Uncategorized

Sky and Bloom

Abuse Survivor, birds, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, hope, kindness, memoir, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, surrender, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

“Catch the foxes for us, the little foxes that spoil the vineyards, for our vineyards are in blossom.”

‭‭The Song of Solomon‬ ‭2:15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Cold in a way I had no idea, I removed the soft heavy blanket and because the birds had begun to sing, I turned and saw the sky behind me, bright with pink.

Longing to see more and to see with a more private view I ventured to the backyard.

Bare feet on crunchy frozen grass, my steps became a dance and rather than staring towards the sky I became captivated by the camellias.

Pink, I decide is the color of vibrance and optimism. Some petalled balls fallen from the branches and in varying stages of change, some clinging gloriously and a few yet to bloom.

I pray we don’t get the icy days we southerners disdain.

I pray the terminal frost that curtails the continued growth stays away.

Because, the camellias this winter have blossomed in grander and more undeniable ways.

Or is it my notice that has changed?

Has a sense of hopeful curiosity begun to enlighten my belief?

Changing doubtful speculation to committed curiosity over things that might finally be?

Things I believe are for me, abilities and opportunities designed by God.

I am beginning to trust it might be, that I will see.

Jesus has seen me and is pleased in my growing understanding of Him.

Mercy is becoming more than “Christiany” expression tacked on in hopes to gain acceptance.

Mercy, I am finally seeing.

Is for me.

Jesus, leaving Jericho heard the desperate cries of two blind men sitting on the side of the road.

Their sense of hearing compensated for their inability to see and so, they cried out loudly to Jesus asking for mercy. The crowds chastised them, these pitiful men positioned on their way.

How dare they ask to be seen, much less to be able to see?

Have you felt this way?

Felt that according to God and to others, you should stay in your place, why on earth would you believe there could be grander things to see?

The blind men must have been desperate, must have been shouting.

Jesus paused for them.

He asked them what it was they needed.

Jesus wanted to hear their deepest need.

“And stopping, Jesus called them and said, “What do you want me to do for you?” They said to him, “Lord, let our eyes be opened.” And Jesus in pity touched their eyes, and immediately they recovered their sight and followed him.”

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭20:32-34‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Yesterday, I sat anchored by weighted rice bags on my abdomen and thighs, the sense of settled safety, I was seeking.

I joined in my friend’s “Midweek Mindfulness” and loosened up the places where my stress had made its abode.

Anchored and waiting, eyes closed in meditation, I struggled to be still, to stay composed.

Surely, this will soon be over, I don’t know how much longer I can hold this pose and I can’t think of a single additional thing to let go and I’ve prayed my prayers and I’ve focused my focus…

Then she begins to speak of curiosity and I naively conclude she’s done this solely for me.

It actually could be.

I listen and decide curiosity is a worthy mindset, not one curtailed by pessimism or conclusions to my stories, rather a careful and hopeful, continuous pursuit.

The blind men could have chosen what they’d always chosen, likely just being careful to stay out of the way

Instead they decided to be brave, to be curious about Jesus and to give new sights a try.

This morning beckoned me out onto the cold January ground and led me to see beauty, not only in the morning sun but in the blooms fallen and fading making way for new.

I get emotional over a couple of lines in a pretty song. The voice is captivating, tender and true.

She makes a quiet and sure proclamation over her soul and unknowingly, mine.

She sings, “the foxes in the vineyard will not steal my joy!”

It is a tender song, inspired by the verses from the Song of Solomon, a book that reads like poetry, sonnets and splendidly passionate love.

Good to Me

What are the “foxes” in your vineyard? What present or past or based on your own predictions is set on stealing the joy you’ve begun to get a tiny taste of?

Exchange the sly intentions of the evil one committed to keeping you back for the mercy of the merciful one who asks.

What do you want me to do for you? Jesus

Speak of your need despite others silencing your curiosity.

Believe mercy will always meet it, always meet you.

Lift your eyes to the hills.

Your help will come.

Continue and believe.

