Vulnerability

Wonder Why

bravery, Children, courage, Faith, family, Peace, Prayer, Vulnerability, wonder

I’m prompted to write in response to “Why” and hope to stay concise, hope more to make sense of wondering why.

I agreed as I have before to meet a parent who was considering joining our suicide bereavement group; but, wasn’t quite sure.

My role in this exchange is to listen. I acknowledge I do not fully understand, I just listen, make my workspace their safe space. So, I listened to a father talk about his son and say he had no idea why, why his son decided to complete suicide.

Years ago, I escorted a parent from my office and the issue over believing in God or not came up.

We both wondered how you get by without God, without believing in His comfort and His knowledge. As if it’s an answer to no answer. We don’t know; but, God knows.

So, if there’s anything good about never knowing it’s at least a certainty to know that only God knows.

I suppose when there’s no answer, you eventually maybe can rest in “only God knows”.

That was my rationale and I wished I’d recorded it back then ’cause right now I’m not getting it quite so clearly the way I meant and felt. (reader, you can agree)

A father shared how the mother was worried about heaven or hell. The child had never believed; parents always questioned, maybe believed some things and wavered on others finally giving up altogether because of what circumstances in their lives it seemed God turned a blind eye to.

I responded because I felt he waited for me somehow to reassure, brush off the concerns or as if I, not only was a listener but some skilled and astute theologian.

I’m neither astute nor very theologically skilled. I base my belief on my life experiences with God and God showing me I matter significantly to Him.

I’m a beaten and battered ever questioning sinner saved by grace who believes because of answers to prayers and because I know the me that not believed and I’d not ever want to be her again.

The father waited.

I said what God gave me. “What happens between God and people is personal and there may have been a decision he made, a change in heart and choice to toss out the intellect for the faith and hope and mysterious grace.”

What I intended as consolation caused an expression of concern, confusion and the tone of our talk changed and I went with the change as was appropriate.

But, it bothered me it was not my “place” to say more. It bothered me that I’d never know if that relationship with God happened for his son. It bothered me that the father did not have the Father as a comfort for himself.

The comfort of the only thing that might make sense be the sense made by God.

“Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.”

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:7‬ ‭NLT‬‬

The truth of His peace, tangible and ever-present, the truth of His Sovereignty and His abhorrence of evil, evil things, evil people and the power through which they touch us.

Touch some so much more than others.

I don’t know how it feels to lose a child. I cannot say I can feel the emotions I should feel as I’m drawn to the photos of children outside their school, surviving but forever traumatized. I do not know how parents feel who were looking for their teenager, frantic, their chests surely caving into their backbones only to be told what they imagined coming true, their son, their daughter, one of the victims in a school.

I do know; I too, I’m afraid would wonder why.

Why God allows terror and tragedy.

But, I pray I’d not wander far, I’d remember His peace and I’d not abandon or question or dispose of what I believe, what I know. What I’m reminded of every minute, every day.

I pray I’d be at peace with not being all knowing and that eventually, the grief would be less evident, less debilitating and dreadful if I was able not to wonder why.

Would it be sufficient for me to remember some things are secret, are not to be known here on earth by me?  Perhaps, knowing not knowing might ease the pain.

The secret things belong to the Lord your God. Deuteronomy 29:29

I really can’t say, for I’ve not experienced secrets like these.

Ever.

One thing I do know; God would know and be okay with me wondering why and He would welcome my desperate and pleading complaint.

Responding with a peace only He can give, I suppose like a “secret” peace I’ve committed to knowing, not always understanding, often wondering why it’s mine to embrace, still committed to know it more.

My Occasional Limp

bravery, courage, Faith, grace, mercy, Redemption, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I rose to greet my friend the other day and she cocked her head to the side, she noticed my struggle.

My sort of favoring the weight landing on one leg not the other. “What’s going on with your leg?” she asked.

I answered, “I’m old!” and she smiled that wise smile that always says I know you so very well.

Thing is, something’s up with my knee and that nerve that we name as if it’s our nuisance of a relative who comes back around… “Oh, my sciatica is back.”

Yeah, I prefer to just roll with it, the changing of my body. The choice to not remember my mama’s knee surgery that began the decline and the piling on of medications and other compromises and complications that caused her to die.

I’m not my mother; but, I am beginning to pay attention more to the things I’d decided not to know, always making efforts to deny.

Can’t help but pay attention to my slight change in my walk, to the shifting of things weighty, one part compensating for the other, hoping to disguise.

I wondered yesterday, should we walk, should I break into a little intermittent run, sort of experiment with the knee pain, toy with its ability, test to see how much it could take?

Should I keep pushing my limit?

Yes, decidedly “movement is medicine”.

