Understanding Skies

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

clarity

I’m not one to toss and turn. If I’m troubled, I go to bed.

Say to myself, tomorrow will be another day.

Then, place one hand on my chest and pray.

Silently, easy like water traveling a slow path to a broad river.

With morning and time come newness.

The sky was a wide expanse of cold, pale lavender today.

Its width cloudless and open. Enough open space to learn.

An expansive sky, with just a faint glimmer of sunlight in tall tree.

epiphany

My eyes rested there and remembered my earlier revelation.

I hurt someone’s feelings trying to be right. Looking for answers to a question already known with certainty. I have a few sayings.

One of them is never ask a question you know the answer to.

Asking for trouble. Not answers. Asking to be right when being right makes no difference in the hurt, adds harm to hurt.

I was self-righteous. Smug, hot-headed and determined to point of the wrong in another causing hurt that was never intended.

I begged God to fix my mistake. Not the answer you need, said God.

The answer is seeing, truly seeing.

Epiphany, in an insightfully clear sky.

The manifestation of Christ in me, with me despite errant will.

Looking down, it’s still there. I thought of adding to my collection earlier, decided to let it rest instead.

A petite pine cone, stiff with the cold and shining silver in brown straw.

And I smiled, remembering gifts of baby pine cones she brought.

boots and pinecones

O Lord, you have searched me and known me!

You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
You search out my path and my lying down
and are acquainted with all my ways.

Even before a word is on my tongue,
behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.
You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.

Psalm 139: 1-8

Mid-night scattered thoughts on brevity and prayer

courage, Faith, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized

There’s nothing like 3:00 a.m. logic.

Oh, to be so simply satiated in thoughts, words and actions just hours earlier.

Darkest of dark times. Yet, clear as glass.

What a rambling of text, my attempt to convey hope, my writing earlier.

Thinking I’d present a different perspective on faith.

One sentence, maybe two would have sufficed, been quite the gist of it all.

I had prayed earlier in the day for my friend. Walking down the hallway, I remembered…”you need to pray for Melanie, what we’re hoping for will come true for her.”

Believing what we’ve asked

So, I did. I prayed,

Lord, I’m not quite sure of what all is wrong. What needs to be healed. But, Lord please let this be a time of good news, of healing for Mel.”

Went to sleep then…to be woken by thoughts.

Troubled by the discombobulated collection of words written earlier.

Knowing simplicity would suffice. Less is more. No need to circle around and round pounding my rambling words.

I wondered then what God thinks of us when we pray. I wonder if he, engaged like a reader waiting for new words sometimes longs for brevity.

After all, He knows our thoughts and concerns. He just desires we lay them there at His feet and then turn to rest, trust and wait.

To rise with clarity.

To walk as visuals, examples of simple utterance of need already known.

Today, my read through plan of the Bible led me to Matthew 8.

A collection of the stories of requests for healing, of the healed.

A leper who prayed. A Centurion who prayed for lowly servant. A man praying for his mother-in-law. The busy one longing to follow Jesus, worried over who’d have to be left behind. The many possessed by demons, turning towards a good God.

The fearful in midst of storm, calmed by His presence alone.

I have three friends I’ve not seen in many years. One had a scare last year with her heart. Another’s sweet husband has cancer. And Mel, she’s tough as nails and determined.

And we all are praying and we all are believing.

The Lord has heard my plea. The Lord accepts my prayer. Psalm 6:9

In the morning, when I rise, give me Jesus.

Balloons, Anchors, Hope and Faith

courage, Faith, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, wonder

Walking outside with dogs, hoping for a glimpse of tangerine sunrise and I’m happy to turn back, look up and get crescent moon instead. It’s my favorite moon.

Makes me hopeful for things happening in places I can’t see yet.

Makes me believe, stay faithful.

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for.

Hebrews 11:1

Inspires me not to give up.

Like faith, believing the things I see now.

Things that caught me by surprise.

Hoping for the fullness not seen yet.

Holding onto hope like thumb and index squeezing pretty ribbons trailing balloons.

You may have heard the verse. It’s become the trendy quote, the go-to for hope. The definition of hope, an anchor for your soul.

We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. Hebrews 6:19

There’s strength in this verse. The idea of being firmly secure, able to drift only just so far…our souls in a place of safety, anchored, sure to stay put. That’s a good feeling; but, hope’s something more to me.

