bravery is attentiveness to the nudge from God’s Spirit inside you that says

“You’re getting too close to the edge, be careful, be still…don’t go on without me.”

Bravery is conversations with others in which you speak your peace and truth, not turn your cheek, close your mouth with just a timid nod, “It’s okay.”

Bravery is delaying good for better.

Bravery is expressing a tender observation to someone you love, knowing they need to hear it. Most often, I’m learning, this is to the adults I cherish, my children.

Bravery is saying,

“I love you.”

And bravery is believing in God, the Creator who chose to give up His Son, Jesus so that we’d spend eternity in what Eden was supposed to be.

Bravery is asking yourself (and others if you have opportunity)

Why are you afraid to believe?

“God always makes his grace visible in Christ, who includes us as partners of his endless triumph. Through our yielded lives he spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of God everywhere we go.”
‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭2‬:‭14‬ ‭TPT‬‬

Bravery is telling your redemption story, often rambling and more often grammatically errant.

Bravery is keeping on anyway.

Continuing to believe.

To triumph over whatever defines your fear.

31 days of good things

Children, contentment, Faith, grandchildren, hope, memoir, Peace, Stillness, Vulnerability, walking

Day 23 – Beauty By Surprise

In a time when objects catch your eye, welcoming at times and at others, a shockingly unwelcome stealing your gaze, it is good to be captivated by surprise.

The light landing on places, causing leaves to glisten, overgrown weeds or wildflowers to shine.

I thought to write about the goodness of dark chocolate with almonds since my “good” yesterday was a little heavy,

But, today with a baby boy in a stroller, I’ll stick with “beauty by surprise”.

Beauty you can’t stop looking for, beauty you know intersected your day because God saw your secrets, knew you needed to see something beautiful and untainted by humanity.

Baby Henry kicking his little feet and learning early, Grandma stops often, pauses on our walks and stands still with her eyes closed or sometimes just looks long at the sky.

And then, she walks.

A peaceful walk, a beautiful way.

31 days of good things

Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, creativity, Faith, hope, kindness, mixed media painting, painting, patience, Peace, Redemption, Stillness, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder, writing

Day 21 – Listening

It’s helps that it’s catchy, the wise words for remembering.

Listen, Lisa

Works I Love

I stepped lightly to assess where I may have gone wrong, rushed to edit, didn’t leave “well enough for now and maybe always” alone.

Now, I see.

I should’ve listened to that pull, the voice that said.

This is you.

This is good. Let it rest. Let it be.

There’s no need for a rush to redo. There is no expectation for anything other than that you listened.

Listened attentively.

Listened with no plan of action or scheme.

Listened for the opening that never comes like a bursting, more like an invitation.

Listen and learn.

Contribute to the redemption of where your listen wasn’t necessary at all or steered you wrong.

Remembering, you can’t hear the gentle tone of directions spoken if you’re thinking you got it on your own.

Listen and then, welcome your role in the redemption that made a mess and muddied your message.

Always a good one, led by patience and surrender.

“From of old no one has heard or perceived by the ear, no eye has seen a God besides you, who acts for those who wait for him.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭64‬:‭4‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Continue and believe.

Listen for the love.

31 days of good

Abuse Survivor, aging, anxiety, bravery, Children, courage, Faith, hope, memoir, Peace, Redemption, Stillness, Vulnerability, wonder

Day 16 – Hard Things (to me)

I wrote in my journal, “Ask for help.”

“Do hard things.” a long time ago.

What feels hard to you?

Hard to acknowledge, a secret reluctance for you?

It’s hard for me to drive in the dark, mostly the early morning darkness on back roads.

There’s no reason other than me deciding this is hard.

The congested four lane before the interstate, the winding two lane road to the country

Me, traveling out to the wide open space and all the others “goin’ to town” for work.

The headlights that approach, the obnoxious ones, I decide don’t care enough about me to change to dim.

It makes no sense to feel sort of stalked, sort of threatened, sort of unable to be sure of being safe; headlights coming in a way that feels like force always scares me, tells me I’m in danger.

The place that marks the “almost there” this morning beckoned me to glance forward.

A fence with overgrown weeds as borders made the perfect shape of a cross in one section.

My headlights landed there.

I’d never noticed before.

Morning Came

The grey blue sky showing no sign of morning until it suddenly, surprisingly did.

And there I was, safely cradling a baby safely as we stood steady on the porch with lingering love you’s to sister and mama.

And I thought, how sweetly I’ve been guided all my life.

I can do hard things.

I can ask my God for help.

31 days of good

contentment, Faith, hope, memoir, Peace, Stillness, wonder

Day 15 – Morning Quiet

I don’t mind the morning when morning slips in softly through the gauzy fan fluffed sheers.

I mind the mornings that say 3:00 a.m. and not 7 and I don’t particularly like the startle of the alarm.

I like morning that eases in, gives a moment to accept the day’s invitation.

And while I don’t love morning that’s not yet light.

I do love mornings.

And I love my morning thinking quiet spot.