Colt, the big brown lab was beyond thrilled and listened as I told him sit, stayed in a brisk rhythm with me with the tug of the collar and we had an awesome walk together!

Nearing the end of the neighborhood, we were strolling and he was stopping for smells. On the phone with my sister in law, a white flash of object on the curve and corner.

A vehicle off the road, dug up and leveled the street sign flat then entered and exited the ditch and ended up on the road as if she’d just stopped to rest or re-navigate.

When she opened the door and freed herself from the airbag, I asked “Are you okay?” and she just stood for a minute then said she guessed she wasn’t paying attention.

She was okay, unharmed. Her car was not. Later, my sister in law and my neighbor called to make sure we were okay.

My neighbor says she’s stopped walking that way. My sister in law said maybe I shouldn’t be walking that way anymore.

I retorted, “I’m not gonna stop walking. It’s my thing, the closest to being in the country as I can get. I enjoy it and nobody’s gonna take it from me!”

Went on to say, people see me walking, they know our pattern. We get as close to the ditch as we can and we stop next to the big empty field and sometimes even sit there to rest.

Thing is, the brand new SUV which happens to be a newer version of my “new” car would have most likely thrown Colt and I into the air had we been only a minute or so farther in our walk.

I don’t know where we’d have ended up or what shape we’d be in, how far gone we might have been.

This morning, I’m reading from the Book of Hebrews and I’ve written a pretty firm “disciplinary note” to self.

A note about my walk, about the way I walk, about paying attention and knowing I’m being paid attention to.

About being very careful lest I lose my connection to God, lest I lose my ability to make disciples due to my lack of discipline.

Lest I lose that knowing what it is He knows is mine to do, lest I drift too far away.

My sister in law and I agreed, I need to pay more attention and I woke clearly hearing God say, “Pay attention to these things I am showing you.”

“Pay attention, Lisa.”

Take notice of what and who I’ve brought into your presence to teach you.

“You will see your teacher with your own eyes. Your own ears will hear him. Right behind you a voice will say, “This is the way you should go,” whether to the right or to the left.”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30:20-21‬ ‭NLT‬‬

The woman who careened frighteningly into the ditch and back out, she was unharmed; but, also wobbly in speech and stature, I believed she should not drive and when she tried, I explained to her she couldn’t.

She, a teacher for me.

A flat tire, no windshield and air bags blocking the view, I worked hard to convince her she was unable to go any farther.

She had gone too far already.

She needed to stay put, not take any more chances, dangerously testing providence and grace.

My neighbor said her husband came, I’m not sure where it all went from there. I was worried about her and for her; but, I didn’t want to know the consequences, see them play out.

Today, I’m paying closer attention to what it is God has to say about some of my ways in my walk and how my limp might be beginning to be more noticeable, more a handicap, less moderated.

My walk less straight and focused, my vision blurred by occasional choices teetering on the edge of becoming regular rituals.

I’m not condemning myself, just taking note, standing straight and being a cautious student and a noticer of my surroundings.

Making sure the occasional limp doesn’t cause me to fall, doesn’t level me flat on my face and unable to recognize my violent turns off the right road, onto the wrong path.

“Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed.”

‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭12:12-13‬ ‭ESV‬‬

My knee is tender, but my walk is straight today and of my path, I’m more attentive.

My heart and soul not made lame and shamed by my understanding; but, healed and renewed anew.

We all stumble in many ways, over choices, chances taken, patterns established and left uncontrolled. But if we are to be disciples we must be attentive to our self-discipline.

We must be attentive to the One who is watching over us, longing for our consistent notice.

“He will not let you stumble; the one who watches over you will not slumber.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭121:3‬ ‭NLT‬‬

linking up with others who tell their stories of God in our days.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/let-tell-story-behind-photo/

Silent with Wisdom

bravery, courage, Faith, grace, mercy, Peace, praise, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Stillness, Teaching, Trust, Vulnerability

It’s gray and slow moving here. I love it so, a day that falls open waiting for me to fill, sans obligations.

I looked in the back of my Bible to direct me to the next words for today. First though, my thick book covered in cobalt blue fell open to the Book of Job.

Job always teaches me.

His condition, his surrender in the beginning, his confusion, his loneliness, his distress and maybe, eventually surrendering and accepting the life he knew will never be again.

I always learn from how he is battered by the abandonment and loss and yet open to learning from God, knowing God is still not just God, but His God!

Chastised by friends, cajoled to curse God and then having a discussion with his friend about God essentially saying tell God how you feel if you’d like because you don’t belong in this pit, you belong in the light.

I’m glad I have a couple of friends who pull me out of my pits, tell me I don’t belong there.

The verses towards the end of Chapter 33 are underlined in thick ink and have asterisks next to them and this is where my Bible fell open on this foggy, thoughtful morning.

