I have a new journal with space for three things, labeled “finding your focus”.
Holiness
Health
and Change
are today’s, likely tomorrow as well.
About change, it has become clear to me that we do not change when our shame or shame meted out by others is the motivator.
I look in the mirror and see my mama’s rounded shape.
I remember her walking through the house in her bra and panties and thinking “Oh, Lord have mercy, isn’t she ashamed?”
But, she wasn’t. She was just her.
The waist I inherited from her has almost gone away, padded now by a layer. For months now I’ve watched my belly decide it’s time for me to accept it.
Or change.
I look in the mirror and I acknowledge this 61 year old body. This looking sideways in the full length is a reflection, is change.
I assure you, it’s progress in the right direction, the not darting quickly to the closet or only using the bathroom mirror.
Because looking is simply seeing and not allowing shame to suffocate me with the reality of my excess weight.
I don’t believe in shaming myself any longer. It’s not productive, effective or motivating.
Shame does not prompt change, only forces an action that is not maintained.
Nothinggood comes by force. Force and peace are opposing motivators.
Change comes when we allow ourselves to embrace the slow work of hope.
When we begin to believe the distant promise of the peace that changing that damaging, unhealthy, harmful behavior will bring.
But, not suddenly will we see and that’s the thing about change.
We must have a sort of dreamlike vision towards what we don’t yet see.
We must want peace, not a tiny waistline or kicking a habit we’ve used as a treat or comfort.
We must believe peace is within reach, that we were born to live in peace.
And be brave enough to moment by moment not shame ourselves into change, rather to change because
Peace is the reason. Peace is our attainable hope.
“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.” Jeremiah 29:11-13 ESV
This post is part of a series on change for October along with other writers in the Five Minute Friday community.
My gaze focused on the tall bare branched tree, old and ash colored amongst the others still holding green.
It reminded me of hope and holding on, of being planted in just the place that the morning sun illuminates it. We walked together in rain jackets, pockets crammed with acorns and fallen leaves, feet bare because of spontaneity.
The rain sounds led to a prayer stance she copied. I smiled.
Peace. Sweet peace.
On the way to church on Sunday, a memory came. No reason, not a song or a scene that stirred up the scary long ago vivid memory.
Of a time marked by alone in a sort of wilderness, marked by events that changed the imprint of my brain. Changed and erased my sense of safety on most days.
I’m afraid altered workings of my brain forever.
I wonder.
Today, that fear of forever seems accurate. Powerful nightmares for no apparent reason woke me at 6:00 and then finished their working as I drifted in and out of their fearful overtaking until 8:00.
I journaled them, looking for the seeds that started the nighttime stories, the coal that fueled the frightening furnace.
I made sense of it in a way and then asked God if nightmares would always be my battle, if I’d ever be able to be effortlessly hopeful and free.
Matthew and Mark recorded two versions of the boy brought to the disciples and Jesus by his desperate father. I imagine the father was wondering if his son would ever be well, if he’d be overtaken by muteness and seizures forever.
Jesus answers questions firmly and with a tone of importance and perhaps, impatience with them all.
He tells the disciples your faith must be increased and he tells the father you must rid yourself of unbelief.
“And Jesus said unto them, Because of your unbelief: for verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you.” Matthew 17:20 KJV
“Jesus said to him, “What do you mean ‘if’? If you are able to believe, all things are possible to the believer.” Mark 9:23 TPT
Then he tells them, you must have faith and most of all your prayer must be a committed, confident and consistent kind of prayer.
“And when he had entered the house, his disciples asked him privately, “Why could we not cast it out?” And he said to them, “This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer.” Mark 9:28-29 ESV
I gathered my journal and pens, other books and put them away for today. I sat with my coffee and my kitten.
Quietly, not at all condemning, the answer to whether my past trauma would always lead to debilitating nightmares and have power over me in my sleep came.
Yes, if you will hold fast to the faith seed I gave you, nurture it with prayer and commitment and allow the growth, you will be better, less held in the horror of past trauma.