I’m linking up with other writers at Tell His Story. https://marygeisen.com/in-the-middle-of-winter-guest-post/

https://marygeisen.com/the-one-word-that-almost-wasnt/

What Can Be

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, freedom, grace, grief, hope, memoir, mercy, obedience, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Peace is possible.

I almost interjected this possibility to one and then to another.

One distraught and rightly so, I listened and became exhausted over my lack of anything I may be able to do.

I sat and simply took it all in.

Her dismayed lack of peace.

Another so burdened by wrongs and unable to live without fear, so protective and unbelievably afraid yet so very ready for something to change.

Both unable to know what might change their directions, what might help them understand the unfairness of their fate.

I have no real answers other than the three words seemingly from nowhere that are clinging to me and I, clinging to them.

Continue and believe.

I’m prone to storing up my interactions, sort of disengaging emotionally as I am present in my professional role and yet, the stories linger and they don’t stay buried for long.

I believe that is God’s way, to not waste any exchange meant for me to grow, to continue on and give words to feeling, maybe help another to grow.

I wanted to tell the mother grieving and in dismay that I still believed God is faithful and that I believed she could have some peace. But, I didn’t. It wasn’t the right time or the place.

I wanted to tell the one homeless with her daughter, terrified of everything, that life can be simple, dependable, peaceful I believe.

But, I didn’t. It wasn’t yet time, it seemed best to wait until she begins on her own to see.

See, peace comes to us in different ways, in our own separate time and place.

Jesus was the object of speculation and of disbelief and disenchantment, much the same way was John the Baptist.

The disciples were learning as they followed while the onlookers and the intellects were set on deliberations of who they thought the Son of God should be. I guess much of who Jesus appeared to be was not their idea of a “prince” or one able to bring about peace.

Jesus essentially said and continues to say, just walk with me.

“Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you.

Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls.

For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭11:28-30‬ ‭NLT‬‬

I imagine me alongside Jesus. We are going forward, we are making clear the path through muck and mud and I am smiling as I am looking straight.

I am content in the steadiness of Jesus’ steps.

So, I walk with Him.

He is doing the bulk of the work of getting us through the rough places, keeping me out of the ditches, breaking up the ground for the goodness and growth that will rise up behind us.

Jesus and I together, we are breaking new ground.

Not settling where I am. He says come with me.

Peace is possible. Continue and believe.

Not As Before

Abuse Survivor, Angels, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, fear, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, hope, kindness, memoir, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Stillness, surrender, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

I’ve made some decisions and haven’t turned back, took some chances and opportunities recently, things that are teaching me that not everything comes by chance.

Fortune shines on others more than me and

Oh well, it wasn’t meant to be…these were the truths I believed.

Being a believer of a God who is sovereign, who is in control, led to my conclusion that only just enough good could be for me and that as a believer in sovereignty I must surely stay in my place, must not seek more than a little, must stay anchored by doubt and by fear of failure, not trying at all because of the unlikelihood of success.

I intentionally handicap myself.

I’m beginning to learn from my children, adults who have most likely seen this in me all along but never called me on it, accepted my ways for this long.

I wonder how it feels for a child to see a parent finally coming into their own?

Close to 60 years old and becoming strong?

I wonder if they realize in their own way, they helped me here.

To this season of wanting my legacy to be more than the timid and tentative mama, they may have always known. The one whose thoughts were always deep and bent towards worry.

Here now because I want their faith in God and His goodness to be strong.

Several months ago, I lost control.

Headed towards an important event, we were “T-boned” by a crossing car and my car jumped it seemed into the deep ditch and the front end was crushed by a timely positioned pine.

The Labrador, my husband and me. He jumped from the passenger side and I screamed loud and long. It was a very odd and out of control sounding cry. It was fear.

My daughter answered her phone.

“Mama, are you okay? You are okay. You are okay. Now, stop crying, just breathe and calm down.

You’re okay.

Calm down.”

She called her brother. He called me.

