Who I Am, Alone

Faith, family, grace, praise, Prayer, rest, Salvation, Trust, Uncategorized

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Who I am, alone, the one who believes.

Perhaps, I thought…strongly perhaps, the thing we who believe should do is to believe more assuredly, more unwaveringly and more amenable to others maybe curious.

Perhaps, our beliefs unchangeable should display such a peace that others might come close enough to wonder why we’ve not budged, why we’re unphased by harsh and horrible accusation, rant or interpretation.

Not an expert in doctrine, not necessary, just simply a consistent thinker of thought, believer of my beliefs and faithfulness in my faith.

Who I am when alone, the most valid measure of my faith I’ve decided.

The morning after a wedding celebration, I drove home alone with a Sunday morning mix of quiet and jubilant on a road I’d never traveled.

It was phenomenal.

fullsizerender-21_kindlephoto-20427290 Scanning static and station,I settled on Southern gospel praise with a boom boom rhythm about “Not lettin’ the devil steal my peace.. not my joy… not my soul…no, no, no…I’m not gonna let him take my peace!”

My shoulders falling in a lean one side to the other and my free hand pumping with a confident keepin’ time.

My soul free and easy, my thoughts open and thankful.

Then quiet, just moving through blue sky country towards home and noticing everything; I thought of stopping to see for longer,

A church on a grassy hill, a tree lined stretch of glorious shade and a cotton field gazed upon through open window.

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This morning, I’m back to early morning with Bible in my lap.

I read from Jeremiah; then a Psalm followed by two chapters in Romans.

Providence in word from Old and New.

The place of promise is revealed through faith.

It depends on faith and rests on grace. Romans 4:16

A return to the place my soul bare and at rest in simple yet astounding grace.

Because of faith.

In the quiet of morning and alone, I understood more than before.

I believe it shows.

My faith unmoved with noise of our day.

So unmoved and undaunted, perhaps inviting question.

It Will Lift

courage, Faith, grace, Motherhood, praise, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Seek the Lord and his strength. Seek his presence continually. Psalm 105:4

She called me her sister, although we’re cousins.

She told me it’s all “about to lift”,

These burdens I been totin’.

I believe her.

Because she’s wise and she’s faithful and faith-filled and has carried some pretty big loads of questions, doubt, and questioning of not good enough, done enough, been enough

herself.

I’ll be looking for you Jesus. I’ll keep my hand uplifted in trust.

I’ll maybe not notice right away; but, I’ll sense it and my heart will sing.

A slight smile will rest on my face and the blue of my eyes will shine again.

As my shoulders sigh with relief, oh yes…

It has lifted.

Mail: prompt for five minutes of writing

Faith, grace, Prayer, Trust, Uncategorized

Black pen, quiet morning, and thoughts on God’s call for my life

Every morning I write myself a letter. I fill margins with wise words, encouragement and deploring of God submissions.

I’d like to believe and since faith is believing what I can’t see but, knowing it true somehow…

that God sees my journal and like the sound of the mailman’s truck pausing three houses down, stopping next door and

making its way out front; He hears and bends to gather my mail.

Oh, Lisa is praying, let me turn to open her letter. Let me read of her gratitude and consider her needs.

Let me pause to hear her heart and lead her to my reply as she opens my love letter, my word.

http://katemotaung.com/2016/10/13/five-minute-friday-mail/

Wearing my Cross

Faith, grace, praise, Prayer, Salvation, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Most days I wear it. It’s a simple gold cross, slightly curved on one side to help me know whether I’ve clasped it correctly.

A gift from my husband on a golden rope chain, it’s my cross.

Don’t remember when or where; but, not long ago I read an article by some well known theologian who questioned the habit of cross wearing.

He was curious about the wearers of crosses, big chunky gold or silver ones dangling like anchors around thick necks, fancy diamond faceted jeweled worn by fancy ladies, and delicate pendants presented to little girls.

He wondered if we all realized we were adorning ourselves with death’s symbolic charm.

It’s been months since I read this. I wear my necklace anyway, thinking “It’s important to me, I love it.”

This morning I read the story of the Samaritan Woman again.

Familiar with the narrative reminding me of Shakespeare’s young character marked with letter “A”, the imagery in the telling is one of the clearest.

A woman ashamed because she’s surrendered to the desires of multiple men finds herself caught off guard and meets Jesus.

She chose a time no one would be around to draw water from the well when the others had ventured into nearby city.

Jesus approached her and asked for water. Then he talked with her. Standing next to her, just the two of them, had a conversation about her life.

