Day 18/19: looking for good- Post-it verses

courage, Faith, Motherhood, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized

Words of Wisdom: a journey through Psalms and Proverbs

It’s Sunday morning and I’m watching church on TV. It doesn’t happen often; but, I got sick. Not just my normal complaint of back pain, headache, exhaustion…but a real diagnosable condition.

Thankfully, better this morning and my husband says I look rested. Sans makeup, my eyes, he said look brighter.

I needed to rest.

I would not have stopped. I would have continued on my frantic balance of work, family,writing and become grouchier, meaner, more exhausted and annoyed.

So, just last week, I thanked God for my health.

This week, he’s calling me to rest, to actually demonstrate that I cherish my health

It’s one thing to say Thank you, Lord. Quite another to acknowledge that thanks with what God wants. In my case, slow down and rest in Him.

Gratitude needs to be tangible with God. Obedience, lived out. God is good, has good for us when we stop to notice.

Today, I glance at my devotional, filled with pencil notes, dog-eared pages and now tiny little post it tabs. A reminder, a declaration of God’s plan for my pain, my redemption, and my faith.

I know the significance of the tabs.Every page marked holds the place of a verse, an exhortation to write.

Not just write, blog, or post commentary on life.

To write now is to be obedient. To go farther, unsure as I go.

To be obedient in using my story for good. To not be “afraid of failure and uncomfortable with success”, a description that sums up my doubt.

But as for me, how good it is to be near God! I have made the Sovereign Lord my shelter, and I will tell everyone about the wonderful things You do. Psalm 73:28

Day 15: looking for good- birdsongs

Children, Trust

glorious morn

The sun was glorious and bright as I left for work this morning.

The birds were singing. Multitudes, in lyrical beauty.

I had an appointment first thing, a member of our Bereavement group and we talked about grief, efforts and convictions. He noticed my bird feeder outside my window surrounded by tiny little finches and sparrows and he smiled.

He often stops by to ask for clarification or review of our meeting. He is abreast of the most recent research on suicide prevention and is outspoken for suicide prevention in our local community. He has lost most of his hearing and is contemplating cochlear implants.

His daughter, Valerie, whom he misses dearly loved birds. She called every Saturday, from the Midwest.

He anticipated her call, and sat peacefully on the back porch.

It was their ritual, he said.

“Dad, I hear the birds, it’s a glorious morning” she would say.

He would reply, “Oh, yeah, what do they sound like?”

“Everyday, Saturday” he said, smiling, “she told me exactly what the birds were singing and it was special.”

I smiled and thanked him for sharing such a special story, a blessing.

I will open the windows of heaven and pour out a blessing for you. Malachi 3:10

Day 14: looking for good- Apology and Authenticity

courage, Faith, Trust

Day 13, yesterday, of the 31 Days of Writing challenge and the writing became the thing I dread most, a competition, a race, a comparison of lives.

Yesterday’s post was true. It was accurate. It conveyed the facts of the effects of abuse on women. I hit publish and I met my daily goal. That is all, and for me, that’s a shame.

Devoid of emotion though, a big facade for what really occurred between two women with a history of abuse.

To me, it wasn’t even creative… a misuse of the joy of putting words together as a story.

I was able to elaborate to some extent the feelings of remembering abusive behaviors.

My description of the events were true.

A summary is all, though.

If the story had been authentic it may have included details into why I relate so well to a woman afraid to give notice to an angry employer for fear of anger, screaming, disapproval. But, it wasn’t a story of fear or courage, or any emotion really.

It was shallow.

Earlier this week, I had an epiphany of sorts.

I have these often lately. Perhaps it’s my age. Maybe it’s the exposure of such diverse struggle in my job. Probably, my age… chronological and life experience age with a big heaping of godly conviction steadily growing more evident.

I feel good about that conviction.

I care more about truth than approval. More about honesty than popularity.

It seems I’m becoming more and more discerning as to purpose and path.

Guided by God, I am convinced.

My epiphany, my strong and profound, lingering thought involved authenticity.

I proclaimed via Facebook: “I am thinking alot about living authentically and purposefully for God…a commitment to be consistent in living what I believe, to leave a legacy.”

Morbid? No, not for those who know my heart. My sister liked it. She knows my heart.

