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Broken Cherished Things

courage, Faith, family, Teaching, Uncategorized

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I moved it inside.

The plant by the pool, neglected and uncertain of thriving, the one with the succulents and stones.

I’d planted it meticulously remembering, “not too deep, room for roots to grow, break up the roots and soak it all down good, but don’t beat them to death with water …then leave it alone”.

I took the time, finally to use her pot

thinking it’d be my focus, my tribute and yet it was barely making it now midsummer.

So, I brought it inside, the succulents in the broken-edged pot.

The shallow dish planter from my mama’s deck, its edges crumbled and broken off in chunks, still I’d kept it all these years.

It sits nearby now, beginning to live again brightly.

Vivid green, sprigs of new and thriving of what was planted before.

It must be the choice of spot, the repositioning or perhaps just the noticing of need, my giving an honored spot close by.

Or maybe, the remembering of being cherished and loved again.

Moved closer now, close as possible to remember her love.

Remembering her hands in dirt, seasoning in the pots and icing on the cakes.

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Found in the Morning

courage, Faith, Prayer, Uncategorized

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Morning makes me feel like a child, there are chances and choices and I wake with the realization of opportunity.

Morning, more clear in its inventory of me, my prayers are more honest, less prompted as if thoughts were shuffled in my sleep to the place they become conversation with God, bedside and solitary.

Words are exchanged and then silence before the thoughts that can no longer be hidden from the day are offered, truth.

Lord, help me to stay on track, get back on track and stay there.

Have I hidden my eyes from you or have I allowed the maze of life to mask my view?

No need for pretty words or inserting of song or verse.

The heart has spoken in the time before day takes over and tries to obscure my view.

The secret things unhidden. I have been found.

The longings and commitments unmuffled and unmarred by this world we live in.

Morning, a brief abiding and

A prayer to stay here longer, abiding in Him.

And now, little children, abide in him, so that when he appears we may have confidence and not shrink from him in shame at His coming. I John 2:28

Prompted to write about being “Hidden”.

todayi am

 

 

 

 

Cause me to see, Lord

courage, Faith, family, grace, Motherhood, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized

Cause me to hear thy lovingkindness in the morning; for in thee do I trust: cause me to know the way wherein I should walk; for I lift up my soul unto thee.

Psalm 143:8

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I watched a little boy digging a tunnel from the place where the tide crept close up to his mama’s feet. His lanky arms, working hard with occasional glances up to meet eyes and small of his mama.

A straight line, little clumpy hills bordering the hollowed out path from edge of ocean to his mama.

She smiled towards him, then towards me as I stepped over his tunneled path to walk down towards the open space of shore.

Her smile, a knowing smile, the sweetness of motherhood, our bond.

What beautiful stories are the ones of mamas and children, brief moments of treasure.

We walked on, my husband drifting ahead, slightly towards open water. My walk more slow, a response to the invitation of space wide and unhindered now.

I reach down to touch a washed up feather, wet, dull and textured, beaten by surf into its shape.  I’ll place it in my book, allow it to dry, become white again and cause me to remember it as my treasure.

This morning’s verse, a morning verse, a call to God to turn my heart, my eyes and mind towards grand things and small things. The King James Version, more direct a request  asking “Cause me to know you and see you, God.”

Cause me, stop me in my haste; may I be unable to look away, to not be aware of you, Lord.

Turn my face, Lord. Open my eyes and heart to the wide expanse of your glory and to the smallest of stories that invite my reading along.

 

Saturday morning with Sleeping House

courage, Faith, family, Prayer, rest, Uncategorized

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All are sleeping, cool quiet house and coffee in hand, I pause to pray.

Lord, help me; help us to love one another…to love well. Remind me to start with love, thinking of the great writer, Og Mandino’s words, how love sees everything, frames the perspective of everything from the beginning.

Help me not to strive to be the fixer of all, the holder together of all and the keep the peacer of all.

Help me to notice You today.

Remind me to pause to remember all the sweet and powerful answers to my prayers, your hearing and your replies and your goodness in my life.