He told her about “living water” and about himself, The Messiah.

She left him, amazed that he knew her and still took time to have her know him.

She told everyone she could then, all of Samaria.

“Come, see a man who told me all that I ever did. Can this be the Christ?” John 4:29

Sometime later, she and those she told would hear of his horrific and sacrificial death on the cross.

For her, for them, us, me.

I’d love to know if back then, the ladies of Samaria wore crosses. I doubt that they did. I believe the times and the garb were simple, more functional and not at all fancy.

If they did, I envision the woman who met Jesus at the well wearing a cross, discreetly tucked under thickness of layers, her hand reaching to find it and remember mercy.

Death too; but, mercy more.

I think she’d remember the unexpected and life-changing encounter, the “no secrets here, you are loved and known” not so chance meeting.

I’ll reach for my bracelet, wedding rings and gold pendant with simple cross as I get ready for meetings today.

I’ll find my fingers touching the cross and I’ll be assured that mercy’s still there

And be thankful it found me at my worst.

I’m linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee to Tell His Story. Her beautiful image of a child’s feet blessed me today and prompted me to pray for Haiti.

Read it here: http://jenniferdukeslee.com/stand-haiti-one-way-make-big-difference-today/

Eighteen Years Today

Children, courage, family, grief, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Daddy and I

Yesterday I uttered, “Grief is insidious and mean.” when my cousin told me about her loss, her husband’s loss of his mother.

Grief is insidious.

It’s sneaky and mean. It lingers long.

It slips away quietly and comes back without invitation.

Today, eighteen years ago, my daddy died.

18 years is a long time. It’s a span that allows little boy to become a man, little girl to become beautiful wife and a daughter to become more brave.

We shouldn’t be surprised by grief over people of such significance, our mamas our daddies, sisters, brothers, sons, daughters, cousins or friends.

Our immeasurable love and connection deserve nothing less than a significant remembering, even if hard, heavy and solemn.

So, today I grieve my daddy well and with significance in my gaze towards the world around me.

I look for him. See him in my children and in me. Know him in my thoughts, reactions and stubborn mindset.

Grief is onerously huge; but, I won’t sink into its miry isolation.

I’ll let it be big today…as big as it wants.

A heaping measure equivalent to my love.

Big but not scary…just big enough to never forget.

My cousin texted me just now. Today’s her mama’s birthday. She really misses her, she added. I texted her back, in awe of God’s timing, both of us grieving over a parent.

“I have had grief on my mind since we talked yesterday and today, 18 years ago, daddy died. My thoughts were, grief is huge…how on earth can we expect any different when we are flesh of their flesh and after all, love is so big!? It’s bigger than fear and I will choose to make it bigger than grief. Happy Birthday in Heaven, Aunt Birdie!!!”

Grief, be big today.

As big as love and its lessons.

Lessons like never lie, quiet people are thinking people and words aren’t always necessary just for the sake of talking.

My daddy was a quiet man.

Sunday, Light with Song

courage, Faith, grace, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, wonder

We had rain, mostly drizzly sideways sheets and wind. The violent storm not nearly as destructive for us as for many.

Still, the storm had come through. Left me grateful for the mercy of its path; but, dwelling on how bad it might have turned and turned out to be.

I skipped church on Sunday searching for more solitude in service. Found sanctuary of everything out in the open to be seen or kept inside. Yet, the doors flung wide in welcome.

The trees, their pine needles and leaves swiff, swiff, swiff and swaying a sweet subtle song. Unison, the song in my ears reminding of love, mercy and all will be well.

Not another soul out this morning to meet me on the path, to walk towards me in intrusive greeting or half-hearted hello.

No need to answer how my week had been, to bring up request or to discuss things concerning or concerned over. My concerns, I held close. They were enough for me to know.

How free I felt, the sermon, a promise of redemption. Vast and open, opportunity ahead, my steps were intentional and seeking of light.

Sunlight in new place, spilling through from heavenly hand opened to persuade me.

Turn this way. Look here. See, it’s here. It’s new and light and overwhelmingly, surprisingly better than you thought.

Next Sunday, I’ll sing a special and the next I’ll teach small children.

Today was just me by myself drawing near to listen and to capture again His light.

Renewed for today.

And the day to come. This time for you, you were right in choosing.

Now, go on, there’s more.

It’s up ahead.

Walking Towards Knowing

courage, Faith, grace, Trust, Uncategorized

Writing, based on Five Minute Friday word, TEST:

Up around this curve or the next is understanding.

