Blank Page Prayer

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

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Eleven or so lines, gray soft graphite point from crystal colored pink pencil, that was all today.

I woke and scribbled self-talk truer than most days, a carry over from evening thoughts quiet in theme.

Evening walk ending with letting Colt walk towards sunset unleashed. I waited, prolonging our walk as he meandered in high grass turning brown against brilliant edged sky.

Pencil to page:

10/25/16

I thank you Lord, for things you remind me to pursue and for those you help me let go and let be.

For, it is then that that the sweetest answers come.

In reply, a surprising confirmation and unexpected love words.

Remind me Lord, to acknowledge my imperfections in a way quite okay and then accept my vulnerable as well as fallible me.

It is then I let go of the swiftly flooding rapids of doubt.

Head up in confidence, facing warm sun and one hand open in trust, my heart more aligned with God, I move with rhythm of life’s stream.

Seeing clearly and seen clearly.

Shine lightly and softly, girl, shine.

Let it shine, shine, shine.

Your heart.

….with the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit

I Peter 3:4

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee as she shares the beauty of brokenness.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/taking-broken-way-way-real-wholeness/

Who I Am, Alone

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

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Who I am, alone, the one who believes.

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

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

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

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

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

It was phenomenal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Providence in word from Old and New.

The place of promise is revealed through faith.

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

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

Because of faith.

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

I believe it shows.

My faith unmoved with noise of our day.

So unmoved and undaunted, perhaps inviting question.

Merciful Sky

courage, Faith, grace, Uncategorized

It eluded me.

Against the wide sky, not much to marvel over, it appeared.

Open sky welcoming change

Had the whole place to itself.

I turned in hopes to see the darkly colored shape, small against wide pale sky.

Sky so big and vague, so nondescript I found nothing in my hoping to see.

There.

Again, I look up and it’s here then gone and my gaze meets nothing but

the sky, a clean slate, a fresh canvas.

The clouds stretched and barely visible

Had God used an eraser in haste, left some chalk marks in the sky?

Cooler weather for the weekend, I heard.

Change coming.

Starting fresh and clean after frantic mixed with melancholy and busy.

I welcome them,

The days of mercy after long wait

coming soon.

It Will Lift

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

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

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

She told me it’s all “about to lift”,

These burdens I been totin’.

I believe her.

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

herself.

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

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

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

As my shoulders sigh with relief, oh yes…

It has lifted.

Mail: prompt for five minutes of writing

Faith, grace, Prayer, Trust, Uncategorized

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This one, I kept

courage, family, rest, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I rearranged some things and hung it so that from a certain spot I can be there again.

It might be a chilly morning in mid-March with puffy cloud of mist hovering above my grandfather’s pond.

Dan Dan’s pond

I might be standing on my mama’s lonely deck and fix my eyes towards the far corner of the pond’s bank.

The morning might begin to open its eyes and the eventual sunlight would paint the pine tops iridescent.

I may remember the grassy path, the thick clumpy moss on roots and the long and leafy ferns spread out like ocean floor of green.

So, this one I kept so that I might go back again, to the pond behind my mama’s.

My grandfather’s pond, the place of my soul, my childhood, my fresh starts and heartaches.

This one, the one I created with sun dappled green and blue, on old beaten up and discarded wood that quite naturally became trees, I will keep.

Wearing my Cross

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She told everyone she could then, all of Samaria.

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

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

For her, for them, us, me.

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

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

Death too; but, mercy more.

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

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

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

And be thankful it found me at my worst.

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

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

Eighteen Years Today

Children, courage, family, grief, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Daddy and I

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

Grief is insidious.

It’s sneaky and mean. It lingers long.

It slips away quietly and comes back without invitation.

Today, eighteen years ago, my daddy died.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A heaping measure equivalent to my love.

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

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

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

Grief, be big today.

As big as love and its lessons.

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

My daddy was a quiet man.

Sunday, Light with Song

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Renewed for today.

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

Now, go on, there’s more.

It’s up ahead.

Walking Towards Knowing

courage, Faith, grace, Trust, Uncategorized

Writing, based on Five Minute Friday word, TEST:

Up around this curve or the next is understanding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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