The Essence of Days

Abuse Survivor, bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, mercy, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

Forward with Grace

Wouldn’t it be phenomenal to carry around all day…all the day long, 

the little confirmations

epiphanies 

the truths spoken by another

that happen to be gracefully

placed in your lap?

Most especially the ones that ease your mind

lessen the pressing pressure of what next, what now, what if and what if not? 

The ones that make resting and trusting and doing just our small part in this ginormously, great big world more like grace and less like not enough, even drudgery? 

God is for us. God is with us. 

Step easy, Lisa, tell others the same, that 

there are places He is preparing. 

Seemingly insignificant or maybe no step at all; yet, even my planted feet and heart in places I think dull and lowly are privy to the light.

We are not meant to be seen as God’s perfect, bright shining examples, but to be seen as the everyday essence of ordinary life exhibiting the miracle of His grace. 

Wisdom from Oswald Chambers

The seemingly useless steps are taking us to places we’ll be a light, maybe be warmed by the light of another. Then, round the corner and look back, enlightened. 

I believe this. 

I am trusting this as truth. 

I just keep taking the next step knowing there’s no call for standing in the crowd and recounting my failures, there’s no retribution that demands I shrug off the notice of the works of my hands. 

There’s no need to deny or lessen the good by stepping back into my wanderings to tell of the bad. 

There’s grace in the ordinary life I live that just needs to live, knowing it’s all miracle, all of this beautiful stuff every morning. 

All the days long. 

A wise man I read as often as possible shares occasionally, using the phrase “Miracle, All of It” and gracious his words are beautiful and true examples! 

The everyday essence. Bird nests discovered, things coming through, us being children of God, dogs snoring, eyes waking, happenstance meetings to discover “me too”. 

No accidental occurrences. 

Miracles

of grace. 

And us happy all the day because of them. 

This is God’s desire,

I believe. 

The Way

Faith, grace, mercy, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized

My soul waits

 
I suppose I’m gonna have to search and find it.

Maybe spend the afternoon half watching, half drifting in and out. 

Because, I can’t stop my mind from singing the song. 

A pretty little thing, got me thinking in a way down a path of payin’ attention all day 

Must be somethin’ meant for me to see and know. 

“O’ Brother, where Art Thou ” there surely must be more to your funny film. 

More to the story.  More to mine. 

Starting with my Bible now, and from there every little thing, I’ll be focused in an easy way, open to noticing sweet small things, good things, Good Lord. 

Settin’  my mind to know the way. 

Take a listen, Alison, classic and early. 

Good Lord, show me the way!

I’ve sketched a girl, an angel and just below the place my journal rests I notice the bold verse. 

Yes. 

In your word, I hope. 

Driving the Train

Abuse Survivor, bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, grief, marriage, mercy, Motherhood, praise, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized

My “Jesus Calling” devotional just lit a fire down in my soul, a warmth bubbled up and found its way to the bottom of my lashes. 


Little cups slowly filling with the hot need to pause and realign my heart, my thoughts, my confidence. 

So, I let it happen as I saw her there, my mama in the conference room. My big brother trying to figure out the “unfigurable”. This doctor and that one, then another. 

My mama found the right time in awkward and helpless pause of them all and said.

“Not a one of us is driving this train. God’s driving this train.”

My mama always spoke the truth. I believe she’s been watching me feel less than capable, wavering unsteady on the cusp of hard but good things. I believe she sees me about ready to retreat; and she’s proud of me that I haven’t. 

I believe she knows I won’t. 

My world’s not falling apart, some of the details are just tediously unpleasant and tough. Requiring a steadfast stance, a throwing off of the burdens of second guessing and scared. 

I have a life I never fathomed possible. 

So many thankful things. 

The way my husband has endured so much.  The way my son-in-law looks after my girl. The way my son is focused and committed but not in a way that’s crazy obsessive to his future, the way my daughter demonstrates loving her husband.  It’s a pretty love they have, I’m thankful to sit back and see. 

