Teaching

Have Learned

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, grace, memoir, Peace, Redemption, Salvation, Teaching, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

Towards Peace

Underneath the pretty mug marked

Peace.

There’s the Sunday paper, the section with the column written weekly by a scholarly and kind, solid in the faith, teacher of the faith man.

I’ve not read it.

I opened my daily things and read the Utmost for His Highest daily devotion on the phone.

Left it there, walked out with the dog and thought it too much for me, I’m very deficient, I’m not far enough along to learn from this spiritual compilation of a master of God’s word, Oswald Chambers.

Often I wonder about those who read mine and maybe others’ blogs that either proclaim or hint at our faith.

Do I make it seem so doggone hard that a reader might decide, good gracious I’m better off on my own?

It’s possible.

This morning, I opened my tiny and edge torn book, Joy and Strength, a collection of verses and very ancient quotes.

First line was the wisdom of Paul, the murderous villain who was a hater of Jesus, the closing chapter of Philippians, a book marked heavily by my pencil

a note under the header: “Read the book of Philippians, God will reveal what you need to remember.”

“Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therein to be content.”

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:11‬ ‭RV1885‬‬

The words I have learned are my takeaway today.

Know why?

Because it tells me Paul wants me to know, this deciding to surrender your life and your knowing to God,

It is not easy.

I love it so much that he says he had to learn and that he learned through the good and the bad, the celebration and the disappointment.

He learned through circumstances.

He made it through.

Before Paul spoke of contentment and learning he wrote about mindfulness.

Mindfulness meaning, think of all the good, don’t let your thoughts go towards what you’re lacking.

Think about what elicits praise.

Maybe Paul kept a little gratitude journal.

practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you.”

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:9‬ ‭ESV‬‬

The decision to believe wholeheartedly in Jesus is not like the “poof…snap of the finger”!

It’s commitment with doubt occasionally on the edges.

It is certainty that the life you have now is significantly more peaceful than before and it is a patient endeavor, a decisive continuation towards knowing God more.

Baby steps. Always baby steps I believe it should be.

Content in the valley and peak, the ebb and flow.

Spurred on by the Holy Spirit’s empowerment, strength in our core.

I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need.

I can do all things through him who strengthens me.”

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:12-13‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Thank you, God, for your rescue of Paul, a teacher for me and for every human who may have stumbled, fallen, been wrong or done wrong.

Paul, now compared to Kanye and Bieber, a bad, bad man who Jesus believed in, believed could do better, be better, begin again.

I don’t really know the hearts of either of them. Only God and they know whether it’s true, whether they have chosen the way of peace.

I turn now to the column called “Faith Words” by Fred Andrea.

In the column, he writes about the stubborn Jonah, his ideas about worthy or unworthy people, his decision to run the opposite way of God’s leading and then learning a big lesson only to have to be taught again.

We are all learners, stubborn at times, pitiful and even pious.

This is why it jumped off the page this morning, will stick with me as meant for me.

Paul’s strong statement, “I have learned…”

Reassuring for me.

Continue. Continue and believe.

Learning is peace.

Intersecting Neighbors

Abuse Survivor, bravery, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, fear, Forgiveness, grace, love, memoir, Prayer, Redemption, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Barely into the morning, I walk with the baby, the dog in the lead, the narrow road so private, I can sing out loud, I look towards the sky.

My granddaughter smiles as she looks up towards heaven.

I unravel my thoughts or I pull them back together.

It’s a narrow road, conducive to thinking and singing and talking to God.

The car yesterday evening, a bland colored Lincoln sedan was still stalled in the middle place.

The stretch people call the “suicide lane”.

Every time I think of that, I think.

I wish they didn’t name it that.

But, that’s just me.

Where did you travel today?

What did you notice?

It’s early morning, the stars still out and I’m headed towards McDonald’s on a “grandma day”.

The car I saw yesterday, in the middle lane had a big truck pulled in behind it.

This morning it’s left stranded.

I approached yesterday, slowing as I thought for a second, State Patrol driving trucks now?

Instead it was a farmer type gentleman in Wranglers and boots, crisp white shirt tucked and talking to the one broke down.

The stranded one dressed in white T and low hanging jeans, clean cut it seemed.