Help me notice others in a way that is more attentive to hearts, to vulnerability and to need.

And then strengthen my compassion and my empathy so that I know clearly “but for the grace of God…” or just a reminder, not sad just memory of a time I might have been similarly downhearted.

Dear Lord, help us to love one another. May our hearts be light and our time be joyful.

Thank you for laughter.

We look forward to more silly, more funny and fun.

We love you Lord, our souls rejoice.

Thank you for the beauty of our earth.

Because of mercy, I pray

in Jesus name,

Amen

New and Foreign Territory

courage, Faith, Prayer, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized

She asked if I’d help and I was hesitant.

“I don’t want to say yes and not do it well. I want to make sure it’s right for me, want to make sure I can connect.”

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I told her I knew nothing about being a Missions leader because, well…I’m just not a mission type person. It’s all so foreign and far away. I’m not worldly thinking. I told her I’d look into it, see what a leader should look like, don’t want to do it halfway.

All the countries, all the places all over the world and “Shoot! I’m afraid to even get on a plane!”

All my life I’ve considered my work my mission, called it that sometimes.

poverty, abuse, homelessness and suicide

My mission field is my work.

Still, I promised I would consider leading and the deadline to tell her, I missed it, but knew she was waiting to hear, waiting for me to pray about it.

I hadn’t until just now.

Asked God, “Clarify to me what you would have me do.”

Last week I met someone who described faith in action as being a deliverer of God’s kingdom right where you are to as many people as possible, to just start a spread.

I read in Matthew, a parable of an invitation to a wedding, unopened by many, ignored by many.

Then today, thinking about the question, the nomination…I journaled again, the words of Jabez…Bless me indeed, adding little words…good things, best things, right things.

Then on to the next line, a simple, vulnerable, powerful prayer…

Enlarge my territory.

I stopped, knew it then, underlined the words, straight solid and bold.

I researched the goals, the purpose of WMU and I decided to help.

Woman’s Missionary Union challenges Christian believers to understand and be radically involved in the mission of God.

To be challenged to understand more and to be radically involved.

To help the women and girls of my church as believers becoming more involved in things we see as “foreign”.

Linking up to hurriedly talk about help for Five Minute Friday…I think I took longer, though.

http://buff.ly/29QYESi

Color and Heart

courage, Faith, grace, rest, Trust, Uncategorized

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I began to think, if this happens at just the right time and the precisely right way, then I will know it is just as it should be.

That I should continue to create the Colors of My Bible journey, story, art.

To visit friends, honor them and God, telling the stories of us.

I got lost, though, and I wondered if maybe it was a sign, the directions told me I’d arrived when in fact I was crossing one of three old country bridges over a wide, wide river.

If precision and pattern or duplication of previous experience were signs of favor, perhaps this was a sign of something else.

Of course, I took it that way.

But, only for a second or two, this time

remembering asking God for an unfolding of my day in early prayer.

Giving up control as a measure of contentment.

I will feel confident and determined, I will write. I will paint.

I won’t rationalize and manipulate the patterns, colors, textures and encounters.

Setting out to create the perfect blog, column or canvas.

Ending up with an attempt at duplication and nothing more than effort, no heart.

Thankfully, the heart knows clearly and the mind slowly remembers.

Then I’m afforded moments, sort of stumble upon open windows of times that are

Quiet, calm and easy.

And I fill the time with heart, words, and colors

Words come, precise and uncontrived.

Stories flow from relationship, encounter or stillness of memory saved, unfolding without agenda.

Nothing good by force, Lisa.

Art, writing, stories and encounters…life.

Layers soft, colors thick, stories touchable.

Less force, always heart.

More heart.

Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.  

Proverbs 4:23

Create.

Five Minute Friday

Not Be Overtaken

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

Turmoil was all around.

Thoughts and questions about how and when might be the end of grace, of safety and whether calm might return again…before another wave overtook them. Overtakes us.

No Fear of Storms

The water must have been dark, dark and ominous because of the storm and emotion of the day.