Same reaction, the same level tone in a child of mine’s adult voice. It was the same assurance, same calm.

Control what you can control. my son

Months have passed and changes have been made, changes are on the brink of being announced, career, home, and faith.

Changes are taking place.

Last night, I gave up on watching “Ozark”. Intrigued by the young actor with the authentic twang, I told myself to try it again, watch something that at least causes thought.

Fifteen minutes later, I switch to a Julia Roberts movie simply because she’s beautiful and required less attention.

Told my husband I couldn’t watch, don’t want to go to bed with those thoughts.

Still, I was startled awake before light and had to shake off a horrific dream. I knew it was partly me to blame. I watched the gory scene, heard the horrific words, saw the actor’s fear and grief and evil exchanged.

I went over my average daily screen time. I ate extra spicy food and then had red wine and then topped it off with chocolate milk, Advil and crunchy peanut butter on a spoon.

I recalled the nightmare to forget and move forward. Remembering times before. I had the damaged perception to believe that bad dreams were God sent messages to me.

Messages like you’re still that wild and mistake making girl, you’re still the too attractive and easy for your own good young woman, you’re still the poor girl in the ill-fitting tops, you’re still the fat middle schooler in your brother’s husky jeans.

You’re still the woman in the pew unwelcome by the women who are already there.

I don’t think nightmares are for anyone’s good. If there’s nothing else I can control today, I will control this new truth, this new optimistic conclusion.

And I will carry it into my day, I am no longer living the trauma victim way.

“Thereafter, Hagar used another name to refer to the Lord, who had spoken to her. She said, “You are the God who sees me.” She also said, “Have I truly seen the One who sees me?”

‭‭Genesis‬ ‭16:13‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Hagar was a slave girl who followed along with circumstances that caused her to carry a label we today would most likely call “whore”.

I can barely type the word. You see, I’ve been called that before.

In the nightmare last night, I revisited that woman of before; but, she ran, ran, ran ironically away from a church and through the streets to find herself alone in prayer, her face to the floor.

She found God there.

She rose and she walked freely, more freely than before.

What mindsets have held you captive?

You are never in God’s eyes the person you were before.

If you have experiences that lead to nightmares, don’t succumb to the belief that these bad dreams are your restitution for your bad before.

Use the sense that God gave you. Combine it with good and trustworthy therapy and then add in what you know. Know what God knows and can control and then assert yourself to control

What you can control.

Your “resurrection power”, your “freedom living on the inside”.

You called me from the grave by name
You called me out of all my shame
I see the old has passed away
The new has come! Chris Tomlin

Be found in your wilderness, come forward to be seen and to be fully known.

Like Saturday Sunshine

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, freedom, grace, happy, hope, memoir, obedience, painting, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

There was no hurriedness only a little curiosity over the day. The open day with possibilities until evening and then a time to be guests with friends.

Quietly, I lie waiting and watching and saw the little clementine colored circle peaking through the sheer in the open space of the blind.

Saturday is here and it has something to say. Says you’ve made it this far now let’s get going today; but, let’s keep the same pace.

The pace you gave a name to line up with your deciding to commit to being faithful.

Believe and continue, believe and continue.

Like the sunshine’s swaying smoothly shadows, it’s an easy feeling, like the Eagles old song it’s a “peaceful easy feeling”.

Believe and continue, no self-imposed pressure any longer, no succumbing to the doubt of others who may be intrigued by your continuing because all along they suspected you never would or could.

Believing God is with me, His Spirit, Jesus is for me, with me.

I am for Him.

It’s no longer about being worthy. It’s about continuing while believing.

It’s silently seeking and being met by something unexpectedly good.

The sunshine is splendid where I’m sitting, saying Come and see, come and see.

Eyes closed for a little longer and prayers added on, building one upon the other and then more and more that came to mind.

I open them at peace and find patterns now excitedly dancing on the blue places of the rug as if reverence has clearly met relief and together they have birthed belief.

“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.”

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭7:7‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Come and see what happens when you continue to believe…continue now with me.