I believe
If you will decide to believe. If you will have faith in your healing equal to the measure of me, your powerful Heavenly Father.
You will continue to be better.
The passage in Mark 9 has held my interest for a couple of months. I see the father, I see the disciples who’d just returned from the Mt. of Transfiguration with Jesus.
They’d been witness to God saying this is my Son.
“And a cloud overshadowed them, and a voice came out of the cloud, “This is my beloved Son; listen to him.” And suddenly, looking around, they no longer saw anyone with them but Jesus only.” Mark 9:7-8 ESV
Still, their faith was small, Jesus told them as they asked why they weren’t able to heal the boy.
“He said to them, “Because of your little faith. For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.” Matthew 17:20 ESV
I find comfort in knowing belief wasn’t easy for them, having faith that made no sense must have also been a challenge.
I like the tone Jesus had with them…sort of you asked and I’m telling you. You need more faith, you need less unbelief, doubt and dread and more abandoned belief in me.
I sit now with the answer to the question I asked an hour ago, a note to God as a prayer.
Yes, you are well and you will be even more well as you ask for my help. Ask me to help your unbelief.
Is there something you’re sure you’ll never be fully free from? This side of heaven may always include our hardships, horrors and disabilities.
Ask God to bring you relief and to increase your faith, decrease your unbelief.
Perfection is not necessary in this pursuit. Recognition of its power and of your need are more important.
Turn your face towards heaven.
We were not made to carry burdens alone. Talk to God and a friend or counselor. Find someone who will believe alongside you.
In the summer months, my husband questions my robe with pajamas.
I tell him I love it, I just like to wear it. I feel pulled together.
Before daylight, I’ve left home, left it hanging with soft pajamas on the hook.
Monday morning morning views are back. The sunrise to the right of me leads me on. I turn to see it developing, the new and glorious day.
The road towards small town has me meeting headlights and remembering a time the lights sparked caution.
Remembering today that’s better, the lights, the road, the earliness of day.
Everything an adjustment bringing acceptance.
This time last year I wrote a book I thought was for children.
It was God’s promise posed in a way of “maybe she’ll get it this way” kind of thing.
I matter to God.
You matter to God no matter what.
You’re seen, known and loved.
When I worked with women trying to decide whether to believe life was worth living and whether they could change life stealing patterns,
I’d say,
“Look in the mirror, look for more than a minute, you’ll be able to see how you’re doing.”
I’m not talking full length that helps you decide if you can walk on the beach without your shorts or whether the pants are too tight from behind, whether the dress fits good or is too matronly.
No, just the bathroom mirror.
Wash your face and gaze. Consider the condition of your soul through the look in your eyes.
You’ll see. You will know.
Look again, again and again.
Check yourself.
Are you wearing your righteousness? Are you dressed in the covenant of peace?
Your eyes will know and they will tell you so.
You’ll see restoration, you’ll be excited to keep seeing it.
Christ in you, the hope of glory.
Become friends with the morning mirror. Carry on. Remember how yesterday was different.
Your faith more certain, your chasing misplaced trust became an acceptance of it.
A robe embraced you, rested on your shoulders and covered your questions,
The robe of righteousness, the blanket of salvation.
Continue and believe.
Be faithful in your belief.
Faithfulness is God’s character and that same character is in you.
“He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.” Psalm 23:3 ESV
“The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.” Psalm 16:6 ESV
I wonder if anyone on a summer morning would pause there as well. Or just me, my eye drawn to nature, the way an old bent root is exposed through what once was the ground, now eroding to give way for the road.
For our morning walking.
We noticed the pillowy green moss covering the border and we’d never not touch it, the invitation to see new life juxtaposed with trees barren because of age.
We stopped and cupped the evidence of life in the palm of our hands, caressed the smooth earthen wall.
It was a small thing, gloriously small.
Like clouds thickly shifting, my thoughts are of the majesty of God’s hands swooping down to stir them up.