This place and then Luke 1, the words of the angel to Mary reminding me the things I feel are impossible are possible with God.

“He has redeemed my soul from going down into the pit, and my life shall look upon the light.

Behold, God does all these things, twice, three times…to bring back his soul from the pit, that he may be lighted with the light of life.

Pay attention, O Job, listen to me; be silent, and I will speak. If you have any words, answer me; speak, for I desire to justify you. If not, listen to me; be silent, and I will teach you wisdom.”

‭‭Job‬ ‭33:30-33‬ ‭ESV‬‬

We were not created for the pit, the pit may be a place we go, wallow in, get trapped, either by choice or circumstance.

We are not meant to stay there, meant to emerge clearly wiser and more softened by His light.

Thank you, Heavenly Father for thoughtful thick mornings and for causing my Bible to open in the places I need reminding, need to be silent and grow more wise.

In Jesus name and because of mercy,

Amen

What Privilege

Abuse Survivor, bravery, Children, Faith, family, grace, mercy, Motherhood, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Salvation, Serving, Trust, Uncategorized, Unity, Vulnerability

Prompted to write for five minutes on the word “Privilege”, I remembered last night the privilege to understand other women, them to understand me. I was one of four who spoke of being a victim of abuse.

Then, I recalled a mama joining in our discussion on bullying at our suicide prevention meeting earlier in the day. I was moved by her memories. Her daughter, now a professional and an adult, was intelligent, beautiful, the top in her class; yet, she did not walk onto the football field in an extravagant dress to be given her crown.

She quickly changed into her cheerleader uniform to carry out her part on the team. She was, afterwards met by vulgar comments about how “special she thought she was.”

Her mama said to this day she never talks about her Senior year of high school. So, I asked and her reply made me understand more clearly how I might be privileged when, honestly I’d struggled before to understand.

I asked, “So, your daughter was bullied by girls because she was beautiful and smart and because of race?”

“Yes.” she replied.

I understand more clearly what I’ll never understand fully.

But, this morning I’m thinking about another the privilege.

The privilege to take it to the Lord in prayer, the verse in the old hymn that talks about what a friend Jesus is and what a privilege to “carry everything to the Lord in prayer.”

Jesus, my friend seated right next to the Father is advocating for me, interceding on my behalf, surely I felt His presence last night as I took the stage before the sharing of “my story”.

I felt His presence, what a privilege,

The reason I add a little extra before my “in Jesus name”, a little extra closing to keep me ever humbly grateful.

“Because of mercy….”

Linking this post up on this blessed Friday morning with others who are considering “privilege”. Join us here: http://fiveminutefriday.com/2018/02/08/fmf-link-up-privilege/

Entrusted and Commended

bravery, Children, courage, family, grace, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I love when the words mean what I recalled them meaning, when they fit “just so” like an extra throw pillow placed to complement the look.

Stand back, content in everything coming together, settling into what is needing to be seen, understood.

I rearranged the guest room, the place I call my “writing room”. Simple before, yes. Colors that were meant to calm, I’ve changed to vibrant.

Inspiring maybe!

Photos all over the place, one of my daddy in Hawaii in a Hawaiian shirt standing next to a horse on widest looking ocean shore!

The thought of it always fascinates me. He in Hawaii with my mama.

Another of my Heather at the County Fair on the back of a pony, sweetest, biggest smile, her blonde hair wispy about her face and the denim of her overalls making her blue eyes pop!

Austin as a toddler bent over to drink from a garden hose, his hair combed and fresh from his bath, summer evening, I let them play ’til late during that season.

I had a parenting revelation last week. I made note of my need to “commend” them to God. I loved the word, how perfectly appropriate it seemed for parenting adult children.

Commending them to God, simply means recognizing my part’s been done, I now turn them over to God for the rest.

He gave them to me, entrusted me with their care, now requires I commend them to him, a requirement that means freedom, not a task; but, one of those things you see clearly God meant as a gift.

Then, another exchange, my child, my teacher again with words with others.

I’d been using a word that again I decided was just right! I’d been talking to other moms, one of them my sister, another my cousin. I’d come to understand I must let my children “individuate”, to be who they wanted to be.

Crazy how a psych major didn’t remember all the research, all the big deal damage discussed about parents who fail to allow it.

Strange, I know and I’ve known this all along; just hadn’t used the descriptor that research has recorded volumes of work on.

Parents who don’t allow their children to individuate are damaging their boys and girls, setting up patterns mostly negative and rebellious, even destructive emotionally.

“Webster” helped me here and I jotted my version, “allowing someone to become themselves”.

Hand in hand, commending them to God, entrusting them to God come what may and come what will based on their minds, their hearts, their abilities and even their wills that I pray come to a place of lining up with His.