In my rear view mirror I saw one approach the other, extended hands meeting in a healthy shake.

My mind began to wonder.

I wondered if they knew each other, if the farmer type was scared to stop but did, if the younger man stranded wasn’t sure what to make of the older man’s kindness.

That’s what I thought.

Kindness, regardless.

So, seeing the car in the dark this morning made me think assistance had been offered

And accepted.

I turned towards the drive-thru thinking eat now, be prepared, you won’t take the time later.

Two cars ahead of me and I’m trying to decide will I be late for my school teacher daughter and cause her to be tardy?

Thoughts drifting, I don’t see a figure walking towards the restaurant.

She sees me.

I stop suddenly.

She waves me on and I notice then she’s dressed for work, nothing but blue except gold hoops sparkling.

I’m startled. I tell myself.

Notice, be careful.

Notice.

A customer crosses in front.

I’m soon at the drive-thru and I order, move to the pay window and there she is.

The woman who almost intersected my car.

I notice and I ask.

“Did I almost run into you? I’m so sorry.”

She smiles and I decide is wondering why I paid I’m still pausing.

I tell her,

“As soon as that happened, I told myself, be careful, slow down and notice. You’re my god-wink today.”

Puzzled, she was.

I tell her again. “You’re a god-wink, God telling me to notice.”

She smiles.

Later I thought of the parable about the one of three men who offered to help someone they met on the road.

A Jesus story about first and foremost loving others.

Two men avoided him, crossed over the farthest edge of the road.

One helped.

“But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭10:33‬ ‭ESV

A priest and a Levite avoided the wounded and needy man. The Samaritan, one often shunned, paused to help him.

Helped a neighbor, another human being, didn’t avoid, shy away or cower.

Maybe that’s all it takes.

This afternoon I wondered if the farmer gentleman would have responded differently if he’d been approached by the low slung jeans fellow.

And if I would have had different kinds of thoughts if I’d been the one walking towards the restaurant and maybe almost run over by a person different than my color in a hurry for work and almost not seeing me.

Just thoughts.

I pray I’d have been human and that I’d have loved like the Samaritan, crossed over lanes or lines and did my best, loved

Loved my neighbor.

Words, Promises and Broken Cycles

Abuse Survivor, bravery, Children, confidence, contentment, courage, daughters, Faith, family, grace, hope, memoir, mercy, rest, sons, Stillness, Teaching, Vulnerability, wonder, writing

I’m always surprised when I’m noticed.

My little trendy southern town known for being “best” in “Southern Living” and yet, such a mixture of poverty and riches with people in the in between vying to be noticed and included.

I used to be included.

I was always reluctant.

It was my work and my voice for the issues that got me invites to ladies’ clubs and big civic suit dressed men meetings.

It was that voice that labeled me one who “talked about hard things, a conversation starter”.

I brought things like homelessness, suicide and trauma from abuse to the table.

And then, I went home.

It was my job.

I left the work to do something other.

On a Friday night in our little town, the place where everyone congregates is hoppin’!

Women dressed for early dinners before a big show at our little theatre.

Young people, families, craft beers, pizza, music and chilled Pinot glowing in pretty glasses.

I wait outside until an inside table is ready, humid here I ask for water.

People are watching and talking.

Teenage girls in high heels and fancy dresses for homecoming football, carefully walking on cobblestones.

I’m responding to little dings on my phone, a sweet video of my granddaughter dancing to her daddy’s favorite funny song.

Then another, she’s being fed from a spoon, the first time and she’s a pro.

Sweet Elizabeth Lettie.

My friends arrive, one and then the other.

A couple stands to leave their table and the wife comes over to speak.

She and her husband, long time supporters of the agency I formerly led.

I assume she’s coming to chat with my friend and instead she addresses me.

Asking, how do you like being a grandmother?

I answer and she adds.

I think it’s so very nice, that you kept your promise. VS

I smiled, no, I’d say I was beaming.

No question about adjusting to not working or have you heard about this or that or the other…

All that’s happened in the wake of your retirement?

No, it was words to acknowledge me keeping my promise to my daughter.

Before I left my career, the paper and a local magazine did a piece on my leaving.

Both, I made sure, contained

I’m honoring a promise I made long ago to my daughter, I’ll be helping with her baby.