True You, Letting Go of Your False Self to Uncover The Person God Created -Book Review

Abuse Survivor, Art, book review, bravery, Children, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, family, freedom, hope, mercy, obedience, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Stillness, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder, writing

I’ve just finished a book that’s causing me to be more brave, to acknowledge my own unmet needs and my less than consistent motivation and faith.

It’s New Year’s Eve and I am hopeful for 2019! I’m rushing its beginning, my heart longing for change, helped along by a very important book!

My 2019 word, like a label, is Faithful. I’m believing more clearly that God is faithful, more importantly, I’ve decided it’s not too late for me to be faithful in a few things!

I considered deleting the opening sentence of this, it being characteristic of my brooding, possibly seen as seeking attention self, being pitiful. Too honest, too brave.

But, the geese flew over, a loud and harmonious chorus at the very second I felt regret and so I saw that as a sign.

Leave your truth there. It is time, use what you’re beginning to learn.

I’ve just finished a book I’ll read again.

True You by Michelle DeRusha

After reading about her “being called out by God moment” I was challenged to discover the true me, to label the labels I’ve worn all of my life, assigned to me because of circumstances out of my control and handicapped by some of my own mistakes.

But, I couldn’t do any of this suddenly, so I asked God, what are my labels, my idols, my self-handicapping behaviors?

And then I rested and returned to read more and to realize some of my behaviors, my default mindsets and choices are simply what I know as me, keeping me from becoming the me God sees.

I know how to halt my progress, derail the train as it approaches the life changing bend because I’ve not lived in the land of confidence and courage for long enough to extend my stay, to be welcomed in.

To believe it’s a place I could live.

In this book, I gained confirmation of this thing I do, putting limits on my blessings, selling myself short, minimizing my part in my arrival at the place of who I was created to be.

I make it less than it is, the good that’s come my way, through my own hands.

My grandson stood over me as I painted, finishing up pieces for my first exhibit. He sweetly said “You’re really good.”

I smiled and asked “You think so?” He replied yes and asked how’d I get so good at painting.

I replied “I just kept trying, I just kept learning.”

“No, you are a good painter ” he insisted standing so close beside me, captivated as I explained the use of palette knife instead of brush.

And I didn’t discount it, I didn’t insist that he was wrong. I didn’t minimize his sweet praises.

I didn’t do the thing I’ve done for so long, I accepted his assessment of me, I owned it, I believed it belonged.

He labeled me a “good painter”.

Crazy thing, I have been painting for so very long and until that little exchange I’d never felt I could be called an artist, “a painter”.

Always, oh well just the one who keeps trying, keeps trying, I enjoy it, it’s therapy, I had an art scholarship but I flunked out.

Strategically distracting from the accepting of just maybe I’m good.

In Michelle De Rusha’s book I was especially changed by Chapters Four and Five, the ones on brokenness and on dark and desperate periods she refers to as the “hard prune”.

In Chapter Four, I read of the emotional epiphany the author experiences as she comes to terms with her lack of intimacy and utters words to herself that must have surely broken her heart, that her heart was not as close to God as she’d believed.

I didn’t have clarity in my vocation, in my calling as a writer, because I didn’t know who I was in God. Michelle DeRusha

My thought? How brave and how very scary her self revelation!

I had to pause, knowing it’s for me quite the same.

Chapter Five describes seasons of doubt, depression, dark nights of souls.

Unbeknownst to the world until long after her death, Mother Teresa suffered from a long and relentless dark night of the soul. Michelle DeRusha

We’re conditioned to push through those times of dark abyss. We push through, we masquerade, self-medicate with substance and empty activity.

We keep plugging along when what we need most is to accept it, to settle into the solemn and to let the soul get quiet enough for long enough to know what it is it needs to know.

Our culture is contradictory to that response, the letting the sadness and the times devoid of tangible hope do God’s work.

I don’t think I’ve ever thought to welcome seasons like these, I’m quite sure I’ve never thought them beneficial, the blah absence of growth or motivation or meaning.