I am convinced of this actually and often.
Majesty
I’m in a group of women called “The Alabaster Girls”.
I joined this group of others I don’t personally know because I wanted to be one, one with other women who would if given the chance, pour out all I’d been saving up in my own vessel or jar and in the face of resistance, express my relationship with Jesus.
“…what she has done will also be told in memory of her.” Matthew 26:13 ESV
Today, the leader suggested members of this group share our testimony. I paused like I’ve paused many times before.
My testimony of deciding to believe in Jesus is really small, sort of private, sort of “not sure it took” because my path forward has been imperfect.
So, I typed it in the comments and I saw my salvation in the truest way.
I thanked the group’s moderator for asking me to tell the story of my salvation, the one I sometimes felt was too small.
The story of my quiet day, quiet choice and quietly steady faith.
Jesus came to me gently and I welcomed Him in, in a quiet way.
I sat alone in my home, a single mother with two children. My Sunday morning thing became watching Charles Stanley, In Touch. I decided to believe what I still believe, Jesus died for me so that I could have life. It wasn’t a whole lot of fanfare and so, many times I’ve questioned the simplicity of it…now, I know that’s the greatest gift and truth, the decision to believe in Jesus can happen anywhere and I should never discount my testimony…deciding to follow Jesus, alone on a Sunday morning with a journal in my lap. God knew me even when I was so lonely and lost and He met me the most gentle way, knowing I was afraid of “being pushed around”. Wow. I’ve never actually written this out until today. God is using you, sweet Nan Trammell Jones.
The seed was planted way back then although not always meticulously tended or consistently fertilized by choices, prayer and worship.
Quietly, quietly and persistently I have grown and in my often “quiet about it” way, the way God made me, He is using my story.
Glorious Things
I am growing and others see Jesus in me in the very way God made me.
Quietly like the persistent beauty of green moss covering the ground, the evidence of goodness, of peace, of quiet confidence in God, the earth and all things knowing Him made more glorious.
Decide to accept Jesus. You will never regret what can never be taken away.
I read or heard the other day, a warning, don’t let your “quiet time” just be an empty habit or a trendy phrase. I thought about my mornings, my most treasured time of all, of waking up early just to be quiet and alone with God. I’m needy in that regard. I’m needy in a lot of ways.
I need this “need thee every hour” commitment.
I returned to one verse that feels like proof of God really knowing the me I am lately. The Passion translation of the Psalms is tender, brave and honest. I grab ahold of the words, hold them close.
“You keep every promise you’ve ever made to me! Since your love for me is constant and endless, I ask you, Lord, to finish every good thing that you’ve begun in me!” Psalms 138:8 TPT
I’ve long loved Psalm 139 and now I’m fixed on 138 too. Psalm 116 has a header “I’m saved.” I’ve been loving this too because most of all lately, I’m resting in the sweet reality of God’s love of me. Notice, I said “of” not for. God loves me, loves you.
“So now I live with the confidence that there is nothing in the universe with the power to separate us from God’s love. I’m convinced that his love will triumph over death, life’s troubles, fallen angels, or dark rulers in the heavens. There is nothing in our present or future circumstances that can weaken his love.” Romans 8:38 TPT
So, I’ll keep waking every morning God keeps me able. I’ll read. Not always everything and not always the same book or Bible. But, I’ll be quiet because I can’t make it on my own. I need to be reminded.
No one ever cared for me like Jesus. There’s no greater promise of unwavering love. To love others well, I need the reminder that I am loved. I need it every hour, every day,
Hope is the thing with feathers – That perches in the soul – And sings the tune without the words – And never stops – at all – Emily Dickinson
Recalling Mercy
I misplaced my mustard seed, the tiny glass enclosed actual seed that jingled on my wrist, a charm on my bracelet.
I’ve resigned myself not to find it again and decided, someone else may find it and it will be the thing they needed that day and days to come.
They would need the thing called faith.