My friends and I caught up on lives with spouses, small talk and talk about what’s been newsworthy for our small town.

One friend who’d been aligned wholeheartedly with me in my ten year tenure in mental health expressed a longing that the work the way it used to be would continue.

She added it feels like “wasted time” all the years she put in.

“Oh, no, I’m not letting either of you own that!” announced my feisty second friend.

Adding that there are countless lives of women and children whose cycles of abuse and homelessness, depression and worthlessness have been broken!

I thought “ripple effect”.

They then asked about my children, both of them childless.

I shared how they’re doing and recent conversations with both that left me in awe over their strength…them being so much stronger than the me at their age.

My friend added,

you’ve broken the cycle you knew.

I thought of my children.

I accepted that. Yes, I have.

Yes, thank God; with God, I have.

Friday night reflections on Saturday morning:

You’ll hear what you need from others when you need it and while the encounters may be few, you will be noticed for being you.

No other reason.

Just you, being you.

A quiet strong.

Lord, may this be my legacy.

The choices I made and make, the ripple effect, like the settled waters of a quiet creek.

They come back.

Back to me.

I am thankful.

“I was young and now I am old, yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken or their children begging bread.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭37:25‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Vanity and Strife

Abuse Survivor, Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, hope, memoir, Peace, Redemption, Teaching, Vulnerability, wonder, writing

In the margin of my Bible, the heading of Ecclesiastes, I’ve added, “Reflections of an old man chasing after ‘good things.'”

I’m glad Solomon left behind his wisdom, his insistence that what we strive for other than God is akin to wasting our days.

Still, we want what we want. We long for what represents achievement.

I laid this leaf inside my Bible not sure I’d be able to preserve it. I was able. The spot in the center is so intricate it looks as if a tree with tiny branches created a piece of art.

I will keep it.

To have my art in a gallery would mean painting a series of similar pieces, gaining the attention of a gallery owner and them being thrilled to display my works.

There might even come a time that I become famous, someone well known buys a painting and all of the other wannabe well knowns follow behind and my art might become well-known

Same with my writing. I may by chance have someone read my blog and they know an agent and they tell said agent, I think this writer is worth looking at more closely. She has a meaningful story.

I imagine such things.

I make up fantastic scenarios about being noticed, about being a success.

But I’ve had little successes that have taught me success doesn’t satiate the soul.

If at all, only for a little while.

“Yet when I surveyed all that my hands had done and what I had toiled to achieve, everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind; nothing was gained under the sun.”

‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭2:11‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Solomon was successful, wise and well-known.

But, found his soul empty, his striving after the uncatchable wind.

I listened to a Grammy winning performer share with a likeminded and successful four book author.

Both admitted days of empty longing that hadn’t been and couldn’t be filled by “success”.

Fear of being able to be enough in their performance led them to isolate for days.

Something was missing at times. Their success on its own could not sustain happiness, contentment or a sense of satisfaction.

I believe success is simply intentional contentment and a personal resignation to choose to pursue “works of your hands” that you give back as an honor of God.

Otherwise, we chase for validation, we covet the Instagram lives of others, we grow sullen over being seemingly left behind.

I’ve been kept whole by my God. I have helped others. I have loved my family. I have made it my goal to grow closer to God each day.

Moment by moment, this pursuit to me, is God’s idea, if there is one, of success.

Success to me?

Being brave so that others will too. Being hopeful so that others have hope, choosing love over remorse and humble surrender to what I in all my vain striving do not know.

Last week, I wrote one of my bravest posts so far. A handful of people read, two or three said thank you or I understand.

Success?

Yes, that feels like just enough.

Success

Linking up with others at FMF on the subject of “Success”.

Grace and Tests

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, fear, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, memoir, mercy, Peace, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Teaching, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

The morning air is chilly. The sky is cloudless. I missed the sun coming up. The day begins.

I’m up with pup again and longing for the days I could sleep past 10.

Who remembers the way that feels, the decision to stay in bed, cool sheets and just waking only to decide to turn the pillow, pull the sheet up and languish?

Linger? Lay longer? Joining the others to realize “oh, man I needed that!” ?

I digress.