I never realized they have a reason, there must be a settling into stagnancy, an acceptance of lull in blessing or breakthrough so that we seek Him and find authenticity in our faith again.

We have to let go of the self we created in response to hardship, to circumstances and we must not be pulled back there, to the places we know because we’re afraid of good, it’s too unfamiliar.

We have to allow and own our uncovering of our souls.

Our deepest, truest, most essential self has been waiting all along for this opportunity to be uncovered and exposed to the light, waiting for the invitation to grow into its fullest, richest, most beautiful potential. DeRusha

This book was not easy for me, it was true in ways I hadn’t expected its truth.

Occasionally, I pencilled and tabbed and then set it aside. I feared I was not ready to see some things, afraid to be called out of my past and current patterns.

I was afraid it would be too scary and difficult and even unfair to my messed up me to consider thinking new possibilities of me.

Early one morning I had clarity in making my list of labels and it occurred to me that yes, all of these were decided for you, assigned to you, expected of you.

You simply played along, sat in your corner, came out only when called and never having any inclination that right now you’re still wearing them, really have all along.

God’s seen you quite differently and patiently and consistently is calling you towards His idea of you.

So, my labels I’m letting go of along with their clutching and anxious handhold?

Victim

Misfit

Big girl

Black Sheep

Lost Child

Throwaway Child

Shy Child

Hidden One

The One Without Needs

Addictive Personality

Pitiful

Failure

Dreamer

Middle Child

Quitter

Too Deep

What labels have you lived with for too long?

I signed up to help launch this book and I remember commenting to the author

“Something tells me this book may change my life.”

And it has, it has been a beginning towards change.

I’ve only scratched the surface here.

If you’re ready to live freely, openly and be pruned of unproductive, dormant and decaying parts of you, your “tree”, you should order a copy.

If you order by midnight tonight, there are extra encouraging good things.

I’m so grateful Michelle De Rusha experienced her coming face to face with her self defeating behaviors that hindered her knowing God fully and truly.

Her story is important because she is closer than before to her “God You”.

Me too, hopefully you.

Exhibit One

Art, bravery, confidence, courage, Faith, grace, painting, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

Show me what to create, tell me what to say, I pray.

Seven paintings, canvases thick with mixture of medium, soft in color, sun, water, sky, trees, cloud, fields and an angel inspired by mama.

Seven paintings that will cover a small wall at our County Visitors Center.

Seven paintings that represent trying and believing it is possible and possibly not too late.

Seven paintings that were worked and reworked and almost covered over to be “girls”, but not because I stepped away, prayed a little, thought a little and let them rest a day to return to make more thick the colors, more evident the shapes in hopes that others might notice like me, notice God in them.

Not me.

“For nothing will be impossible with God.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭1:37‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Best Worst

Children, Faith, family, hope, Labradors, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Crying is not a thing for me, at least not obvious, in the open, show of emotion or to be noticed or inviting reaction.

I said goodbye and left for work.

Halfway down the highway remembering our thing they let me do, realizing the best or the good in what feels kinda worst or at least a little sad.

Sister and brother, single mother, supper table conversation starter used to be

Best of your day

And worst? Taking turns type invitation.

Honestly, we didn’t do this with regularity for very long.

I have smart children. They caught on.

Colt aka Colton Dixon

I left today in tears. The Labrador is leaving, gonna live with the one with whom he belongs.

Best thing, they’ll be together, I didn’t say no, acted doubtful or predicting problems.

Best thing?

They are together. It should be.

Worst?

I keep listening for his feet on the floor, next to the door…

Listening for his feet.

Best of my day? The really real reality of becoming a grandma,

of the Labrador being content and well loved and settling into big city and of me, this evening realizing I was running, running with light legs, light feet.

Worst?

Really nothing, nothing coming up, nothing really, really nothing.

Best clearly cancelled out worst today.