They would need hope that demands little and remains like the song of a morning bird.
“I love the Lord because he hears my voice and my prayer for mercy.” Psalms 116:1 NLT
I prayed for mercy yesterday, at least five times. I lost another thing, much more valuable and important, a necessity.
My morning was a panic, I searched in the most outrageous places, the last one was the refrigerator.
I cancelled one morning thing and then decided to carry on, to stop searching for my “dental appliance”, the most embarrassing thing, and do the other.
The other being get dressed, let it go, stop searching, do the important thing.
Take the coral colored roses on the kitchen counter to your friend who has lost her husband, choose what’s more important than your crazy searching.
I prayed again. I told the Lord, I don’t deserve to find this, I don’t deserve your mercy yet again.
Walked away to get myself together and you most likely know, I found my partial in the place I’d left it, on the bathroom counter, safe under a hand towel.
I left the roses on my friend’s front porch, not knowing if they’d be found before the rain.
Just knowing in whatever state or whenever they were discovered, they’d be what God intended,
A thing God told me to do.
Later, I thanked God for finding it and I thought two things.
One, why was I so convinced I’d never find an object in my very own home and more important, why was I so convinced that God would not, yet again, be merciful?
Things I understand more each day.
God is loving, the giver of hope not harm. God is the open arms of grace to the guilty and bent by shame.
God hears every prayer I pray.
God is good.
I’ll never be good enough based on my weaknesses, forgetfulness, haphazard or hurried behaviors.
I have a helper who hears when I call.
To say we’re not deserving is true.
To know that God made a way called mercy is the quiet answer to all our crazy prayers.
“Here he stands! The Commander! The mighty Lord of Angel Armies is on our side! The God of Jacob fights for us!
Pause in his presence” Psalms 46:11 TPT
I woke to a pleasant voice on my phone and then a message that alarmed me and led to surprise then chills followed by a pause.
It’s almost noon and I’m numbed and lazy by the absorption of the truth of someone’s passing.
Sadly surprised.
I hear the hum of yard work in the back and front yard of the neighbor. Curious, I step outside.
a shower overnight abundanceeverything passes
Last night I looked from the window and thought how happy it made me, the limelight hydrangeas my husband decided to plant in a new place.
Twenty years married tomorrow and we have our first legitimate garden. Our granddaughter helped plant the tomatoes. The growth of zucchini has been outrageous.
I check it every day, a rectangular space near the fence.
Full of growth
And still growing.
I haven’t told my husband of the friend’s passing. They were close in a way I don’t know, seems he saw strength in him and I believe it was mutual, most likely unspoken.
Strength, yes.
Strength.
We’re not able on our own. The tiny plants become tiny tomatoes. The transplanted hydrangea dug up from my husband’s mama’s home is flourishing. The butterflies on the porch that enthrall us don’t last long.
Leave reminders though, reminders of the joy of their presence and the flutter of their wings.
A beautiful song.
“The Lord is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation.” Psalm 118:14 ESV
Something in me longs to find a quiet old church with wooden pews and streams of sunlight in every hue laying down strips of color at my feet on old hardwood floors.
I’m listening, God.
To sit in the quiet. To listen to God.
I’m in the spot I call quiet in my home. It is very quiet, only the mockingbird mama’s protective song in the distance calling for my attention.
I woke thinking about being drawn to the wars others are warring as a distraction to what God knows needs my attention according to Him.
Yesterday, I grabbed a $5 pillow and dropped it in the cart. I sensed my daughter wondering where I’d put it. I’m not one to decorate my home with pillows adorned with trendy sayings. I think I mumbled.
I need to remember this.
See good in all things.
First on the loveseat, then between the bigger ones on the couch, then in my mama’s reupholstered chair, I centered it. It seemed too contrived, a pillow pointing out words I needed to remember, seriously silly.
So, I fluffed a pretty one woven with navy and added it as a background for my much needed words. I angled the pillow to meet my gaze from the place I sit in the evening, the place I begin my day.
