Uncategorized

What Are You Hoping For?

Abuse Survivor, Angels, Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, hope, memoir, mercy, Prayer, Redemption, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, writing

I turned to Proverbs.

A thing I used to do, one a day corresponding with the date.

Proverbs 13 begins with talk of integrity and wisdom and continues to a verse I’ve heard and read before.

“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life.”

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭13:12‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I stayed there a minute. I quickly underlined the verse then decided I’m not really sure I understand the word, “defer”.

I google to see.

I discovered I’ve been wrong all along, thinking defer is like an out of my control detour caused by circumstance.

Actually, it’s not that at all!

What are you hoping for? What are you heartsick over?

Hope deferred is a goal discarded, a dream, a treasure you’ve decided was not a part of God’s measure.

That maybe, after all, His provision of what it takes to follow through, He just ran out of that inspirational juice when He got to you.

What a crazy thought. His love never ends. His providence is immeasurable.

That’s not up for us to decide. Who can fathom the mind of God?

Hope deferred, postponed or cancelled like on the back burner plans,

makes our hearts sick.

I rise now and I shall go and sit at my desk rather than my morning spot. I will work on the pending words that represent just one of my hopes.

I won’t put off my hope today

Nor, tomorrow. My April newsletter will continue. (sign up form popped up here, hopefully 😊)

What are you postponing, forgetting, deciding “not God’s plan” when we really mean I simply don’t believe.

Don’t defer your hope.

Continue and believe.

Desire fulfilled is a tree of life. Proverbs 13:12

The Gift of Memory

Angels, bravery, Children, confidence, contentment, courage, daughters, Faith, family, grace, hope, memoir, mercy, obedience, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Stillness, surrender, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

A friend is praying that God would give me memory.

I’ve lost something I haven’t needed in years and I cannot find it, my college diploma.

Yesterday, my pregnant daughter asked if I remembered a certain pain and I didn’t, so I blamed it on one thing I did remember harshly…when it was actually another, my lack of memory,

Then told her it’s true what they say.

You don’t remember the pain once your baby is here.

I’m wondering if my friend’s prayers are stirring my memories as a whole, of all sorts of things.

I woke with first thought, prayer.

God, help me to know you more.

There are disjointed possibilities in my life, a new one popped up yesterday. I gotta circle back around, finish multiple things, my mind and plans chaotic over stuff begun and not finished

My thoughts are all over the place.

I make the coffee, open the door for fresh air and I remember.

“If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him.”

‭‭James‬ ‭1:5‬ ‭ESV‬‬

An elderly couple lived below us, my younger brother and me. We were not quiet apartment dwellers. We were single and in our 20’s. We frequented “River Street” in Savannah and found our way back home safely, how?

God only knows.

I watched them on Sundays, they’d come and go clutching Bibles, holding hands.

I avoided them in my comings and goings until one day in the stairwell, I came face to face with the husband, a sharply dressed gentleman.

I asked, “How can I know God’s will?”

He answered simply, “Know God.”

That was two decades ago and his answer left me hanging, left me lacking not longing. I wanted so much more than an answer so broad.

I desired a quick list or an easy plan.

I wanted it “one and done” for me, quickly fix me, God, I know you can!

Perfection, I yearned for, had no understanding of grace, God’s patience, His allowance of progression.

How in the world could we imagine God’s will as only quick when, after all, He has us and the whole world in His hands? He orders our seconds, minutes, hours and days. Their unfolding, He knows.

I understand the simplicity yet mystery now.

His pursuit of me is graceful and grace-filled.

There’s no end road to knowing God’s will.

It is a beautiful unraveling, a revealing of splendor and clarity and abundance as we go.

As we go unaffected by our daze and confusion only illumined by His spirit, His dwelling within us.

How do we know God’s will? I believe we remain quietly intent in our pursuit of Him.

He knows. Just ask Him.

God is everywhere. Don’t forget to notice. me

Linking up today with others at Five Minute Friday who are writing on the prompt “Lack”. https://fiveminutefriday.com/2019/04/11/fmf-writing-prompt-link-up-lack/

Lace and Roses

Abuse Survivor, birds, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, grace, hope, memoir, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Stillness, surrender, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

“And there was evening and there was morning, the third day.”

‭‭Genesis‬ ‭1:13‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Pink Happy Morning

I’d love to know all the birds by name, be able to identify them by their conversation, their song.

A cardinal intruded politely on a catch up session with friends yesterday. We were laughing and agreeing on our take on things when it happened.

