The Tide

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

I’m not at all a deep water person. I see my family riding the waves when I sit all alone and I’m the watchtower one, keeping head count, strong shoulders popping up from the deep.

They’ll stand and talk, drift away. I glance towards my book, but not for long. I hurry to take account of them again, my family out in deep, dark water hoping for strong waves to ride.

I’ll join them sometimes; but, only for the sake of taking part. The pull back towards the unknown keeps me near the shore. The way the water causes me to plant my feet and pause makes me uncertain.

Still, every summer I get a little closer to letting the tide take me where it may, a little more adrift, a gradual and deeper depth.

As a little girl, I almost drowned and it seemed no one noticed soon enough.

This is why I’m hesitant to go too deep. I resist the pull of let’s go farther out, let’s explore new places and experience new opportunities and challenges.

Take more chances.

I worry over the steadiness of my feet.

Lately,  I took some chances and went out to ride the waves, played around in the deep with other brave and happy swimmers; but, decided no, you should just sit it out.

You’re not quite ready, head back to shore and think about this a little while longer, maybe you can try again.

So, like finding my place from the water amongst all the bodies and chairs, I headed back towards safety.

Stopping where the tide hit the backs of my calves and nearly knocked me down, I braced myself for a minute lest I fall embarrassed by my lingering and dropping back.

I stepped from the cool water and back to my place, the place of feeling safe but, wishing I’d have gone farther.

I settled apart from the others, the sea teasing and taunting me for my lack of courage.

There’s a song Mark Hall and Casting Crowns sings called “That was Then”… Goes on to say “This is Now”.

Standing at the water’s edge
I dropped my dreams when I dropped my nets
No hesitation, no regrets
I followed You
But that was then
And this is now

Now is when you forget how strong you were before because you forgot the one who made you believe you could.

Or maybe now is when you ventured out all cocky without your soul tethered to your anchor.

This morning, I’m acknowledging my progress.

I’d love to say “finally” as if it might never happen again; but I know I’m new at swimming in this ocean.

I can’t ever stay steady focused or brave in my stepping  out on my own.

This is my 499th post and regardless of where I’m going in this writing journey, where I’ve been and who I am now seems to be most relevant to me this morning.

Because, more than becoming a better writer, a more polished and creatively appealing assembler of words, I have grown in my understanding of God in this thing I still call my uncovered treasure from tiny God-planted seed.

I stop now, because I sense my rambling, my lack of creative and skilled elimination of repetition. Apologies, my work is in progress.

I wonder again though, just how far God might take me, how much farther out he might point my steps if I’d stop reminding him that I can’t swim.

Yesterday, I prayed “Lord, thank you for slowing down my success. Thank you for drawing me back. Give me strength to stay near.”

I’ve had some special opportunities in writing and painting happen for me.

Yet, I got caught up in the excitement looking for the next big wave.

Then, the river seemed to dry up, stopped its flow.

So, I prayed.

By day’s end someone commissioned five paintings.

I returned to “boot camp” to continue my commitment to make my body an acceptable living sacrifice and in between these two steps I had the courage to ask for writing help and signed up for a mentor.

Trusting the tide.

“Keep steady my steps according to your promise, and let no iniquity get dominion over me.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭119:133‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee. her post challenges us to think of what lies we are telling ourselves about ourselves. A very timely one for me.

Read here: http://jenniferdukeslee.com/six-words-can-make-difference/

The Way

Faith, grace, mercy, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized

My soul waits

 
I suppose I’m gonna have to search and find it.

Maybe spend the afternoon half watching, half drifting in and out. 

Because, I can’t stop my mind from singing the song. 

A pretty little thing, got me thinking in a way down a path of payin’ attention all day 

Must be somethin’ meant for me to see and know. 

“O’ Brother, where Art Thou ” there surely must be more to your funny film. 

More to the story.  More to mine. 

Starting with my Bible now, and from there every little thing, I’ll be focused in an easy way, open to noticing sweet small things, good things, Good Lord. 

Settin’  my mind to know the way. 

Take a listen, Alison, classic and early. 

Good Lord, show me the way!