The tallest of the pines in our backyard, clustered with two others and encircled by azaleas is going to have to come down,

I look up and notice a glimmer and think the sun is resting on the top pine needles. Instead, it’s the turning of their green to rusty brown, the tree is dying.

Weeks ago I came home from my time with Elizabeth. A storm had come through, pine needles littered the ground and floated in the pool.

Long stretches of bark had been stripped from the tree, bark shaved off the length of the trunk, wide deep stripes.

For a second I thought, “squirrels?” because we’ve had an overwhelming presence of them this summer.

No, lightning it was. The tall tree had been struck, had been beaten.

Soon, it will be cut down. Soon there will be an expanse of space, a clearing of backyard view, less shade on the pool.

It will be a chance for new.

I sat on the sofa and out of nowhere or maybe because I talked with my son yesterday, he’ll soon be sitting for the CPA exam.

From what I’ve heard it’s one of the toughest.

I thought of other tests, examinations that measure our knowledge, measure our faith, call upon us to dig deep into our recall of provision and know without question.

I’m still standing. I am well.

Come what may, we will endure. We’ll excel on the test that measures our believing all things are for good despite life’s batter or beating.

I remembered college professors who allowed you to “exempt” an exam or graded “on the curve”.

I remembered neither of those were ever enough grace for me when it came to biology or trigonometry.

I’m glad God’s grace is not like that. I’m thrilled to have a story that includes survival.

When it could have gone the other way.

I have a very good life despite a history of battered and beaten.

I am well.

I am here to tell. What have you endured that gives you reason to know the grace is real?

What did you feel momentarily or maybe a period of months or years, there’s no way I’ll pass this test, there’s no way I’ll endure unchanged, unhardened, secure?

The choice is ours. The choice is yours. You frame your days around the grace that never ends, the nearness of God, the truth you’ll find in the stories of ancient victims who endured.

On Saturday, I spoke with a friend about the woman cured by Jesus of her discharge of blood lasting twelve years.

A well known passage for me, filled with possibility and hope.

The woman was ashamed and so secretively she sought healing. She just touched the bottom of his robe.

The part I missed before that my friend settled on is the purpose of her being seen by Jesus.

Jesus wouldn’t let her remain unknown.

He asked her to identify herself and when she did he saw her face to face and told her, Go in peace.

Be healed.

“When the woman realized that she could not stay hidden, she began to tremble and fell to her knees in front of him. The whole crowd heard her explain why she had touched him and that she had been immediately healed. “Daughter,” he said to her, “your faith has made you well. Go in peace.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭8:47-48‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Let’s not forget that Jesus interrupted his plans. He’d been called to heal a wealthy leader’s daughter and paused to give confirmation to a woman who’d been living in a very bad, incapacitated way.

I believe she was healed even if she’d hadn’t been told so by Him that day.

I believe Jesus wanted to see her, wanted her to allow herself to be fully known and seen.

Because maybe, if she’d walked away healed but still hidden, she’d be prone to fall back towards shame.

Jesus knew that.

Knows the same with us.

Is there something you’re enduring and half-heartedly hoping He knows?

Be transparent.

Kneel to pray and imagine the hem of his garment. Rise to endure knowing you’re seen.

Fully known.

The roots of the tall pine were the nesting place for babies this year. Perfectly secluded, the baby bunnies were born and they frolicked all summer.

I loved the surprise of them, loved to call them “jackrabbit” like my granddaddy did.

They brought me joy.

The tiny roses keep spontaneously blooming bright red regardless of harsh pruning.

They are survivors.

What test are you facing? What situation a challenge of your truth of God’s grace, provision and equipping of you to endure?

His love never ends.

Provision won’t run out.

Nor does the grace he gives for endurance.

“And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love.”

‭‭Romans‬ ‭5:4-5‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Now to research trees.

I’ve always wanted a mimosa, the tree with fuzzy dark green leaves like velvet and blooms so brilliantly fuchsia, you can’t help but be hopeful, cannot help but believe!

Researching the mimosa tree, I learn that gardeners consider them a nuisance, the seeds, the pests they inhabit and such.

Matters not to me because when they decide to bloom they are so very beautiful, fragile and brilliant, a color you can not deny.

Tree experts say many mimosas don’t survive.

Yet, many do.

Strong.

Continue blooming.

Continue and believe.