Jesus was praying on the mountain, mourning the horrific loss of John, seeking understanding from His Father…doing what He needed to do to continue His calling.

The storm was treacherous and maybe the disciples left on the boat thought, surely this is the end.

The mercy of God has run out on us.

But, Jesus came to them, walked across the waters raging and calmed them, calmed the storm saying: “Do not be afraid.” Matthew 14:27

Take heart. Be assured, truly.

Believing in Mornings

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

The emotion of morning makes believing more possible.

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Opportunity,  like sunlight through the tall trees in the side yard, is almost here. If I am patient and look towards the morning as it spreads across the day, I choose to believe.

If I am patient and look towards the morning as it spreads across the day, I am sure of my choice to believe.

Quietly, assuredly, right on time.

It’s no wonder I love the morning.

I love its clarity and confidence, love its comfort and cocoon-like embrace.

I woke feeling slow and tired, disguising discouragement in more acceptable words.

I woke in need of the morning.

Like choice of word, I sometimes ride the fence of emotion.

Choose to look too far ahead or too far back.

But, morning gives a chance to pause, gives reason to believe.

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I  read Matthew 13, a series of little stories. Jesus using them to teach about choices. How to plant seeds, care for them and how you should let the weeds grow amongst the wheat.

Later you’d know what didn’t belong and you’d harvest good things.

Jesus talked about heaven as a treasure, a pearl and about the smallest of all seeds, mustard that would grow tall…so tall that birds filled its branches.

I thought, “Thank you, Lord, I so love the birdsong”.

 

And morning, reminded me then, aren’t we worth more than many sparrows if we would only believe it true?

The people were confounded by His parables, found them ridiculous and nonsensical.

So, he left them there with his stories.

And he did not do many mighty works there, because of their unbelief.

Matthew 13: 58

I go back to the side yard, abundant in bloom thinking again of choice.

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Then, decide to pray and to believe.

The bigger and heavier the disdain, the more powerful and possible the prayer.

Deciding to believe, choosing to pray.

Believing in mighty things.

Every morning

 

 

 

Life and Treasure

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

I noticed it there.

The early morning humidity touched my face like a clothes dryer opened to reach for clean towels. Clinging to my skin thick, unwelcoming and uninviting, I fill bowls with cool water for the dogs and glance toward the corner of porch.

Such a heavy morning, blah, slow moving pessimistically blah

I see it and move to capture it, getting closer to notice its frayed edged wings.

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Black velvet and azure blue with little specks of bronze, I’m careful as I reach for it, my thumb and finger delicate in grasp.

Wings broken and pressed like a sentimental  bloom, I decide to save it, for the sake of simply feeling fortunate in its finding.

So, I bring the butterfly inside, lie it down on the page of the day’s Psalm and carefully move my Bible to the center of table as I go to make coffee.

The house is quiet and cool, ceiling fan whisping my hair and the butterfly just slightly shifting on thin page of Bible.

I read from Psalm 7, thinking  of harmful and hurtful times.

I thought of anger, fear, lives lost and of blame and judgement, of understable hatred and hatred stirred up.

Thought of my thoughts and I wondered then,  do I really understand?

Could I maybe understand more clearly?

Noticing verses, timely and clear, I pause.

O’ Lord my God, if I have done this, if there is wrong in my hands, If I have repaid my friend with evil…. Test me, you who test our minds and our hearts. Psalm 7:3,9

Help me to see me clearly.

Then, I prayed and wrote and thought of hopes to see more clearly.

To do no harm if I could help.

Like the butterfly, captured and killed on back screen porch.

Could harm have been prevented?

Had it come in to escape the weather or maybe Colt, the happy lab bouncing in the air, excited by its beautiful movement snapped his mouth sharply and clipped its wings?

Brought it to the porch, a delicate and beautiful treasure harmed by rough exchange of play.

But, found by me.

A thing of beauty, tortured, lifeless, but beautiful still.

Life, its beauty remains.

Life, a treasured gift.