Something a little lighter, a little brighter, even whimsical.

Like pretty balloons gathered together for celebration.

Imagine if we all went through our days balloons tied to our wrists or held gingerly as we stopped to acknowledge a friend.

Think of your day, appointments handled, issues resolved, periwinkle colored balloon hovering above your desk.

What joy it would be to turn upon waking and see it there, tied to nightstand drawer pull, moving ever so slightly as you begin your day.

Most of all think of the countenance upon our faces as we paused, intermittently to look towards balloon.

Well, that for me is hope.

It’s looking up towards heaven reminded that hope’s still there.

It’s the crescent moon, crisp and bright against morning sky.

It’s expecting sullen sky and turning back towards home to see pearly white clouds filtering light.

It’s being reminded of what we’ve held in our hand all along.

Hope and faith, balloons and anchors

Linking up with others who Tell His Story

Bibles and Pantsuits

courage, Faith, family, praise, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized

My new Bible, a Christmas gift from Benji and Heather

Every Sunday, she’d ask. “How many daily Bible readers did we have today?” The person who kept the Sunday School record would respond. I waited, scanning the encircled group of class members for expressions as she responded.

“This is the one we thing you all should do…how else will you know how to live?”

For a very long time I rejected her advice, her exhortation felt too much like demand.

Puffed up and independent minded, I reminded myself that I would not concede to pressure. I would not be made to feel inadequate or a sinner by not following one person’s ideas or rules.

My grandma, “Bama” had varicose veins. Big, thick purple bulges held down by thick rubber-like pantyhose that went up above her knees.

She wanted to go to church; but, felt unwelcome. She had to wear slacks, sharp little pantsuits.

She stopped attending church after a bit.

Stopped after judgemental glances from other women dressed in pastel colored dresses with hummingbird pins on their scarves, matching purse in one hand, tightly clenched smiles and fingers wrapped around their Bibles.

Bama, dressed in crisp pantsuit, sharp and fashionable, yet scorned.

I wear pants to church most Sundays, it’s okay, feels right to me.

Not for Bama though, back then.

The preacher, continued on admonishing errant ways of ladies in pants and other behaviors that most likely would lead to burning in hell.

I never understood why wearing pants was wrong back then. My grandmother must have been hurt. She never let it show.

I was.

I don’t recall her ever complaining. She just stayed home.

A preacher’s daughter unwelcome in the church

Yet, she always had her Bible, her little Gideon New Testament in her purse and King James version beside her bed.

I remember her nightly ritual.

I’ve seen my name in the margins of her Bible.

I cherish the image of dimly lit bedroom, me sometimes there beside her, pretending to sleep, under thick quilts.

Sleeping with Bama on Friday nights, careful not to brush against her legs.

Quiet, sweet, calm nights with Bama.

Lying next to her, before sleep Bible reading.

Obedience to God, not people.

I’m a daily Bible reader now. It’s not an obedient-like requirement or a response to curtail retribution or chastisement.

It’s not an avoidance of punishment or hardship; rather, for me an act of expectant submission.

Anticipation of revelation and comfort.

God, revealing new things, His words exhorting me to continue or comforting me in my missteps, misfortune.

I know that to know God is to read His word.

Know that choosing to live with God’s word in my heart and mind is the most certain way to see clearly my life as God designed.

So, I cherish my Bible. I cherish my mornings, marking in the margins of my Bible, like Bama.

Morning by morning he awakens; He awakens my ear to hear.

Isaiah 50: 4

Preparing Him Room

Faith, family, grace, praise, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

In all the busyness, the hosting, the planning and the preparing…

Prepare Him Room.

Breathe in his presence and sit with it.

His gift of grace like the spot known as yours on the sofa, next to the twinkle of tree now, it’s Christmas.

Peace, be still and Alleluja

Solace and love there

Heaven and nature singing above and around.

I’ve invited Him in.

Prepared Him room.

Revel in and then rest there, His presence in your room.

Let every heart prepare Him Room.

For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Isaiah 9:6

Yesterday and Today

courage, Faith, praise, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, wonder

Yesterday started with daylight only sparsely present. I walked outside and noticed the clouds shifting in a swooping motion.

It was supposed to be more chilly, I thought. My daughter said, “It hasn’t moved through yet. It’s coming.”

And it did, we had dinner after shopping later, the wind cold and the sky filling with stars above a fuzzy peace sunset.