So, here’s a commitment to self and God: more writing from the heart, unfiltered God-placed stories of grace, of courage, of struggle, of peace and redemption.

Effortless and authentic

Apologies to all who saw right through the empty, although descriptive and articulate words of yesterday.

I’m back on track.

Day 10: looking for good-found and treasured

Faith, rest, Trust, Uncategorized

Today, I watched a little boy kneeling in the grass holding a feather. He held tightly, eyes studying spine in the middle as his tiny fingers rubbed the velvety shape, smoothing it upward. I wondered what he thought. He was captivated by the feather. In a crowd of parade goers, he was intent, his sweet spirit comforted by his found feather.

Last week, I stopped by my parents’ graves in the old hillside family cemetery. I was disappointed to find the grass overgrown and some of the most stately cedar trees either damaged or decaying.

I left a penny on daddy’s grave and replanted pansies for mama. Silly to plant pansies in a clay pot when I’m two hours away? Probably. It’s a tradition, though. Like the penny and a rooster every Christmas.

Visiting the cemetery is a weighty appointment. We either go because we should or we go hoping to connect. It’s a contradiction of love and misery.

Sometimes we leave feeling as sad and afraid as the day we stood, circled with family when we buried our mamas and daddies.

“No one ever tells us grief feels so like fear.” C. S. Lewis

Walking towards my car for the drive back home, I glance over and see a feather, pristine and white with touches of cobalt blue…l placed it tenderly in my lap and drove.

I’ve found three more since. Tomorrow, is the anniversary of my daddy’s death, 16 years ago.

God is good. Small things, big love kind of good.

Be captivated and comforted.

God is good. He has good for us.

Day 9: looking for good – priorities and patience

Children, Motherhood, rest, Trust

There was a Day 8, it was yesterday.

I compiled a set of sentences about a verse in Ecclesiastes reminding me that God’s timing is good, in fact it is perfect. (Ecc. 3:11) My post was brief. It conveyed the value of waiting for God’s best instead of agonizing over the future.

It was a timely blog, because my son and I had visited a college in an effort to choose his next four years. The day had us both worn out. Maybe, we were both rushing ahead of God. By the time I was ready to publish my post, I had decided to take a break from the college talk. I was told to “chill out.”

Sounded good to me.

I could use a break.

All this talk of college and empty nest, of pressure and schools and leaving home had almost erupted earlier anyway. Just a little thing almost made me react uncharacteristically to be that mama who rants about all I’ve done. Not sure what’s more exhausting, thinking about the empty nest or pretending I’ll be okay.

We made it home from the college visit without too much of me “asking too many questions” and we were still good, me seeing him off to workouts with an audible “Love you too” reply.

Something happened when I posted and I ended with a post and a link so I needed to trash one and then there was nothing left but a link that made no sense to me.

Panic ensued, fix this quick before someone sees it!

I was struggling with correcting this link error when my daughter came in plopped down on the couch. My daughter, the amazing teacher who tells me the sweetest stories of her students, a grad student at night. She is determined; but, exhausted last night. She was more than tired, though, she needed an ear. I saw it on her face.

She had a friend who needed to cry earlier so she had listened. She wanted to tell me this story. I half-heartedly listened for a few minutes and caught my self. I know she did too. We do not like to be not “pretend”listened to.

I set the computer aside, turned to face her, listening to more of the story. Then, we both said “Love you, good night” and went to bed.

So, never mind about Day 8, I had bigger priorities than fixing a post, skipping a Challenge Day.

Because Day 8’s verse was so good it is Day 9’s:

He has made everything beautiful in His time. Ecclesiastes 3:11

Day 7: Looking for good – good enough

Faith, Trust

I am blown away by the number of people who blog. Seriously, so many blogs!

Really good-looking blogs all sleek and shiny. Their layouts and their posts, polished and relevant. Normally, this would be the time for me to slip back and say, “Oh, no way I can’t compete, this wasn’t for me”.

I do not like competition. Nor do I care for accolades. I like being me and resting in that.

Competition and comparison take me back to my fat little girl days.

Lined up next up to an array of blogs was beginning to feel like comparing outfits in middle school and hearing “yours looks homemade!”

So, I was thinking today, “Does my blog matter, am I embarrassing myself?”