The wisdom of a book of lamenting words lining up with mama’s and the embroidery threads on a pillow.
“The Lord is good unto them that wait for him, to the soul that seeketh him. It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord.” Lamentations 3:25-26 KJV
Good comes from waiting, seeking quietly.
Listening.
Remember
Distracted by culture, conflict and confusion, it seems I have made lesser the most important things.
Grace, mercy, peace, surrender.
Attentiveness to God’s purpose for me.
Remembering the gift of redemption.
Living freely.
So that I can be a presence inviting question rather than spewing comments.
Understanding we all have wars within, we are all pulled astray by the personal battles and patterns that deter the transformation that is a witness to the light of God within.
A compelling cause for others to seek salvation.
The salvation that can never be taken from us; but, must be treasured with every breath of our body so that we don’t fall back into warring.
So that we don’t miss the glory of the quiet voice of God in the quiet places.
“for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus,” Romans 3:23-24 ESV
May my quiet confidence in God be more evident than my constant questioning over what is not mine to understand, only be available when called to offer peace in the knowledge of my Savior.
Linking up prompted by FMF, Quiet (smile, Kate likes pillows too).
Seems everyone I know has plans to be a beach-goer this summer or has already gone.
This morning, Facebook invited me to revisit a beach inspired post from four years ago. It was interesting to see how my voice is the same me, just a little more grown.
This afternoon, I procrastinated a commission that’s scaring me and I let the colors blue, white, pink and navy calm me, transport me to the shore.
The room, the little corner behind the sofa where she sews and sits was spiritual, the window towards the water, a warm aura.
The pauses between her words.
“Comfort” “Special” “This is special.”
“Oh, Lisa, these colors.”
I just listened, smiled, watched her hands turn the pages, fingers starting on the corner edges to move slowly down before turning.
I heard her soft sighs.
My aunt, the one known for the phrase “prayer and patience”, was moved by my book, “Look at the Birds”. It was a different response than I expected.
God with us in the room.
A study I’m doing on freedom prompted a thought last week, a question,
“Think back to a time when, because of a family member or friend, you felt seen and known…and truly loved.” In Touch Ministries, Freedom Guidebook.
I added my answer.
“Her hands on the pages felt as if she was caressing me. Her love for who I had become and seeing her being moved by what I was able to do, as if to say, I’ve been watching, praying, loving and now I see you becoming who I knew you were made to be.”
“Aunt Boo” the verbal and physical expression of God’s affirmation.
A children’s book written to help others know their value is just one of the many little things that is changing me.
I pray changing others.
2 year old Elizabeth does this thing now of let’s put all the babies and bunnies and blankets on the floor. “Lay down, Grandma, lay down.” and the fixing of covers and “babies” becomes a distraction from napping. She held “Look at the Birds” today. We didn’t read it. (No way, that might lead to napping). But, she turned the pages and still loves the hawk most of all.
Lots of people think I wrote this book for Elizabeth. It’s just not so. I’m happy she’ll know her grandma wrote a book. But, this book is for all children and babies. It’s my hope every little hand that holds it and listens to “you are worth more” will never ever forget that truth.
Yesterday, I got a message. A child in foster care carried this book to their new home. I pray it’s read often to him by someone. I don’t know this child. I know the special person who gave him a book.
I worry I’m not so good at this book marketing, spreading the message/promotion.
I promise, the knowing I had a part in helping a little boy in foster care believe he is loved.
It is enough, more than.
(The book is available in lots of places. Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Target,Walmart and my website, http://lisaannetindal.me )
“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15:13 NIV
I hope my hope keeps growing.
I hope others see hope in me, my book, my words, my art.
we run away from our discomfort... but it doesn't leave us. to heal we need to turn around and face it, experience it and once we truly do we are out of it. We heal and we grow.
2 Timothy 1:7-8 For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline. This blog is about my Christian walk. Join me for the adventure.
Lisa Anne Tindal 