Like most things, it’s a maintenance thing with me, the holding onto any pattern of positive for any stretch of time.

Something will get my attention, jar me back towards steadfastness; I’ll lift my shoulders and prepare to push through with a not gonna get me down attitude.

But, it’s the staying in that place and on that course that wears me out, flat out and flat.

Walking with less assertive ownership of the prize, I plod to the place where the assignment is complete and the lesson learned.

Up ahead, around the next curve, or maybe the next there will be clarity, splendid clarity.

Forgetting what lies behind and moving towards what’s ahead…Philippians 3:13

Mighty and Well

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

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I saw them twice tonight, the geese that give me pause and give me reason.

I planted my pansies in pretty pots today and thought of my grandma.

Fragile little faces on tender stems, purple, lavender, yellow and a rich burgundy; I dug little holes and crowded them in all clustered together like a crazy extended family.

The hurricane will bring rain and heavy wind this weekend; but, I planted anyway.

I soaked them real good and thought I’ll move them to the garage should the storm get rough.

The geese flew over, twenty or so, as I pushed the wheelbarrow back to its spot.

I’ve not seen so many before, they must sense a storm. I took my hands off the wooden wheelbarrow handle, turned as they flew into the distance and I prayed.

Opened one hand toward heaven as the storm cooled air brushed my face, I said

“Trust.”

The Lord your God is in your midst,
mighty one who will save…

Zephaniah 3:17

Someone I don’t know commented to me about our storm here in S.C. as we shared thoughts on not enough time for writing.

Told her, “My weekend’s full, I’m watching the storm and my son’s home from college.”

She left a reply, “Oh goodness, Father, keep them safe. May this time be one where they look back and see your mighty hand. Amen.”

I’m praying in agreement, that this storm and this time will be one we look back on see your mighty hand, God.

That we understand you as protector with purpose.

I thought to tell her, “There’s more storm now than a tropical threat of flood.”

There was a call and a crisis and now the aftermath.

There was a time to be thankful all is well and to ponder what could have been worse.

So, I walked with dogs like usual, I planted my pansies and I looked towards the sky altered by pressure.

And another bunch of geese, a few lagging behind flew over and it was good.

It was good for me to walk as on any other day, to see that all is well.

A bunch of geese, five of them…nothing majestic or awesome; yet, a mighty sweet sight and a sign of all very well.

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/knowing-god-sees-changes-everything-book-giveaway/

Three Feathers, one Pristine

courage, Faith, grace, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

Found these three today.

Message from Heaven

I found one, then a second in the yard behind the shelter.

Said, “Here you take this one” and gave it to Serina.

She smiled, said “I’ll keep it, Miss Lisa.”

We took a few steps together, both of us looking towards our toes and I saw another, small and pristine.

I knew it then.

Everything will be fine.

A message from my mama.

Coffee and Restoration with a side of Sunshine

Faith, grace, praise, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Surely, I’ll be less pitiful today. I woke up knowing I must redeem myself from yesterday’s miserable mood!

Surely, I’ll remember last night’s sky and go into today feeling optimistic.

This was my waking thought.

Prayer and coffee after fitful sleep

The first thing I see on Tuesday is a request to pray for Haiti.

So, I do. I pray silently for a place and a people I’ll most likely never see.

Yet, children there fear things I can’t fathom and what they hold in their hands is just a tiny morsel compared to the excess I claim as mine.

The storm is headed their way. I glance towards my coffee.

I pray it doesn’t destroy them.

I pray for my friend, the secret request in my envelope.

Some days I’m sunshine, others I’m a pessimistic shadow of impending distress.

Tuesday feels better already simply because I prayed for others. Holy Spirit, bend me towards your way and ripen the fruits of my spirit today. May I be abundant in your produce.

I flip the pages of my Bible heading to Philippians; but, stopping at Corinthians.

I go and refill my coffee, get distracted by the dogs’ refusal to pee and then wait, staring out the window.

The overgrown tower of green stalks, brown on the bottom has decided to bloom just like he said they would when I asked,

“When are you gonna cut that dead mess down?” “Not yet.” he said, pointing to the buds with tiny specks of yellow.

I walked slowly outside to see the bright yellow blooms reaching up high.

I see, now they’ve bloomed.

There was still something good to come from the old brown stalks overtaking the fence.

Still good there, bright like sunshine. New like the day.

For we are glad when we are weak and you are strong.

Your restoration is what we pray for. II Corinthians 13:9

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