It flew in front of us, a brilliant display. I announced, “a red bird”. They smiled, knowing my story and because they both know I’d never say “cardinal”, not the proper way.

I woke this morning not as I planned, 5:00 a.m and I had it all mapped out in my mind, finish what you started last night when both you and your printer stalled.

Instead, three times slapping at the 6:30 bell, I slumbered well.

Prepared my coffee grounds to discover my French press is not going press the way it’s supposed to again today.

I turn towards the birdsong remembering my mornings before, let the Lab out, notice the coming day.

I miss him, I miss those days.

Touching the morning, allowing it to touch me.

So, I stepped out to pay attention.

I noticed mist, a lacy veil above the moist green grass, the sky, a pale pink horizon and roses are early bloomers, startling red!

Back inside to correct the coffee, I leave the door open to listen, allowing the morning to come in.

Settled in my morning spot with little time to sit, I think and say it again.

Lord, order my day. Amen

The geese are on their way to the pond. I hear them.

Hear my mama, “Here they come!”

Begin again, start again. Rise and walk new ways.

God knows your hopes, mercy leads the way. Follow the sure pattern, soar with ease and sure direction.

Faith.

Continue and believe.

Beyond Comprehension

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, memoir, Redemption, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

In the midst of an unexpected prayer. One not timely or ritual.

I realized as I spoke my thoughts,

a prayer.

Faith is not something comprehensible.

Faith is continuing while lacking understanding.

Faith is a commitment to things like love and possibility,

the deep down wish it weren’t so undeniable hope that holds out for what might be.

I want to hold out, love when love is not logical.

Believe when there’s no evidence of payoff for my belief.

I want my faith to be my noticeable default.

Learning as I Go

Abuse Survivor, Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, Forgiveness, freedom, memoir, mercy, Redemption, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I’ve been productive. I am into Pinterest again and if I was successful, my readers can “pin” my pics if they so desire. I am out with the Executive LinkedIn and in with the new season…artist, writer, leap of faith taker!

I attended a writer’s conference yesterday and found it super beneficial. I highly recommend them, Serious Writers Academy. It was small, there was conversation, there was no competition or need to be farther along or better than. The facilitators were outspoken, funny and expert. There were important take aways for me. 

Engaging with others who need to believe in redemption, not need or even want to know me… is what I believe is God’s plan for me and my story. So, I’ll be making myself engaging and relatable. 

I have a relevant story someone may be searching for. 

Today, I heard the song by Casting Crowns, “Only Jesus”. The lyrics that proclaim I don’t want to leave a legacy, don’t want people to remember me…only Jesus. I’m glad Jesus knows most proclamations of such are pretty tough for us. So tough for me I told Him so, said I don’t really know how that’s supposed to be for me. I have no idea how to do what I do for you.

I continued on, decided to just do what I can today. So, committed I have been this afternoon. Readers can pin my pics, someone may connect with me on LinkedIn. I corrected Mailchimp just in time for next week’s newsletter, the first in the “Redemption Series”. 

It’ll begin this way… 

I ran just as far as I could, moved away from him and had big plans. He found me and well, I knew I’d never try running again. 

Don’t worry, it’s only the intro that’s about me. I’m fascinated with Hagar and how she came to be with Sarah and then ran away once, thrown away the second. She was found by God, the God who saw her. 

The preacher, this morning taught us through David and Psalm 61. Taught of how we are much like David, how resting is trusting and he added,

“We are all learning as we go.”

I paused at the recollection of yesterday. I had decided the very same thing. I am learning about writing. I am learning about the need to branch out, hold hands with others, how my story in a way depends on them. How they might unbeknownst to me, be depending on me as I depend on HIM. 

Although I am a victim, I am no expert on trauma recovery. I know the lingo, I understand the flight or fight. I know how triggers creep in. I know how damaging before can be to now. I understand the pull of hanging on to harsh resentment, fear, and unforgiveness. 

I also know mercy and though I don’t fully understand it. I know it is irrevocable, the offer I accepted to believe in the life of Jesus and in His death redeeming all my damage and the damage done to me. 

I know mercy more every day. Will know even more tomorrow. 

I have a few hundred followers, some know me as a believer. Others might only wonder, might see the hints I give. 

I don’t understand how to live for “only Jesus”. I don’t suppose it is meant for me to work that in a fully understood plan. I suppose it is meant for me to invite as many others as I can close enough to read my story and to understand mercy as the balm for their trauma.

A mercy that doesn’t require perfection, a mercy that will never say no. 

Subscribe to hear more of this “Redemption Story” Email me if you have comments, I’d love to hear your redemption story. 