I’ve sketched a girl, an angel and just below the place my journal rests I notice the bold verse. 

Yes. 

In your word, I hope. 

Driving the Train

Abuse Survivor, bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, grief, marriage, mercy, Motherhood, praise, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized

My “Jesus Calling” devotional just lit a fire down in my soul, a warmth bubbled up and found its way to the bottom of my lashes. 


Little cups slowly filling with the hot need to pause and realign my heart, my thoughts, my confidence. 

So, I let it happen as I saw her there, my mama in the conference room. My big brother trying to figure out the “unfigurable”. This doctor and that one, then another. 

My mama found the right time in awkward and helpless pause of them all and said.

“Not a one of us is driving this train. God’s driving this train.”

My mama always spoke the truth. I believe she’s been watching me feel less than capable, wavering unsteady on the cusp of hard but good things. I believe she sees me about ready to retreat; and she’s proud of me that I haven’t. 

I believe she knows I won’t. 

My world’s not falling apart, some of the details are just tediously unpleasant and tough. Requiring a steadfast stance, a throwing off of the burdens of second guessing and scared. 

I have a life I never fathomed possible. 

So many thankful things. 

The way my husband has endured so much.  The way my son-in-law looks after my girl. The way my son is focused and committed but not in a way that’s crazy obsessive to his future, the way my daughter demonstrates loving her husband.  It’s a pretty love they have, I’m thankful to sit back and see. 

The way today is the first morning in a week I did not wake to a pile of labrador poop. So, I’m thankful for rice and Pepto this morning. I am. 

But, I tell you something!  I dreamt an awful outrageous dream just hours ago filled with trauma and memories and somehow they all mingled with today stuff and yesterday junk.

But, wake up oh, sleeper Lisa! 

Acknowledge you took some bad things to bed with you. Don’t lie there all day! 

Now, let them go and let God! 

He’s got the whole world in His hands.  It is absolutely not up to me to hold it all, hold it all together or figure it out. 

Not my place now. 

Knees down, hands open, face to heaven. 

“Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you,”

‭‭1 Peter‬ ‭5:6‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Enjoy the ride, the driver knows the way. 

Who is in charge of your life? If it is you, then you have good cause to worry. 

But, if it is I, then worry is both unnecessary and counterproductive…

back off a bit, redirecting your focus to Me.  

Jesus Calling

Hard Words and Hope

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


A particular line, a verse in the passage I’m studying, caused me to be cautionary. 

Again today, a word with a serious tone, unpleasant, almost intimidating. 

in·so·lent

ˈinsələnt/

adjective

showing a rude and arrogant lack of respect.

“she hated the insolent tone of his voice”
I walked away slowly thinking of my prayer. “Give me grace, help me give grace.”

I’d prayed before encounter, will be praying again. Conflict resolution, doing hard things, handling unavoidable resolutions I’m responsible for…I cower. 

I don’t feel strong.  

Weak, I feel weak. 

So, I’m looking towards my feet and I’m proceeding with thoughts and patient steps towards what will be my next step.

Sometimes like a “heads up” a feeling will linger, taking its time to be tangible, maybe pointing out the concern I already knew. 

People are not always kind; in fact, when faced with desperation they might be downright insolent. 

I had to look it up, the word “insolent” seemed so important for me to grasp, an angry sounding word shouting out of a Psalm, saying, “Listen up, Lisa; be aware.”

“Teach me good judgment and knowledge, for I believe in your commandments. Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I keep your word. You are good and do good; teach me your statutes. The insolent smear me with lies, but with my whole heart I keep your precepts; their heart is unfeeling like fat, but I delight in your law. It is good for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn your statutes.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭119:66-71‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Me, the one who still maintains people are good, it’s just stuff that happens to them that makes them not so “good” or good hearted. 

When my children were little,  they’d tell me about a mean boy or girl, a bully or an arrogant peer. 

I’d caution them not to label, saying “Something must be bad at home.” 

I believe they believed me. 

Grown up children carrying scars all around, I notice the negative directed towards me and decide, most likely,  “Something bad must have happened or is happening now to cause their behavior.”