Maybe I need to focus on a topic of value.

I could blog about a variety of more relevant subjects. Write about things besides my faith and my stories and observations of life and lesson.

I could tell all about the non-profit world of mental health, how to write a grant, how to run a homeless program, and how to listen to a parent who lost a child to suicide. I could recall working in the field of child abuse and I could tell you some stories about families I met and I could tell you even more about my opinions of our flawed child welfare system.

I wondered, would that make a better blogger? Would my stats graph climb higher? Or, maybe if I were more savvy and understood all the widgets and configurations…maybe then I would join the ranks of really good bloggers.

But, that’s not my “quiet confidence, story-teller way of doing things, not my heart.

My blog matters to me even if I only have a few readers. It is a joyous experience for me. An experience that’s a step towards my memoir, something I feel is a God-planted, a prayerful goal. My blog is a commentary for good…for God. It’s my sharing of the good that’s come my way through God and of what good will come.

Like a blank canvas in a sunny room. It is tranquil.

Like brush strokes blending peaceful colors, it flows. It is not toil.

It is good…God-given good.

It is enough…more than enough.

Day 3: Good words: God-given,God shared

Faith, rest, Trust

more boldly, more clearly

Day three of this new, expanding my horizons writing/ linking/ blogging exercise and I woke feeling slightly illiterate in the blogger world. My writing for the past year or so had become a joyous spilling of my soul that was so,so special. Unlike journals scattered all over my house, it felt like a step forward, a tangible and beautiful gift to myself. So, I was thankful to be brave about my writing. It was good for me.

But, this morning to write felt like a “measuring up/attention seeking activity”. I have noticed when I write this way, it’s insincere and nobody may ever know; but, it’s not the work of my heart and soul. We all do it, this attention seeking thing. It’s easy to get sucked into.

I almost gave up; but, then decided, “Hey it’s not really about being one of hundreds who are writing during http://write31days.com/ and having my entries pop up for my blogger companions to see…it’s about that conviction that writing is a God-planted thing, a “don’t want to give this up because it feels God-given good“.

So, I open my devotional to Day Three and I find pencil notes from this date in 2013.

They resonate even more clearly, so I outline the words more clearly, more boldly.

“Cease striving, if it feels like struggle, it’s not for you to handle, it’s for God.”

So, I will continue the 31 Days of Writing: Looking for Good, for God...an exercise in striving less, being more still and letting God determine the eyes that find my words.

Day 4: not sure…I’ll be waiting to see good, God-given good. Not sure if it will pop up on my linky thing. Still, I write.

Only good

Faith, Prayer, rest, Trust

Oh, sovereign Lord we cling to your goodness at day’s end. You are the God who sees us and we will not be swayed to believe you are not good and that you have anything but good for us. We know that you hold the universe in your hands, our lives, our hearts in your grasp. We trust your immeasurable, all-sustaining love despite the visual onslaught to do otherwise. Because your love is so big, beautiful and unchanging we are clinging to your grace and your mercy,as we lean on your everlasting arms. We thank you for loving us when our hearts are hardened, discontent and doubtful. For, you Lord are patient, so patient.In the morning, we will thank you for yet another opportunity to walk more closely, more consistently in love…your love.

In Jesus name,

Amen

Blue day, new day

Faith, Prayer, Trust

Bluest of blue

On Tuesday morning, I walked with purpose. My feet were light and my arms had an intentional rhythm. I was confident and I anticipated each thought, each prayer…what I call a mindful walk.

My steps were sturdy and my stride was assertive. My prayers were my thoughts and my supplications were substantial. I began with “Pride says” …and countered with “Humility says”.

My struggles were spilled from thoughts to prayers in a pattern; much like a pro and con list or a motivational talk. All my obstacles, doubts, fears, comparisons were confessed and transformed by humility. It all made sense.

REFRESHED, RENEWED, REPENTANT

By the time, I got back home, I was clear-headed, enthused, and ready to begin again.

Thursday morning, I laced up my shoes and started off down the road…this time a foggy morning and a woeful mind.