Continue and Believe

Save

Know What?

Uncategorized

I woke up and asked myself a hard question.

Is being known for my writing more important than God? Has writing become my shiny thing, my idol?

Jesus knew people. Knew their intent, their hearts, their broken paths towards whatever was important to them.

I smile when I imagine Him teaching, redirecting those around Him, in His own way saying, “Hey, you know what?”

My friend, Judy tells a story about her grandson. As a toddler, he prefaced every sentence with “You know what?” I think he may be in college now and I’m thinking this young man is surely wise.

We learn as we go.

What I’m learning in these days of trying to continue and believe are small, tiny hard lessons. Naturally, they feel enormous to me. But, they are teeny tiny when I consider all the good God has made possible for me.

The widow had two coins. I imagine her approaching Jesus through the rich and condescending, more successful donors. She gave her all to Jesus, unphased by them. Jesus gladly accepted her all and she wasn’t concerned with anything other than her significance in Him. There’s a lesson here; bypass the critics, bypass the false encouragers. Go straight with your gift to Jesus and place it in the palm of His hand. Repeat as you are able. Give from what He gives you. Little is much in the eyes and hands of our Father!

“While Jesus was in the Temple, he watched the rich people dropping their gifts in the collection box. Then a poor widow came by and dropped in two small coins. “I tell you the truth,” Jesus said, “this poor widow has given more than all the rest of them. For they have given a tiny part of their surplus, but she, poor as she is, has given everything she has.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭21:1-4‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Jesus knew I needed to be reminded today that what I have to offer might be met by scoffing, even laughter in the eyes of others more lofty, farther along than I.

I’m taking some things off my plate today. I’m making every effort to make my gift of writing small again.

Thank you for the redirection, God. When I give to others seeking affirmation or notice, I may be rejected. My contribution may be seen as too small, my presence may be unwelcome. Thank you for your words which lead to me making sense of mine. Thank you for the courage to keep giving it all, my small gifts, my very few coins. Because of mercy, Amen

Questions and Bullets

Uncategorized

My Bible flipped to the place where the verse I call “life” resides.

I’m afraid I’m guilty of pulling out content that fits whatever fits my mind’s contextual angst.

I believe God knows my ways.

Today I focused on mercy and grace, the verse that comes right after a chastising people who fled in their unwillingness to believe what God gave to be their salvation.

I made two lists with bullets and questions this morning and it started, that pressure creeping up heavy, fire in my chest.

I’m in a pivotal time.

I could continue and believe and be quietly confident or I could tuck tail and run, falling apart and making a scene.

Because there are some things I’m uncertain of, panic I internalize.

I glanced just now towards the blue feather I saved in the middle.

A verse underlined with a bracket on the edge…the heading, “A Rebellious People”.

“And now, go, write it before them on a tablet and inscribe it in a book, that it may be for the time to come as a witness forever.”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30:8‬ ‭ESV‬‬

The thought of it jumped off the page, the word rebellion.

I wondered if God’s words through Isaiah about stubborn people who were unwilling to hear God’s instruction

Were God’s words to me this morning.

Is it rebellious of me not to believe? Am I stubborn and panicked when the timing is not my way? Have I forgotten how he led them to safety and goodness.

Have I forgotten how He has led and kept me?

Don’t I remember the times before?

Is God saying, you are meant for keeping records of all this and of before?

That for someone now and for many others to come, it will be a witness of me through your struggles and your surrender?

Your remembering I am gracious and waiting to show mercy is a remembrance worth sharing through words, don’t you see it, Lisa?

Question marks are still there, next to tasks and challenges to consider.

I’m leaving them now to go church and worship. Be surprised again by what God is going to tell me.

I’ll leave the anxious list for now, the bulleted questions.

They’ll be waiting for later or tomorrow and I’ll know more clearly the way, I know.

“He will surely be gracious to you at the sound of your cry. As soon as he hears it, he answers you. And though the Lord give you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, yet your Teacher will not hide himself anymore, but your eyes shall see your Teacher. And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it,” when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left.”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30:19-21‬ ‭ESV

Wounded and Believing

Abuse Survivor, Art, bravery, contentment, courage, Faith, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, hope, memoir, mercy, painting, Redemption, Salvation, surrender, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

Thank you, Jesus

There’s a sliver of a wound on the inside of my index finger.

Rather than take the clear path only a few steps away I stepped towards the corner.

Took the risky way, the rebellious path.

Awaiting the New

The asparagus fern from last summer had been put away, covered in pine straw, protected.