The way today is the first morning in a week I did not wake to a pile of labrador poop. So, I’m thankful for rice and Pepto this morning. I am. 

But, I tell you something!  I dreamt an awful outrageous dream just hours ago filled with trauma and memories and somehow they all mingled with today stuff and yesterday junk.

But, wake up oh, sleeper Lisa! 

Acknowledge you took some bad things to bed with you. Don’t lie there all day! 

Now, let them go and let God! 

He’s got the whole world in His hands.  It is absolutely not up to me to hold it all, hold it all together or figure it out. 

Not my place now. 

Knees down, hands open, face to heaven. 

“Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you,”

‭‭1 Peter‬ ‭5:6‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Enjoy the ride, the driver knows the way. 

Who is in charge of your life? If it is you, then you have good cause to worry. 

But, if it is I, then worry is both unnecessary and counterproductive…

back off a bit, redirecting your focus to Me.  

Jesus Calling

Five Minute Friday: Future

bravery, Faith, grace, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Writing for five minutes, hoping to get it right, to not let age and deficits in tech savvy cause me to abandon the five minute rule and say “oh well!”

Here go thoughts on future and the year I named “breakthrough” feeling only like stepping towards if not just peeking in. 


I don’t lay out my clothes and don’t shop by grocery list planned ahead for meals. 

I’m not sure what I’ll have as mood to match my blouse, my shoes, my day. 

I can’t think far enough ahead to say oh, a roast on Sunday or a ham or oh, well, I’ll just do spaghetti. 

And worklife requires such things, projections, successions and sustainability.

I figure my clothes and meals can at least not be confined to demands of planning.

Now, as far as my future, I do best to live daily and am horrible at goal setting, writing, painting and all. 

I’ve been hearing the navigational command and I’m veering that way; but, more like a wanderer than a traveling soul headed towards a destination.

“And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it,” when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left.”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30:21‬ ‭ESV‬‬

So, thank you Friday prompt for prompting this self-examination. 

I need an itinerary for my future, I’ve haphazardly gone without with only vague sense of direction far too long. 

I’ll get focused on future, lest I discard the things I believe God keeps nudging me towards. 

‘Cause I heard about faith in a new way last week, too. 

It’s not emotion, it’s motion. 

It’s evidence, action, not just talk or thought. 

Let Be

family, grace, marriage, rest, Teaching, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder

You can’t see it probably, 

a shadowy place there amongst the growth. 

This statue-like border up the edge of the pool fence, it started with one branch, like an arm reaching up to warm sky. 

I ranted two summers straight.

“Please trim that ridiculous hedge!” 

All I could think is one day I’d come home and the shrubbery out front would be trimmed into shapes of rooster tails or some design alternating loops and curves, 

Edward Scissorhand-ish and such. 

He loved the randomness of the way it decided to grow up the fence. 

I was annoyed by the intentional way we now on purpose had a bush growing uncontrolled up the fence. 

I decided, no use. 

Let it be. 

Like the sheets all crinkled and untucked or the rag thrown on the counter, not folded over sink 

or the one sip milk jug back in the fridge or…

Summer almost here again and the towering shrub has far exceeded the height of fence top. 

But, I’ve grown to love it.

And the hollowed out place, the opening to the innards is now the place where the mama goes in, a mockingbird careening towards its nest as I watch through my morning kitchen window. 

I walked out with the dogs and turned just now in the mist of rain and thought how beautiful it is to let things be. 

Growing freely, differently, more strong and for reasons yet to be seen. 

To be “let be”

and it just occurred to me this is a post about marriage. 

Rare and different feeling

Oddly nice, this change, this growth in us, in me, the letting be and letting love. 

“Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins.”

‭‭1 Peter‬ ‭4:8‬ ‭ESV


Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee. I hope you’ll take a minute to read her most beautiful prayer here: http://jenniferdukeslee.com/will-pray-prayer/

In the Morning

Abuse Survivor, bravery, courage, Faith, grace, mercy, Prayer, rest, Salvation, Teaching, Trust, Vulnerability

Imagine the day that begins with a prayer, rising and settling into the truth coming out in the quiet of ticking kitchen wall clock space. 