Course Change

Abuse Survivor, baptism, bravery, contentment, courage, curiousity, Faith, Forgiveness, freedom, hope, memoir, mercy, obedience, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, surrender, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

Does not wisdom call?

Does not understanding raise her voice? Proverbs 8:1

I heard them off in the distance and decided they were traversing through the warm fog towards the expected pond down the road.

I stood as the puppy followed his pattern, checking out the corner shrub, sniffing at the dirt; he is so slow in the mornings to do “his business”.

The sound of the geese came closer and I expected to see them fly over the four homes down subdivision.

Instead they were sounding very close.

I stood as the sound approached and there they were, two sets of geese perfectly positioned over me. So very close, I could see the pattern of their feathers and their soft curved bellies, their beaks breaking up the fog.

Two sets of seven or eight or so in their arrow design making their way to must be a new destination, course change, following new directions today.

The puppy scurried towards me and was startled, his little face looking up towards the sky as he hurried.

This is new for him, I thought; he has to figure out if he should run away or be okay, trusting their kind and sweetly patterned arrival.

Being safe and simply noticing.

Noticing God.

Like the random occurrence of the dragonfly perched on my cup poolside, it rested until I noticed and because I noticed, I captured it on my phone.

Someone asked, “You’re taking a picture of a dragonfly?”

I don’t believe I responded.

Because I had no idea the symbolism and I didn’t know how beautiful it and its traditional meaning would be.

Until this morning.

Until the meaning lined up with my prayer.

The Dragonfly normally lives most of its life as a nymph or an immature. It flies only for a fraction of its life.  This symbolizes and exemplifies the virtue of living in the moment and living life to the fullest.

I’m back to bedside prayers in the morning. To be honest it’s sometimes more like a long low downward dog pose, hoping for relief in the ache of low back.

I tumble from my bed to the floor determined to at the very least start well.

Start surrendered.

I think of the invalid who’d been so very close to healing waters but waited over half his life for someone to help him get well, help him from the ground into the water.

He waited to be noticed, for maybe someone to care and he used the excuses that well everyone else is beating me there, the line’s too long or perhaps, he felt the waters had lost their strength because of all the help they’d given everyone else…

Could there still be healing enough left in the water for me?

After all those years, he was paralyzed, not only his limbs but his mind and his soul.

Oh, man! I understand.

Stay where you are, settle in your place of thinking you can but never will.

“One man was there who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had already been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be healed?” The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, and while I am going another steps down before me.” Jesus said to him, “Get up, take up your bed, and walk.” And at once the man was healed, and he took up his bed and walked.”

‭‭John‬ ‭5:5-9‬ ‭ESV‬‬

It’s no coincidence, the geese flying over, the visiting dragonfly and my different prayer this morning.

Lord, can my life truly be different? Help me live today in pursuit of the difference in me that only you know. Help me to be moment by moment today instead of rushing towards this evening, tomorrow or even next year. Can my life really be different? I’m willing to see.

I don’t think we know at all, even an ounce of what God might have planned if we are patient, persistent and willing.

I don’t think we see the magic and power of getting up from our “mats”… our places on the ground or the floor and embracing the change and changes God says are possible when we forget all the barriers, the doubts, the distractions and the pull of life backward or in unhealthy directions.

It may be slow. I’ll try to be steady.

I’ll go slow.

I’ll follow unknown paths perhaps.

Moment by moment, change will come and I’ll find myself in small yet surrendered places.

Positioned with Him because I moved from my worn out tattered and sad place and into the healing water.

Continue.

Continue and believe.

Changed.

Protected Child

birds, bravery, Children, confidence, contentment, courage, daughters, Faith, family, fear, grace, hope, love, marriage, memoir, mercy, Motherhood, Peace, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

I watched the shifting sky, the colors filtered and spread wide.

I’m with my granddaughter on our morning walk, earlier this time.

The sky beckoning her gaze.

I capture her profile, her mama and daddy’s home in the background.

Her cheeks are full and full of joy and their blush is the same as what God has mixed in with the sky.

We walk.

I hold tight, shift her weight, careful not to have my arms press in to her tiny frame.

She welcomes my hold.

She regularly tilts her sweet face in awe of the trees, the sky.