From a distance, I saw vibrant green peeking through.

I am impatient for the new season.

So, I squeezed up next to the porch and gingerly pushed about the branches of not yet blooming roses.

Then left the fern, after all, it may be too early, we’ve not yet had the “Easter snap”.

I looked down and saw the stream of deep dark red and felt the sting of the injury from the thorn that caused me to be cornered.

I paused to dab my finger against my shirt, only temporarily stopping the flow.

I continued on my mission, needing to get my pansies into the dirt.

Rain was forecasted, I needed them ready and waiting for the pour down from heaven.

Beautiful Belief

The blood continued to flow from the place the thorn broke the skin, now all mottled with black soil.

It was the dirt after all that stopped the bleeding. Dirt crammed beneath my nails and clogging up the gash of my finger’s wound.

I thought of Jesus.

Thought of how so often I am hesitant to speak His name in public. Thought of expressions like

Less Lisa, More Jesus

Thought of the power of the sound of His name and how I keep it to myself as if the magnitude of His name might upset our rooms.

Sometimes I only hint at the reality of Jesus.

Deciding others will find out on their own.

As if accidentally maybe perhaps or hope so

Someone will just know that we know Him and maybe ask if it is so and hey, tell me why I should know the one you know…

(Sermon to self here. Please just know.)

I thought of the thorns they placed on His head in a sarcastic cynical crown.

I thought of how eventually his blood became mixed in with his sweat, the grime of his sacrifice, the mixture of it all.

Love and death.

For me.

For us all.

I thought last night about this love I am not required to earn.

Thought about Jesus fulfilling God’s purpose, Jesus obeying the Father, a sinless obedient Son.

I am thinking now of the miracle of me, the miracles I have seen, the ones I’ve yet to see.

The ones that I will never know.

That are yours! Not mine to see.

Way too many to comprehend.

Jesus let Thomas put his hand in the place where the spear cut open His side. Told him he was blessed because he believed.

Added how significant it is not to see and yet, believe.

The measures Jesus took and takes to get us to believe are simply too much to me!

Too much to fathom why sometimes I don’t believe.

And yet, like Thomas.

He is still there for me.

Still telling me,

Peace be with you. John 20:26  Believe.

The Book of John ends with a beautiful thought, the truth of the ever astounding and amazing love of Jesus.

“Now there are also many other things that Jesus did. Were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.”

‭‭John‬ ‭21:25‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I understand. Yesterday, I thought of all my journals, all my haphazard prayers, intentional supplications, and all the countless recoveries and redemptive interventions Jesus has brought to my life.

I believe in Jesus, not because I’m educated in this way.

I believe because of all He has shown me because of my believing.

Like Thomas and the others, I believe because he gave me chance after chance to see.

The little slice of the wound from the thorn is still open today. Soon, it will be closed over, no sting or tinged color of pale red. Soon, the insignificant wound will be healed.

I’m thankful for the sharp thorn, the red flow that lingered.

To be reminded of believing.

To be less attentive to my wounds and more open to you.

Linking up with Mary Geisen and others at Tell His Story:

The Walk to the Cross

Like Honey

contentment, family, fear, hope, Peace, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Slow Stroll with Colt and Camellia

It was a good weekend. A Saturday stroll with the dog home with my son for the weekend, my daughter doing well, her mood and her cheeks have a beautiful “baby glow”.

Monday came and by the end of the day in a matter of about 45 minutes, the mood in my heart’s room, in my thoughts, deep in my soul turned.

I tried to make sense of my jittery breathing, the aching sense of deep hole in my soul.

It was a piling up of things, a compilation of wonderful and woeful things.

I saw a woman at “TJ” who looked like my mama. I found a photo of me with my newborn daughter. I began to wonder if I could ever be as good a grandmother as she was to my daughter, my son. I asked my son for a second hug before he returned to his adult abode and world.

I held on to the dog and then watched as he walked towards the door, as if saying, “this is not my home”.

My paintings unsold, all laid out earlier on the floor.

There was a conversation about my age.

All over the place things left me no space.

Stole the joy of my day. Took my breath away.

That’s it. Now I understand.

I had no vacant space to catch my breath, no time to let it settle.

Simple, just too much on my plate!

And then kindness occurred.

A friend understood, she has felt the same and then more kind words of three or four others.

I expect to rest well this evening.

My soul, my thoughts and my body.

Will take time for balanced breath.

A honey-like pouring rhythm of soft exhales.

“Kind words are like honey— sweet to the soul and healthy for the body.”

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭16:24‬ ‭NLT‬‬