Remembering the tossing of the night and the triumph of a dream that started as memory and ended as battle won. 

Could it be the “ohhmms” that made me victor, not defeated one this time? 

Sunday, yoga with smiles and peace and challenges extended, unleashed. 

Or maybe it was the getting back to the big thing I’d set aside. Just a peek.

I read two pieces, intended to be separate; yesterday I saw that they are one and I realized the answer to the question offered heavenly, 

“Lord, show me what you’d have me do with this idea of me a writer of a book.”

I lingered all evening in the realness of His reply. 

Then dreamt of fighting my old demons and winning, fighting back with determination. 

After the loosening of the groggy like heavy wool coat, I’ve  finally discarded,

I write a prayer to my Heavenly Father.

“Heavenly Father, make me stronger than the things that hold me back, weigh me down, break my spirit.” 

Because of mercy, 

Amen. 

Monday morning begins with the will to be the me He sees again, rediscovered motivation and quiet fervor feeling like fresh anticipation. 

A prayer of Moses, the one God called although he’d declared he could not speak,

“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!”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭90:17‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Truth and Vision

bravery, courage, Faith, grace, Teaching, Trust, Vulnerability

I can’t decide if my glasses are old or my vision is changing or maybe my morning eyes find it harder to focus. 


I wake with prayer and I carry that prayer with me to the place I open my words. 

I fling the glasses to the side because I’ve crinkled up the corners of my cheeks up towards my lashes and I realize I’m better without the lens. 

I wonder if there’s misconception in my thoughts I think to pray, if I’m seeing clearly what might possibly be ahead. 

I’m in a time of not quite sure what’s my part anymore in this thing I called my treasure. I believe if I’m honest I’ve let my vision become blurred by other objects. 

I’m beginning to tell myself the truth, like a failed diet…if I keep it secret will anyone know? 

Maybe not. 

But, I do and better to have good intentions than discarding all intentions and effort. 

Without fail I find truth every morning. 

I’m not supposed to know it all, see it all. 

I’m just called to keep looking and focused and certain what I’m seeking is through the lens of my Lord. 

“For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.”

‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭13:12‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Begin again. Press on, things will become more clear. 

One Day in the Sand

bravery, Children, courage, Faith, family, grace, Motherhood, Teaching, Trust, wonder

We travelled that day, old smoking car when I slowed to idle.

A cloud behind us all the way. 

We made it to the coast.


Had sandwiches and sat on towels, not chairs. 

Impromptu declaration of goodness and grace, my mama goal set to carry out as single priority. 

A day trip, beach, frolicking and them napping as I drove back towards old house on the hill at sunset. 

They called me mommy then. 

Years passed and I became “Mama”. Sometimes, Mama!!!! others, Mma…ma….?!

Getting my attention or pleadingly elongated hoping to see my giving in. 

But, never “Mom”. 

I used to think Mom must be reserved for the cool mothers or the ones who turn the heads of everyone, never looking overwhelmed or exhausted or about to fall apart from life and mothering and the significant in betweens. 
Now, occasionally I respond to “Lisa” and it bothers me not in the least that others question my acceptance of being called by my name. 

I love it actually, prettiest sound of all, to hear my name called by the ones I named. 

Happy Mother’s Day Moms, mamas, mommies and all the other names in between!

The names from the mouths of our babes. 

I’m writing prompted by Five Minute Friday. Read other “Mom” stories here: 

Five Minute Friday

Oh and if you’d like to read other stories about being a Mother, purchase the Motherhood Anthology called “I Heart Mom”. 

My chapter called “Leaving Loved”  tells the story of coming to terms with truths told by my children. 

What an opportunity from God to share my redemption story! 

I Heart Mom

Motherly (s)

bravery, Children, courage, Faith, grace, Motherhood, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, wonder

Wisdom lingers like blood through my veins, pools of restful reasoning.

My waiting, my trusting, my pulling back rather than pushing for quick resolve.