I pray out loud, sing songs that include her name and other crazy things.

I love her. What a sweet thing.

Someone from the coast asked for my thoughts yesterday,

What do you say to your storms? DH

I answered.

I tell the storm, “I’m protected.”

This morning, I think of my children, my family and I have a moment of new and needed clarity.

If I’m protected, are not my children protected as well?

I journal my thoughts on a morning that God woke me at 4 and I decided, get up anyway.

I thought about God’s all encompassing immense and protective love.

How he loves them even more than I ever could be able.

God, you’re their protector just as you are mine.

I don’t have to “stay on top of things”.

I don’t have to anxiously remind you in my prayers to keep things under control.

Ha! Wow!

Me, reminding you of your role?!

I don’t have to watch from a distance so far that I squint to hope to see what’s going on, strain to hear, concentrate or calculate the endings of stories of their books when they are barely a chapter in.

And that you, not I, have already written.

I can set aside my book, my syllabus of reading between the lines, leaning toward tragic stories over beautiful and memorable autobiographies.

Like mine.

Yes.

I can know they are protected.

“No one has ever seen God. But if we love each other, God lives in us, and his love is brought to full expression in us.”

‭‭1 John‬ ‭4:12‬ ‭NLT‬‬

I can love more fully than I’ve ever loved.

Point more clearly towards hope.

Be strong so that my strength is what they admire.

Yes, love.

Love is the protection, mine to freely give.

Best I can offer.

Protection is yours.

Light Remains

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, hope, Labradors, mercy, obedience, Peace, praise, Prayer, pride, Redemption, Serving, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

Has your path left a long shadow behind you of late?

When you look back at before do you see only the grey, the narrow thinning of your best days?

This is not the case.

We rarely see the places our light remains. This, I believe is always always God’s intent, we don’t have to see it, see Him to know the light in us is never dimmed.

We don’t have to know the places the light he gave us remains.

Maybe that’s grace that says this is humility.

Maybe it’s mercy that says there’s new every morning, let’s move forward.

Some days I skip the Old Testament passage my guide tells me is for today.

Not today.

Job 29 and 30 is Job’s defense, his argument with God. I suppose you might say it’s sad.

But, it’s honest.

Job is recalling his standing amongst others, the way people responded to his walking by, the commitments he made to others and followed through. Maybe you’ve been in a similar place. Yesterday, God positioned me with a woman of faith, we caught up and she assured me she’d sensed some recent changes had been uneasy.

We were in agreement, God grows us up in those seasons, helps us not fight for our reputations, to sit in silence and let Him lead.

While I’d never compare my life to Job’s, I learn something new each time I turn to his book. Today, it wasn’t the inventory of all his good he reminds God of in these chapters. It was to me a couple of verses I think may have been his lasting peace.

His memories of the way he was with others. This cherished. What Job remembered being, doing, believing it was good.

“I smiled on them when they had no confidence, and the light of my face they did not cast down.”

‭‭Job‬ ‭29:24‬ ‭ESV‬‬

What a beautiful thing, to have changed the environment or lessened someone’s pain by being near.

Yes, this is enough.

More than.

My friend and I talked about the enemy yesterday too.

How revelations like the one above will try to be dulled by gossipers, questioners, disputers and even our own doubts about your heart and soul’s intentions.

We are human, we get drawn towards bitterness and hurt. We learn as we go, hard times increase our faith.

It’s the soft light of our faith that will remain in the same way it did in other former places.

God’s light is ever slow to dull.

I am so thankful for Job. He teaches me every single time. God is always good.

Always.

Always faithful as we endure for the sake of His plans not our own.

Linking up with other FMF bloggers on the prompt of BACK

Five Minute Friday

#thecolorsofmybible #butforhisgrace #faithful19

What We Need

Abuse Survivor, Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, grace, hope, memoir, painting, Peace, praise, Prayer, pride, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, writing

Not sure which is the source of more regret, sharing our sorrows and discontentment or pretending they don’t exist, that elation and contentment never ever wane as we walk with our Lord amongst others.

Rubbing shoulders with their successes, exposing our less.

The back of my mind wonders if others wonder,

Who is this God she mentions and then seems to regularly forget?

The God who calls her back because He knows her, knows her fully, knows she’s willing to listen again.