My feet stomped strong and forceful. Two cars rounded the curve and I, annoyed by their nuisance, had to step into the tall grass. My left foot tilted to the side and I felt victimized, imagining the “what if” of falling on the side of the road, my twisted, red, pulsing ankle. I wanted to cry over just the thought of it. Yet, I kept walking, looking for that flow, that dialogue, that peace.

I walked on, interrupted by bird chatter, erratic and hurried and geese making their way towards the water, squawking loudly.

I started a prayer, I started; but, faltered on generic words and empty thoughts. So, I walked towards the turn around spot and started thinking ahead to the demands of the day.

I kept my head forward; kept walking, thinking and mentally bemoaning my life, my wishes it could work outs, my regrets and my comparisons.

I glanced towards a dog barking, looked down and saw a feather, a pristine feather bordered in black and edged in the bluest of blue. I reached down and picked it up, slipped it into my pocket…kept walking, tapping the side of my shorts…feeling for the feather. I walked differently then. I walked, reminded of grace, of presence, of the simplicity of beautiful, constant mercy.

Back home, I prayed…a simple prayer, a different prayer. Feather tucked away in my journal, I prayed, Thank you Lord, for beauty in small things.. for special nods of your presence when my struggles suffocate my prayers.

Thank you, Lord that you are aware…that you tilted my head and changed my focus, that you reminded me of beauty.

The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing. Zephaniah 3:17

Turning the curve, and walking across our front yard, a blue jay settles into the pine and sings its “all is well, begin again tune” and my day proceeds, painted a clear blue hue.

From blessed to bitter…the path of pride

Faith, rest, Trust

My Mary…hands open, patient, content

Have you ever been with a friend who is sharing his or her current challenges, worries or even accomplishments and you tune out and start thinking instead of listening, planning for your turn to say “Oh, that’s nothing compared with what I’m going through”? It’s human nature to connect through sorrow, through joy, through good things. But, sometimes we’re selfishly rehearsing what we’re going to say and we miss the majority of our friend’s conversation. We are about to burst to “top their story”. There is a gift to listening without having to interject any personal tidbit or rant whatsoever. Very few of us are able to do this all of time. Pride joins the conversation. We start to compare our lives to theirs and we come away feeling less than, feeling like life’s unfair, we don’t get what we deserve, and frighteningly, that God is being unfair. If comparison is the thief of joy, surely pride is its partner in crime. When we go from connecting to comparing, then we venture towards discontent and pride. Pride, we know, is destruction.

I’m thinking of Mary and Martha and the excitement of Jesus coming to their home for a visit. The story of Mary and Martha and their reaction to Jesus is a short but mighty story, covering only five verses in Luke, Chapter 10. Verse 38 begins with Martha opening her home to Jesus. Mary greets Jesus adoringly and is, I believe, overwhelmed by his presence. She worships at his feet while Martha is flitting about in the house trying to impress Jesus with all of the preparations she has made and has yet to complete. In verse 40, Martha is so outdone by her sister Mary, she asks the Lord “Don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself. Tell her to help me!” Jesus, of course, gently tells Martha that “few things are needed”, in other words, there is no need for pride, no need for you to outwork or impress me, and I just need your heart, your worship. Imagine having Jesus on the other side of your front door and then to enter into your home; just the thought overwhelms me with hope and a sense of peace. Sadly, imagine Martha angrily telling Jesus “to straighten Mary out”! How then, did Martha so easily go from blessed to bitter? She took her eyes off the blessing of Jesus’ gift of a visit and turned her focus to self. She went from feeling blessed to being bitter in the same way we so often do. She compared her situation to another’s. She kept an account of her effort versus her sister’s. She was prideful.

Be careful when comparisons lead to conflict, when discontent leads to discouragement, when bitterness leads to betrayal. Pride is the path that obstructs the view of grace and of gratitude. Pride blurs the glory of God, of his presence in our everyday. So, next time you have the chance to hear about the good things a friend or one of her children (this is my thorn) has been blessed by God to receive, remind yourself not to compare. Remind yourself not plan how you can get just as much as more or why good things never happen to you even though you work so hard. Remember, comparison is the thief of joy and pride is its partner in crime.

	Lisa Brittain on Women of Faith
	Lisa Anne Tindal on Women of Faith
	smoker4mom on Women of Faith
	juliedibblewrites on Embracing
	Lisa Anne Tindal on Shine On