The Book of Luke, 24 Days of Jesus – An Advent Experience

Abuse Survivor, Advent, Angels, Art, bravery, Children, Christmas, confidence, contentment, doubt, Faith, family, fear, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, grief, happy, heaven, Homeless, hope, obedience, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

My morning will not be boisterous with unwrapping, celebration won’t come until later.

Children are adults and we’re laid back and flexible, open and accepting. I’m anticipating the day, anticipating spirited appearances, nuanced moments of Jesus in it.

The angels told the shepherds not to be afraid when God’s glory illuminated the sky, an announcement of a Savior.

And Luke ends his beautifully researched compilation with the words of Jesus, again saying fear is something you should never feel.

Of what are you afraid today?

Why are you frightened?” he asked. “Why are your hearts filled with doubt? Luke ‬ ‭24:38‬ ‭NLT‬‬

What are you doubting on Christmas morning?

Everything changes at Christmas except for Jesus.

Jesus stays the same, do not be afraid.

Merry Christmas to you.

Do new things, you can and you will, I’m remembering now my mama, she came to me last night in a dream.

Angelic, she was as she waited for me and without a word guided my continuing, gave approval of my plans.

Finally fading into the distance after nodding, smiling, giving her okay of who I am.

A beautiful vision, angelic it seemed.

Do not fear, Lisa Anne. Do not be afraid.

Merry Christmas to you.

Merry Christmas to me!

The Book of Luke, 24 Days of Jesus – An Advent Experience

Advent, Children, Christmas, contentment, courage, Faith, family, Motherhood, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Miracles, Them All

I am waiting for an experience I’ve never known.

I will be a grandmother soon. I have a new object on my table next to my morning spot, a beautiful tiny box engraved with a grandmother and baby.

The giver of this gift understands the gift.

She’s one of many who have told me it is a joy I’ve not yet known.

On this Christmas Eve, I’m thinking about transitions, about changes that are coming with the coming year.

Yesterday and even the day before, I longed for time travel, I longed for Christmas with my children as children, the Christmases like before.

I think I miss the morning most, the mornings they’d wake up to Santa and then the excitement, the surprise, the silly and sweet expressions.

I’m in the 23rd chapter of Luke today, the one that describes the crucifixion.

My eyes are welling up, my nostrils sting with the thought, I believe in the death of Jesus, a man sent from God so that we could be with God. Thank you, God, I believe.

The same Jesus who as a newborn was laid in a wooden feeding trough, being without a safe and warm place to be born.

Mary cradled Him, awestruck over his existence, over how clearly it was God who caused him to be.

It’s not recorded; but, it must’ve been difficult not to intervene, not to come to her son’s defense when they brought him before Pilate and then before Herod who declared he’d done no wrong.

Yet, it was ultimately an angry mob who demanded him be dead.

“but they kept shouting, “Crucify, crucify him!” A third time he said to them, “Why? What evil has he done? I have found in him no guilt deserving death. I will therefore punish and release him.” But they were urgent, demanding with loud cries that he should be crucified. And their voices prevailed.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭23:21-23‬ ‭ESV‬‬

And Mary knew this was God’s plan for her son, still I wonder how she handled it all, had she hoped he’d be spared?

Could someone hear the mercy in his voice, the forgiveness offered in his final moments…could that be enough?

“And Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” And they cast lots to divide his garments.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭23:34‬ ‭ESV‬‬

She heard Jesus comforting the mourners who followed him. She saw her son being laid on a cross and challenged to save himself from death.

She was not surprised when she saw her son think less of himself and more of another.

She heard him tell the criminal about redemption knew he’d be remembered in heaven.

She heard him tell the women his death had a purpose, a purpose even for them. If there is to be weeping, let it be for what is to come for you, what my death will accomplish for you, for your children.

Let your tears be tears of joy, save them for the elation, the blessing of what will be.

“And there followed him a great multitude of the people and of women who were mourning and lamenting for him. But turning to them Jesus said, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children. For behold, the days are coming when they will say, ‘Blessed are the barren and the wombs that never bore and the breasts that never nursed!’