Less control, more confidence.

My reactions, my bravery, my lack of filtering dislike over phony or for show.

Honest expression of observation, less impressing, more insight.

The wisdom of my mama occupies my frame.

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She opens her mouth with wisdom and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue. Proverbs 31:26

There are others too, I’ll call them my “motherlys”. The ones who turn me back to me or towards the good or better they see in me.

My daughter, straight shooter and spot on is quick to lift me up or bring me back down to the place of just enough me rather than “too much Lisa”.

I consider her gauge, I consider her critique as she considers my being of me and we are quite good with the compromise.  A beautiful bride, overjoyed to be wed.

An excellent wife who can find? She is far more precious than jewels. The heart of her husband trusts in her, and he will have no lack of gain.  

Proverbs 31:10-11

One believing the other wise.

wedding 184

 

Wisdom of mothers and daughters, an exchange I’d not expected so pleasantly friendlike.

Then there’s my aunt, my mama’s only sibling.

“Prayer and patience, Lisa…prayer and patience.” Aunt Boo, we call her.

She makes linen garments and sells them; she delivers sashes to the merchant. Strength and dignity are her clothing.

Proverbs 31:24

wedding 073

A newfound motherly, my “Peacock”cousin, told me yesterday as we talked of answered prayers, that she understands me.

Understands the seeking of attention that had long been sought, yet rarely given. Told me it’s hard to know the play between seeking praise and embracing, celebrating a gift.

She corrected me when I told her I’m working hard not to seek the spotlight, I’m working hard on not seeking the glory, working hard to not expect to be noticed.

She opens her mouth with wisdom.

Proverbs 31:26

She said,  “Lisa, it’s acceptance of being affirmed by God. He is affirming your gift, don’t deny his affirmation.”

And I said an audible,”Ahh.” because I’d never considered that hiding away, of not stepping into the light God arranged to illuminate my gift from Him was something bad or invaluable.

I confuse humility with hiding, praise with pride.

When something God made come true, not something I forced, finagled, pushed my way to and through, begging to be noticed.

Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her works be praised at the gates.

Proverbs 31:31

So, on this day moving closer towards my motherless day, I’m sharing an excerpt from the chapter in this book called “I Heart Mom”.

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My chapter, titled “Leaving Loved” was God-planted, cultivated and harvested into print almost smack dab in the middle of this Anthology of stories. There are stories for moms across the ages and stages. I encourage you to purchase a copy and I am thanking God, yet again for his glorious affirmation of my love of putting words together to form stories of good.

   I wore red that day, attempting to inspire myself. My mama wore red. She wore it well. She got stronger one day, and from then on, she was confident and known in her management circles. So, I wore red on that day, anxious to appear in control, assertive and take charge. I met with people, several that day. One, rather outspoken and sure of herself in a way making me, twenty years her senior, feel uncertain. She avoided my eyes, kept glancing towards my neckline. At first, I thought, this necklace is cool, trendy, I guess she wonders maybe where I got it. But, her fixation continued, becoming a question. I figured it out, I decided, “It’s my turkey neck, lines like tissue paper crumbled up then folded back to be used again, the lines in my neck, that’s what she’s obsessing. Later, with many encounters between, I stood in my bathroom and there it was, all day long I’d worn my sweater backward, the stitching of the tag, a rectangle at the base of my neck, the little hollow place. Surely, someone thought to tell me; but, decided against, not wanting to ruin my day. Still, I wondered why friends let me carry on all day, afraid to reveal the truth. Something not nearly as earth shatteringly true as truth kept quiet for years, revelations hard to hear, the ones my children finally revealed; the things nobody along the way had been brave enough to say…