I look at the faces on the “jail report” and have to look away, it’s the saddest thing I’ve ever seen, a newspaper with mugshots of people who lost their way and committed crimes.  Their expressions either lost or stoically arrogant and accepting of their label.

 I don’t allow myself to gawk over another’s distress. I look away wondering “their story” and think what a sad commentary on our society that people purchase this like glossy fashion magazine or news. 

They print this publication in color, the faces jump out from convenience store cover. 

Somewhere along the line misfortune tainted their choice to walk a straight line. 

I choose to believe, still. 

We all stumble in many ways. James 3:2


Empaths like me try to see the other side, still we’re blindsided at times when compassion doesn’t set things right and we encounter ugly face to face. 

When we’re forced to accept that our compassion is not always enough. 

It’s the bane of my work, do the best, let God do the rest and then “rest in that”. 

This, one of many what I call a “Lisaisms”.

I suppose there’s a reason God brings struggle to our lives, causes us to struggle with the hard things like unfairness, disappointment, disrespect and struggling people who put us in places that require us to stand firm in kindness. 

When being hard makes sense. 

To defer to imagining how we might feel in their place. 

Surely it’s important for me to know that I might encounter people I can’t change. Two days in a row, the word “insolent” in my verses. 

“Let the insolent be put to shame, because they have wronged me with falsehood; as for me, I will meditate on your precepts.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭119:78‬ ‭ESV 

So, you speak truth in a way that you can maintain because bending one way or another will make it harder to hold onto you and your hope. 

You know yourself, important to hold fast. 

Because hope is bigger than insolence. Integrity more sustaining than offense and I believe God’s faithfulness more pervasive than the perverse of those whose actions are perverse. 

I’ve read and left in draft this post, thinking too dark.  

I’m cautious over readers who might turn away, the content just too contentious. 

But, we live in a difficult world. We’re surrounded by people with difficulties who are difficult. 

We ourselves are these who lean towards the ugly at times. We have to keep ourselves leaning or better yet, upright. 

Knees down, hands open, face to God. 

Someone said to me the other day, as we were talking of a loss of life, young stolen by drugs and then mental illness, incarceration and finally homelessness. 

 “We are all just a circumstance from the bottom.” Vickie

So, let me not grow hard Lord, keep as my philosophy the “but, for the grace God” thingy I say. 

Let me not become someone other than me because of hard faces or insolent words, trampled on hearts. 

Help me help others rejoice. 

“Those who fear you shall see me and rejoice, because I have hoped in your word.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭119:74‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee as she shares some solid motivation for us with fitness goals, boot camp, et al. 🙂

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/start-chain-reaction-good-habits/

Five Minute Friday: Future

bravery, Faith, grace, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Writing for five minutes, hoping to get it right, to not let age and deficits in tech savvy cause me to abandon the five minute rule and say “oh well!”

Here go thoughts on future and the year I named “breakthrough” feeling only like stepping towards if not just peeking in. 


I don’t lay out my clothes and don’t shop by grocery list planned ahead for meals. 

I’m not sure what I’ll have as mood to match my blouse, my shoes, my day. 

I can’t think far enough ahead to say oh, a roast on Sunday or a ham or oh, well, I’ll just do spaghetti. 

And worklife requires such things, projections, successions and sustainability.

I figure my clothes and meals can at least not be confined to demands of planning.

Now, as far as my future, I do best to live daily and am horrible at goal setting, writing, painting and all. 

I’ve been hearing the navigational command and I’m veering that way; but, more like a wanderer than a traveling soul headed towards a destination.

“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 ‭30:21‬ ‭ESV‬‬

So, thank you Friday prompt for prompting this self-examination. 

I need an itinerary for my future, I’ve haphazardly gone without with only vague sense of direction far too long. 

I’ll get focused on future, lest I discard the things I believe God keeps nudging me towards. 

‘Cause I heard about faith in a new way last week, too. 

It’s not emotion, it’s motion. 

It’s evidence, action, not just talk or thought. 

The Bloom on the Ground

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


When I saw it there, a cream colored snowball size object, I was careful to drive around. 

I paused and then stopped, opened the door and walked back behind the car to see. 