“If you faint in the day of adversity, your strength is small.”

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭24:10‬ ‭ESV‬‬

God who knows I’m learning, getting more comfortable with my strengths.

I saw Saturday morning beginning from a distance through the kitchen window.

I rose to see for myself the source of the glow making mosaics in the space of pine trees.

Sun coming up after a hard rain.

I pick the tiny bud realizing it’s been a bit since I brought one in.

Saturday beginning again to remind me not to despise small things.

Small things like regret over words painted by pity that longed for expression.

A sacrifice for others I guess, a place for their brave me too.

I’m happy for Saturday.

Lessons have settled, done their work and woke me with, although reluctant, a return to determination.

To get back with what is mine to do, gather myself up and submit all my efforts and energy to getting back on track.

God’s way.

Patient.

Oddly, “the Stones” are in agreement with scripture today.

I will get what I need.

Not always what I want.

If I try, sometimes.

How we live either stirs us up or settles us. Let your heart hold what’s in your hands right this very moment. Gently discipline yourself again and again and again…until there’s no frantic grasping for other things. You’ve become satisfied with only what is yours to seek, to gather, to make good things from, to hold a bit and then share with others. Your art. Your words.

Try sometime and then sometime again.

You’ll get what you need.

When your heart changes your mind and takes the lead.

Spreads down from your shoulders, your arms, your fingers.

Love you believe, love you release.

Art and words.

Continue and believe.

Mystery and Secret

Abuse Survivor, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, Forgiveness, grace, hope, memoir, Peace, Prayer, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

One translation calls it a secret and the other a mystery.

Both talk about glory.

It happened again.

I woke with words from a verse. It’ll either be a verse or some lyrics and it happens quite often.

I’m listening to “Remember God” by Annie F. Downs now.

She writes of a desperate time in her life. One morning she woke with lyrics. It was significant for her.

I see.

I like her conclusion as to the reason, she says it must be because her mind is at rest when she’s sleeping and her soul can contribute to the conversation.

She didn’t say it just like that but, I see.

I’m such an imperfect follower of Jesus and yet, I’m still so very called to listen.

It’s the following that brings me words and lyrics.

Today’s?

“Christ in me, the hope of glory”

I thought about it, the minimization of this truth that I do.

Christ in me.

Must’ve been from talking with my cousin about how we want to live and be seen and known in our living by others who see.

See the peaceable of me, just see it, not needing any telling.

Just showing.

Like it truly is a secret or a mystery, the gradual change in the joy on my face, the ease in conversation, the letting be and letting go what are not matters that are to matter to me.

Glory, I longed to know what it is that I’m aching for, leaning towards, committed to and convinced of.

Of all the synonymous words,

I’ll stick with splendor.

I’ll keep my eyes peeled for the splendor that says to me,

There are beautiful things waiting with your name on them. This is hope, mysterious believing in splendor to come.

The tiny roses are blooming again even after being clearly overly pruned.

Oddly, the thorns are minimal and ones that are appearing are cushioned by tender green.

Little baby teacup like flowers are showing up amongst the leaves turning darker colors.

As if to say.

There are seasons even in the midst of a season, there are plot twists and mysterious yet to be seen glories.

The thing you’re waiting for, your assurance of ordering your days is taking its bittersweet time in arrival.

You just feel so scattered, you keep saying.

In the process, you see a settling, you sense a bit more comfort in the not always knowing.

And you know why your reply has been on repeat in various conversations related to your transition.

God is growing me in this season.

And you know for sure there’s no visible evidence and you know that’s okay.

It is true, you are growing.

There’s no need for notice or big “to do” over you.

What matters is the soul of you, the shift of your spirit, the incremental transition to the you known by God.

To peacable you, peaceful and at peace you.

Oh, I know it will happen again, likely tomorrow.

My first thought groggy but awake.

It will be of God.

Either song or scripture.

“And this is the secret: Christ lives in you. This gives you assurance of sharing his glory.”

‭‭Colossians 1:27 NLT

And I’ll chase it again, want to own it.

I’ll chase down that glory and I’ll say thank you Jesus for your persistence in chasing down my soul, wearing that thorny crown, causing me to wonder, leading me to follow.

Thank you for the secret, the mysterious hope of you.