I thought of being a mother last night, as I do in some way or another every day, praying they sense God near, hoping they remember my “don’t forget I love you notes.” My son had gone back to college from Christmas break, and I’d forgotten somehow, so I thought for a second, I wonder what he’s doing at the house. My daughter, a newlywed at home with husband, I thought of texting her; but, didn’t’, I’ll wait ‘til tomorrow.  I’m almost certain that if you asked someone who knows me they’d say it was good, the way I raised them up, the way they knew my love. I’d like to know if there’d been one attentive observer who thought about telling me the truth I know now. Being the parent of grown up children is laborious and good, its redemption in my self-examination, in their courage to confront my mistakes and manipulative behaviors from a distance. It’s a circling back around, learning lessons from them, their decisions and words, finally speaking hard things they’d never been bold enough to say before.  So, if you asked that circle of friends, family or from a distant, maybe social media observer if I’d been a pushy mama, a controlling mama or a mama who sought glory through her son, her daughter; they’d maybe say, “No way” or “Not, Lisa.” The answer comes gradually, a harsh reality when your children get just far enough away to tell you so, far enough from the fear of their mama’s reaction. Brave enough to know the value of honest expression despite causing their mama’s shoulders to drop and her eyes turning away as they become warm with tears. Neither of them would hurt their mama; our journey had been rocky, single mama for a bit, just us three. My daughter, my son, their mama’s vulnerable heart and driven desires. They became children who pleased me…

I see it know, thank you for showing me easy, my daughter, my son. In my arranging your futures, in what I thought was right, was love, I could have worn you out. I now see it made you strong, strong enough to let me know, courageous enough to move past it all to become who you are.

To read the rest of the story about my children and Jacob and Esau, of letting God lead and allowing them to leave me loved, purchase the book on Amazon here:

https://www.amazon.com/Heart-Mom-together-strongest-motherhood/dp/099822118X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1494441621&sr=1-1&keywords=I+Heart+Mom

It’s filled with stories of other moms navigating life, love, and leaving.

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Of babies and boys and girls, softly lined cradles and newly emptied nests.

I am thanking God daily for opportunity.

For reminding me not to give up…to take steps towards doors he decides to open or not.

I’m learning to be affirmed by God, that it’s okay to be happy in good things my way.

I’m linking up  with Jennifer Dukes Lee and the story of the “15 Things”.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/mothers-day-15-things-want-daughters-know/

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Too Deep for Words

bravery, courage, Faith, grace, mercy, praise, Prayer, rest, Salvation, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I can tell you there’s nothing better than having strong arms holding you tight

for longer than a consoling or obligatory hug, for as long as the one being held holds on. 

Until they have emptied themselves of what’s been brimming, aching, 

on the verge of

tears.

I worried about her.  Left our shelter to be on her own and then as we decided today “things got hard…illness, upheaval…all hell broke loose and hard stuff happened”. 

My imagination went wild and tragic. 

She was not home, would not answer. 

I finished a meeting early and decided to try again, she may be home

or the car might have moved and come back. 

The apartment complex entry, scattered with  porch sitters and juveniles turning to notice my car. 

I had taken her to church with me, I’d confronted her struggles and we’d found our way back to good. 
We’d talked about Jesus together. 

I get the chance to come to know women at a loss for winning

ever again. 

You can’t imagine the climb from hopeless to possible. 

Nor the fear of trying to be good and safe and alone with no one to depend upon but you. 

So, when I hugged her goodbye and she cried, fragile arms shaking and shoulder blades a’quiver. 

I held her and she cried. 

For a long time. 

And she asked me to pray for her and I thought fleetingly 

I’ll pray now, out loud and pleading. 

But, it seemed self-serving and held tighter instead, my hands on her back, her face against my chest. 

I’d been calling. I’d decided I’d be met by tragedy if ever I might find her again. 

Her phone stopped working, she explained. 

So, on my kitchen counter now lies an old yet new one I’d found at bottom of my pocketbook, the downgraded discarded upon upgrade I said. 

“I have a phone, you can have it. 

Things will be better. 

Pray. One day, one obstacle at a time. ”

“I’ll be stronger for it.” She said. 

“I can’t imagine you any stronger.” I answered.

“I feel better.” she added and I told her if she could, read Romans 8, because I did this morning and I believe I will again. 

And maybe again. 

“But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.”

‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:25-26‬ ‭ESV‬‬