A magnolia bloom, petals curved in towards themselves as if to comfort.

This feeling we know, the striving for awhile then close to falling apart, pulling knees up to chest and then lying still, waiting to pick ourselves up again. 

To be picked up, cradled, and redeemed. 
No one around to see me that morning, the oddity of me caring for the fallen bloom and the way I found happiness in deciding to place it on my desk. 

It wasn’t my concern, the connection some find strange, the one with sky and feather or flower. 

I cupped it in my hand and it unfolded gently and began to fall apart in my lap. 


The tiny matchstick-like stamens scattered out on my car seat and I collected them gently, so many and so fragile, I thought. 

I let them rest inside the hollow place in the center of the flower, the place where growth had begun before.

Where the bloom had been made to grow big and glorious. 

Only to have fallen from up high in strong and ancient tree onto the hard gravel path. 

Then the storm came and morning left it face down and alone. 

To be found by me.

I thought about faith and transgressions and falling because of failure.

If I’m honest, because of falter. 

The broken bloom in white bowl on my desk all day, a testament to being broken and still beautiful. 

The creamy white petal tips now tinged even more rusty apart from the tree.

The cone of flower holding fast to its center, knowing it wasn’t time yet for flower’s fading, too soon to have fallen away from grace. 

Beauty in the fallen and the fragile.

“If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,” even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you. For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭139:11-14‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Grace, grace, that a fallen magnolia bloom intent because of God, might catch my eye and slow me down, turn my thoughts, remind my heart of beauty even in broken. 

Broken, yet, still beautiful. 

God is everywhere.  Don’t forget to notice. 

I got so very much off track this week that I forgot what I wanted to remember most, this beautiful prayer, perhaps prompting my thoughts and joy over the fallen flower. 

So, a little late linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee here: 

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/memorial-day-six-ways-find-peace-hectic-world/

Motherly (s)

bravery, Children, courage, Faith, grace, Motherhood, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, wonder

Wisdom lingers like blood through my veins, pools of restful reasoning.

My waiting, my trusting, my pulling back rather than pushing for quick resolve.

Less control, more confidence.

My reactions, my bravery, my lack of filtering dislike over phony or for show.

Honest expression of observation, less impressing, more insight.

The wisdom of my mama occupies my frame.

wedding 053

She opens her mouth with wisdom and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue. Proverbs 31:26

There are others too, I’ll call them my “motherlys”. The ones who turn me back to me or towards the good or better they see in me.

My daughter, straight shooter and spot on is quick to lift me up or bring me back down to the place of just enough me rather than “too much Lisa”.

I consider her gauge, I consider her critique as she considers my being of me and we are quite good with the compromise.  A beautiful bride, overjoyed to be wed.

An excellent wife who can find? She is far more precious than jewels. The heart of her husband trusts in her, and he will have no lack of gain.  

Proverbs 31:10-11

One believing the other wise.

wedding 184

 

Wisdom of mothers and daughters, an exchange I’d not expected so pleasantly friendlike.

Then there’s my aunt, my mama’s only sibling.

“Prayer and patience, Lisa…prayer and patience.” Aunt Boo, we call her.

She makes linen garments and sells them; she delivers sashes to the merchant. Strength and dignity are her clothing.

Proverbs 31:24

wedding 073

A newfound motherly, my “Peacock”cousin, told me yesterday as we talked of answered prayers, that she understands me.

Understands the seeking of attention that had long been sought, yet rarely given. Told me it’s hard to know the play between seeking praise and embracing, celebrating a gift.

She corrected me when I told her I’m working hard not to seek the spotlight, I’m working hard on not seeking the glory, working hard to not expect to be noticed.

She opens her mouth with wisdom.

Proverbs 31:26

She said,  “Lisa, it’s acceptance of being affirmed by God. He is affirming your gift, don’t deny his affirmation.”

And I said an audible,”Ahh.” because I’d never considered that hiding away, of not stepping into the light God arranged to illuminate my gift from Him was something bad or invaluable.

I confuse humility with hiding, praise with pride.

When something God made come true, not something I forced, finagled, pushed my way to and through, begging to be noticed.

Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her works be praised at the gates.

Proverbs 31:31

So, on this day moving closer towards my motherless day, I’m sharing an excerpt from the chapter in this book called “I Heart Mom”.

17917442_10155057934141203_270021845428850011_o

My chapter, titled “Leaving Loved” was God-planted, cultivated and harvested into print almost smack dab in the middle of this Anthology of stories. There are stories for moms across the ages and stages. I encourage you to purchase a copy and I am thanking God, yet again for his glorious affirmation of my love of putting words together to form stories of good.

   I wore red that day, attempting to inspire myself. My mama wore red. She wore it well. She got stronger one day, and from then on, she was confident and known in her management circles. So, I wore red on that day, anxious to appear in control, assertive and take charge. I met with people, several that day. One, rather outspoken and sure of herself in a way making me, twenty years her senior, feel uncertain. She avoided my eyes, kept glancing towards my neckline. At first, I thought, this necklace is cool, trendy, I guess she wonders maybe where I got it. But, her fixation continued, becoming a question. I figured it out, I decided, “It’s my turkey neck, lines like tissue paper crumbled up then folded back to be used again, the lines in my neck, that’s what she’s obsessing. Later, with many encounters between, I stood in my bathroom and there it was, all day long I’d worn my sweater backward, the stitching of the tag, a rectangle at the base of my neck, the little hollow place. Surely, someone thought to tell me; but, decided against, not wanting to ruin my day. Still, I wondered why friends let me carry on all day, afraid to reveal the truth. Something not nearly as earth shatteringly true as truth kept quiet for years, revelations hard to hear, the ones my children finally revealed; the things nobody along the way had been brave enough to say…

I thought of being a mother last night, as I do in some way or another every day, praying they sense God near, hoping they remember my “don’t forget I love you notes.” My son had gone back to college from Christmas break, and I’d forgotten somehow, so I thought for a second, I wonder what he’s doing at the house. My daughter, a newlywed at home with husband, I thought of texting her; but, didn’t’, I’ll wait ‘til tomorrow.  I’m almost certain that if you asked someone who knows me they’d say it was good, the way I raised them up, the way they knew my love. I’d like to know if there’d been one attentive observer who thought about telling me the truth I know now. Being the parent of grown up children is laborious and good, its redemption in my self-examination, in their courage to confront my mistakes and manipulative behaviors from a distance. It’s a circling back around, learning lessons from them, their decisions and words, finally speaking hard things they’d never been bold enough to say before.  So, if you asked that circle of friends, family or from a distant, maybe social media observer if I’d been a pushy mama, a controlling mama or a mama who sought glory through her son, her daughter; they’d maybe say, “No way” or “Not, Lisa.” The answer comes gradually, a harsh reality when your children get just far enough away to tell you so, far enough from the fear of their mama’s reaction. Brave enough to know the value of honest expression despite causing their mama’s shoulders to drop and her eyes turning away as they become warm with tears. Neither of them would hurt their mama; our journey had been rocky, single mama for a bit, just us three. My daughter, my son, their mama’s vulnerable heart and driven desires. They became children who pleased me…

I see it know, thank you for showing me easy, my daughter, my son. In my arranging your futures, in what I thought was right, was love, I could have worn you out. I now see it made you strong, strong enough to let me know, courageous enough to move past it all to become who you are.

To read the rest of the story about my children and Jacob and Esau, of letting God lead and allowing them to leave me loved, purchase the book on Amazon here:

https://www.amazon.com/Heart-Mom-together-strongest-motherhood/dp/099822118X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1494441621&sr=1-1&keywords=I+Heart+Mom

It’s filled with stories of other moms navigating life, love, and leaving.

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Of babies and boys and girls, softly lined cradles and newly emptied nests.

I am thanking God daily for opportunity.

For reminding me not to give up…to take steps towards doors he decides to open or not.

I’m learning to be affirmed by God, that it’s okay to be happy in good things my way.