31 days of good things

Children, contentment, family, Motherhood, Redemption, rest, Stillness, Trust, Vulnerability, wisdom

Day 14 – Pasta With My Son

Lunch was at a favorite spot of my son’s. There are many fabulous restaurants in Charlotte.

I thought to have the broiled chicken club salad and told him to order, I needed to go the restroom,

His pause said, “Really, a salad?” so I asked what he’d recommend.

And I chose his recommendation, penne with spicy tomato vodka sauce.

He had lasagna. I had a glass of Cabernet and he chose Pinot Noir.

He insisted I have coffee when I mentioned the carbohydrate “coma” and so I did and we split a slice of cheesecake topped with peaches.

Mama Ricotta’s…go there.

Mama Ricotta’s

Goodness it’s good.

Thanks, son.

Begin to Live

aging, Children, contentment, courage, Faith, family, fear, Holy Spirit, hope, memoir, patience, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, Salvation, Stillness, waiting, wisdom, wonder
God is Near

Mingled in a dream that included family at the beach as well as unfamiliar children asking to play on a trampoline, I am recalling “Psalm 90”.

The Spirit of God interspersed just that in a dream that included my mama being a given a healing prognosis, “Now, you’ll have a chance to really live!”

Maybe it was the beautiful and educational sermon on Sunday on heaven.

“Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever you had formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭90‬:‭2‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Maybe it was the call from “Aunt Boo” my mama’s sister. She talked about crocheting. Maybe I tucked away the visual of her teaching my mama, the memory of their back and to sister chatter.

Who knows? Around 3, I woke and tossed and then recited mentally, over and over, Psalm 23.

Imperfectly still, after all these years of using this chapter to calm me. For some reason, portions and not the entire Psalm linger longer than others and I drift off to sleep.

Note the commentary

All my days have been a meandering sort of trail. A pause to consider, I’ve been in the darkness, I’ve lived in the dread, I’ve found myself off course because of conflict or circumstance.

David knew. He did too.

And so, his words aren’t ones of a perfect follower. Instead, a perfect “returner” to the place where he and God dwell together safely.

I used to believe “all the days of my life” meant the actual dwelling place of Jesus…heaven.

Again, instead…David is acknowledging and giving us permission to acknowledge the beauty we can claim as our own here…

As long as my lungs are providing me with breath and my heart is beating…I am dwelling with God, and He with me.

We are together.

I am known. I am seen.

I am invited to keep returning to rest.

Why Psalm 90 mixed in with a captivating dream of life getting another chance for my mama?

Psalm 90 is one penned by Moses.

It opens with this.

“Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭90‬:‭1‬ ‭ESV‬‬

There were other people in the big bright room with my mama, not just my brothers and sister. My children were there too.

Psalm 90 closes with an acknowledgement of what had not and has not been without affliction. Moses offers us his prayer back then as a promise and prayer we can choose today.

“Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us, and for as many years as we have seen evil. Let your work be shown to your servants, and your glorious power to their children.

Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, establish the work of our hands!”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭90‬:‭15‬-‭17‬ ‭ESV‬‬

“Favor” here meaning “beauty”.

Return to beauty today.

Embrace grace. More than you expected, the grace you’ve been shown.

The grace that you know.

Continue and believe.

Dwell in peace.

“Now you can begin to live”, the words promised to my mama in my dream.

And to us all.

Begin.

Begin again.

Light and Quiet Peace

Abuse Survivor, Angels, bravery, courage, daughters, Faith, family, grandchildren, memoir, patience, Peace, Redemption, Stillness, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder

“Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life…”I Thessalonians 4:7

Peace

A slender gentleman, likely in his 80’s, glanced my way and offered me his spot in the checkout line.

Ninety plus degrees outside and I notice his soft sweatshirt hoodie was all the way zipped and baggy around his crisp but loose khakis.

Hardly a wrinkle in his thin face, I noticed as he smiled sweetly and asked again if I’d like his spot in the long line at Publix on senior citizen day.

He began to talk about kindness and how we need a resurgence of it. He moved on to politicians and I did my best to lead him back to kindness, respectfully agreeing with him that misuse of money or promises of wealth made by politicians isn’t what this country needs.

I believe he said what we need and I drifted in thought because I’m not one to engage in a discussion over the next potential President.

I’m not smart that way nor interested in debate.

Lines moved and he moved forward. I left my cart and went to tell him

“We keep our light and peace so that others get a little light when they’re near us.” LT

He smiled and added, “Seeing you blessed me today.” I replied, “and you for me.”

He paused to talk to another cashier, pushed his groceries past the exit to chat and lingered. I found my car and loaded my bags and turned to head home to see him engaged in another chat with a man gathering buggies.

I hoped they weren’t annoyed, the others like me interrupted by the kindness of this gentle man who spoke softly about life.

Who brought light and peace and just a hint of politics wrapped in age and wisdom.

This morning, I’m remembering a conversation about my father, about the longing for him to have lived longer.

Somehow I know God told the man in Publix to notice me, to take a chance on a grocery store conversation.

To gift my afternoon an encounter of peace.

To send an angel dressed in baggy but crisply ironed khakis, a thin face like my daddy’s and the same hair, only gray.

You are loved. Continue and believe.