I remembered earlier in the day, I had sat aside the Advent Card for Day 20, noticing the image so much like stars, clouds, waiting for change.

Little triangle shapes like Christmas trees planted for next year’s home.

little trees growing

Thinking of how nervous and anxious I was on Thursday for what I’d be doing Friday, speaking in front a large group, cameras, prominent people…but I was okay, it was okay.

Yesterday was good. Good and unexpected things made me smile. There was some bad, some annoying and out of nowhere mean, sharp words.

A good day, but a long one.

Yesterday becoming today.

Yesterday was good. Today will be too.

We’re closer to Christmas, closer to Christ.

Come thou long expected Jesus.

But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.

She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”

Matthew 1:20-21

Angel moon and stars

Children, courage, Faith, family, praise, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

The moon tonight had an angelic halo type haze circled around.

Many years ago, we’d made it back home from my mama’s funeral and had collapsed back into the house.

Worn, weary and drained.

Grief has a way of doing that.

You go through the motions of the ceremonial last gathering and when you’re done…you’re really done and emptied of most everything.

But, on that night almost six years ago, my nephew called.

Told us all, “Go outside, look at the moon…grandma Bette is looking down.”

And we did, my daughter and I, walked out into the cold January night and turned towards heaven to see the moon.

To stay there in that place, moonlit bright, shiny and fuzzy with glow as we felt mama, Grandma Bette looking down.

Tonight, the moon looked the same and I paused, not sorrowful or longing for backward steps; instead moving on as I drove.

Secure in the presence of moon, of mama.

Weaving on roads with few other people out, a cool night, stars all around and a crescent moon with a soft glow.

Making my way back home to son, daughter, husband and dogs…the glow of Christmas to greet me, the colors of Jesus filling the rooms.

I thought of the stars again, imagining how brightly they must have shone on the night our Savior was born, unobstructed by city light, by busy life.

I thought of shepherds following one star.

I wondered if they were convinced or unsure.

Doubted whether to continue on…following a star.

I wondered if their only hope was hope enough, to glance upward to stay on course, continuing on because of the one they were seeking.

The long expected one to guide us when star shine faded.

… they went on their way, and the star they had seen when it rose went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was.

When they saw the star, they were overjoyed.

Matthew 2:9-10

Overjoyed by where the star led them.

Like me, maybe my nephew, my daughter, nieces, brothers and sister. We look towards the moon that leads us to remember, its aura, like an angel with halo.

We pause to lift our faces towards heaven.

Keeping Peace

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To adore, despite

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photo-25_kindlephoto-15293171 Someone told me once, of marriage…”Peaks and valleys, Lisa, peaks and valleys.”

Wisdom, these words, so true of life, marriage, relationships, of our ability “to people”.

So, the craziness and conflict peak nonetheless and we rebel against it, even more disgruntled..

It’s Christmas after all.

The more we push back the stronger the resistance ’til it’s all ironed out or let go and we settle back down

We decide to let it be. We refuse to allow our joy to be snapped up by whatever crazy, ugly or just complicated may be.

We choose for ourselves to adore Him, Christ the Lord, despite.

Come adore Jesus. Come see what God has done. Revere Christ as King. Imagine this King as a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. (Luke 2:12)

Finding light, calm and bright

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

What an irony that I drove back country roads to church feeling empowered by God, yet surrounded by ominous gray sky.

Most mornings, after some time of quiet, I’m rejuvenated and stirred in a way that increases my faith. Depending on the day, I may walk in trust all day, or may not even leave the house before I feel less trusting. Hope is like the air inside a brightly colored balloon, it’s what keeps our faces tilted towards God.

Imagine the hopelessness of Mary about to give birth and of Joseph, her companion and support on this journey of believing only because God said it would be accomplished…as they were turned away again and again…no room for you.

Yet, I believe on that night of seeking a place to rest, they were silent in their search for shelter, all was calm and all was bright.

Despite the dark unknown.

Advent, Day 15

Such is a life of faith, of seeking to be close to God. It’s darkness and it’s light, calm and sometimes bright.

It’s mainly journeying with the heart and mindset of one seeking a place to feel safe, sheltered and at peace.

And looking for light, creating light.

	Lisa Brittain on Women of Faith
	Lisa Anne Tindal on Women of Faith
	smoker4mom on Women of Faith
	juliedibblewrites on Embracing
	Lisa Anne Tindal on Shine On