I’m linking up  with Jennifer Dukes Lee and the story of the “15 Things”.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/mothers-day-15-things-want-daughters-know/

dbdc4aff-5690-4e57-94e4-7badc916de74-319-0000001872923f25

 

 

 

Too Deep for Words

bravery, courage, Faith, grace, mercy, praise, Prayer, rest, Salvation, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I can tell you there’s nothing better than having strong arms holding you tight

for longer than a consoling or obligatory hug, for as long as the one being held holds on. 

Until they have emptied themselves of what’s been brimming, aching, 

on the verge of

tears.

I worried about her.  Left our shelter to be on her own and then as we decided today “things got hard…illness, upheaval…all hell broke loose and hard stuff happened”. 

My imagination went wild and tragic. 

She was not home, would not answer. 

I finished a meeting early and decided to try again, she may be home

or the car might have moved and come back. 

The apartment complex entry, scattered with  porch sitters and juveniles turning to notice my car. 

I had taken her to church with me, I’d confronted her struggles and we’d found our way back to good. 
We’d talked about Jesus together. 

I get the chance to come to know women at a loss for winning

ever again. 

You can’t imagine the climb from hopeless to possible. 

Nor the fear of trying to be good and safe and alone with no one to depend upon but you. 

So, when I hugged her goodbye and she cried, fragile arms shaking and shoulder blades a’quiver. 

I held her and she cried. 

For a long time. 

And she asked me to pray for her and I thought fleetingly 

I’ll pray now, out loud and pleading. 

But, it seemed self-serving and held tighter instead, my hands on her back, her face against my chest. 

I’d been calling. I’d decided I’d be met by tragedy if ever I might find her again. 

Her phone stopped working, she explained. 

So, on my kitchen counter now lies an old yet new one I’d found at bottom of my pocketbook, the downgraded discarded upon upgrade I said. 

“I have a phone, you can have it. 

Things will be better. 

Pray. One day, one obstacle at a time. ”

“I’ll be stronger for it.” She said. 

“I can’t imagine you any stronger.” I answered.

“I feel better.” she added and I told her if she could, read Romans 8, because I did this morning and I believe I will again. 

And maybe again. 

“But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.”

‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:25-26‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Angels, Art and Otherwise

bravery, Faith, grace, mercy, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

A writer who wrote a book about hope and places and people along the way who reinforced or taught us to be hopeful, “Hope Markers”  https://www.joangallaghernowo.com/ asked if I’d consider writing a guest post. 

Joan Gallagher is one of the answers to my Jabez prayer, that God would enlarge my territory. 

She has a website called “Women Mentoring Women” and honestly this name makes so much sense based on my encounters with her. 

She’s never given me anything but hope. 

She doesn’t even know me. 

So, I thought of mentors and being a tad bit independent in the way I process advice, I had to acknowledge that maybe I’m not so great a “mentee”.

But, I thought of a gracious woman who gave me the chance to love her, to honor and complement her life changing story.

I thought of her grace towards me and others and I remembered and wrote of a life changing time in her life that she will not allow to be forgotten. 

So, I thought yes, it’s Judy. She’s my hope marker, my pointer out of all the graces I’ve been shown. 

Thank you, Joan for the chance to write. 

I hope you’ll read and think of grace, God’s unending towards us and his opportunities to allow our graces given by others to never go unnoticed. 

I hope you’ll honor my beautiful friend, Judy Jones, by reading and sharing her story; but, mostly being changed as was I by her example of grace. 

Angels and a Teacher of Grace

Mother’s Day – Alphabetized

Uncategorized

Mother’s Day every day.

Lisa Anne Tindal's avatarLisa Anne Tindal

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Yay, for finding this! I know Mother’s Day is next weekend; but, I have been thinking about this post all week. This is from three years ago and my blog was sort of not so well-organized, the fonts nor layout…the content always so great!

But, I have grown. The two of you have grown. We have grown together with God’s grace and prayer and still random “Don’t forget I love you’s” and even more “thank you God prayers from me” because he gave the two of you to me. ❤️

Last week, I sat in a meeting pretending to be compelled by the speaker. If I told you the topic, you’d agree that there was no real reason for me to listen. I promise, I was not rude, just disinterested. You would have been too.

So, I began to think about Mother’s Day.

Last year I did something new at…

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