‭‭Luke‬ ‭23:27-29‬ ‭ESV‬‬

On Christmas Eve, I’m thinking of the baby, the baby born to save and the babies for me that God made.

I’m pondering last minute little things, tokens that convey my undeniable love. I’m thinking of Mary and the truth we both know, children are a gift from God.

I am certain Jesus knew he was loved, loved and let grow and go.

Children are proof to me of miracles. There’s no way no one could ever convince me that’s not so.

“Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from him.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭127:3‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Jesus, the greatest miracle of all.

The Book of Luke, 24 Days of Jesus – An Advent Experience

Abuse Survivor, Advent, birds, Children, Christmas, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, family, fear, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, hope, mercy, obedience, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Stillness, suicide prevention, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

God With Us

The rain is falling so lightly now. A minute ago, I opened the back door and there was a warm encircling wind.

Now, I’m so in love with this moment, this moment beside the Christmas tree, the rain coming down again like yesterday.

Different rain than the unceasing one of Thursday. This one, I welcome, I feel it is a cleansing rain.

The geese are flying over, my mama would say, “Here they come.”

Yes, mama I know, today is a new day.

I’m fixated on the silence now I am again serene, I am aware of God with me.

Yesterday’s morning post ended with me thinking of the name, Immanuel, a name of Jesus, “God with us”.

Last night, I told someone I just felt a “darkness” coming down. I had finally settled on what my “one more thing” gifts would be for my children. I abandoned the thought of the grandstanding gifts of excessive and chose the more simple, the needed, the essential.

I sometimes overcompensate. I worry they’re not quite completely sure of my love, or of me.

Shopping was interrupted by a crisis call, 911 had to be called and the response to the crisis and our connection to the one who disrupted our day in a violent demand went on into the night.

There was prayer, prayer alone and prayer with another and prayer coupled with setting boundaries of providing insight to the ER. That is my role.

That is all, I told another and told myself.

I’m not called to rescue, only to provide a way through which many times is to step away, not be the depended upon rescue.

I am satisfied. I’ve done all I can.

Now, I’m thinking of where God was in all of this occurring. Only after the fact am I realizing I should have slowed down, been less frantic and fearful and frustrated.

I wish I had simply paused and breathed deeply in, let my shallow air linger in my lungs and wait, wait, to let my soul override my mind and know without a doubt, He knows, He sees.

He is with us. He is in control.

Love is the life of faith; obedience the life of love. Yea, rather, Christ Himself is the life of the soul. Edward B. Pusey, Joy and Strength devotional

I’m nearing the chapters describing Jesus’ death. In this experience of reading through Luke, I am being reminded of the purpose of His birth, the intention of God in all His son did while he walked on earth.

In Chapter 20, Luke records the questioning of Jesus, the discussions and debates over His authority. They were worried their kingdoms might topple, that the ones they considered their rulers might lose their esteem or that they, the rulers themselves might lose their lofty positions.

“And they were not able in the presence of the people to catch him in what he said, but marveling at his answer they became silent.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭20:26‬ ‭ESV‬‬

They heard Jesus teach with parables and discerned His lesson as a criticism of them. They sent spies to pretend they believed and would follow, only to try and catch him or to convince themselves they were okay, had no need of Him, could stay aligned with Caesar.

Like today, they made complicated what God planned to be simplicity in our belief. Not all of them but some decided to accept, to stop their disbelief,even though they were not yet certain of what was to come, what would clearly justify their belief.

“Then some of the scribes answered, “Teacher, you have spoken well.” For they no longer dared to ask him any question.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭20:39-40‬ ‭

When we believe God is with us, we’re less prone to question. When we return to the places we know we have found Him before, He will still be there.

An opened hand to heaven before my feet hit the floor, the warm wind before the rain begins, yes, He was there.

I’ve seen You move, come move the mountains
And I believe, I’ll see You do it again
You made a way, where there was no way
And I believe, I’ll see You do it again. Elevation Music

Do It Again

Your promise stands, sustain me longer than my mornings. I’m so very certain, you are near.