I wasn’t always the best at this. I understand why. Call it culture or background or dogged determination to parent differently than we were, I was prone to being ever aware of everything and my children’s successes and their very living and breathing was an absolute thrill to watch.

A thrill-seeking thing!

My son came home to get his guitar, wanted to have it at school. I imagined him playing, was so very excited he’d be picking it back up!

I softened my response though, decided this was not about me. This is his deciding to play around with the guitar because he wants to, not because I thought it was cool, or because my daddy played guitar or because I’d arranged lessons before or even because he knew how much I loved hearing the sounds down the hall.

No, I buffered my excitement. I decided to let this be his, not mine.

My daughter is so very talented in lettering. We could be “creatives” together. I had our signature down pat and our little logo “HB-LT”. She, the words, I the art.

But, she said not now, mama and I’ve surprised myself by not begging, insisting, making it about me and my idea of her.

Of us.

Because, I see they are quite okay on their own and I am learning to wait for my lovingly sought after intrusion, for invitation to give insight and even tougher, to know when to insert my knowledge, my advice.

Parenting adult children, I decided is tough because you don’t get to see their faces every day, you don’t have the absolute comfort of “eyeballing” them as a way to tap into intuitiveness to allow your mind to rest from all the stories it writes in their living elsewhere.

They are to be entrusted to God and the good things of their choosing, chosen by God, not me, for them.

“…they commended them to the Lord, on whom they believed.”

‭‭Acts‬ ‭14:23‬ ‭KJVA‬‬

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee at Tell His Story. visit here: http://jenniferdukeslee.com/which-voice-do-you-hear/

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My Saturday’s Share

Abuse Survivor, bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, Homeless, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Serving, Stillness, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder

Reading your words from another “space” is hard to describe. Sometimes there’s anxiety. Sometimes there’s awe. Always, there’s the yearning to pick them up, hold them, bring them to my chest to say, “it’s alright, you were brave, you are you”.

I was awakened by this message and unintentionally did a screen shot. Yet, there are no coincidences with God, his desire is that my joy may be full.

“Until now you have asked nothing in my name. Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full.”

‭‭John‬ ‭16:24‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I read my post early this morning and it caused new thoughts, new understanding of “asking for help”.

Asking for Help

This comment below on Lisa’s blog describes how God has brought others into my life to grow me and to show me I am loved:

“This post is still teaching me about Jesus, about His humility and His ever present willingness to help me. This morning, it’s reminding me that none of this is about me, only Him through me…I just get the chances to let Him shine. It’s pretty amazing the things our soul tells us when we slow down and listen.

I complain about my “job” sometimes. It’s a field everyone mentions “burn out”, carrying the things I hear and see all day, mental illness, domestic violence, child neglect, homelessness, suicide. Here’s the thing, writing this piece has shown me…if God had not placed me in this position almost nine years ago, I’d never have just gone out on my own to help/to serve. So, praise Him and thank you, Lisa, for the space for all of this to clearly land strongly.”

Live Lightly

Faith, grace, mercy, rest, Stillness, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I can’t decide whether it’s the quote which inspires these posts, the images so divine and perfectly selected to portray the thought, or the emotion of “oh, wow.” that settles over me each time I’m happy to be satisfied by “Lightly Child, Lightly”.

“It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.” Aldous Huxley

 

Visit David Kanigan below and maybe be compelled to take it a little easier on yourself, let God be God and let it be.

 

At least that’s what these posts do for me.

Lightly Child, Lightly.

http://davidkanigan.com/2018/02/01/lightly-child-lightly-154/

Songbirds Singing

Faith, grace, Peace, rest, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

Two weeks since we walked. Cold some days and gone the others.

I kicked off my boots, switched to the Nikes and left the sweater, the pants, just added big hoodie.

We began with a light stepping run.

I realized the ease.

Realized the difference.

Walking then, I noticed the birds, tiny, tiny and gray little things the size of my palm.

Others in the barren branches waiting the tiny sparrow’s fairly novice flight.

Sounds all around, impossible to see, to know where from, birds singing like Spring.

Soft, I decided. If I touched them, they’d be soft. I wondered how it could be so strong, so small, seemed so very new, newborn.

Brought to mind the song from before, the days I sat with college girls and we yearned over the long, longings…so far away and so long ago before…

For you, there’ll be no more crying…And the songbirds are singing, like they know the score.

Fleetwood Mac, Rumours

From then, we walked easy even though daylight was dimming.

I stopped because of skinny branches I thought were pretty and I let the Labrador pause to smell the earth underneath.

I waited for the sky to go coral and then we turned towards home.

Remembering why we walk, finding what waits to be noticed.

Privilege and Memory

Children, courage, Faith, family, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Last week, I woke to the smell of warm and delicious.

Bacon, I wondered?

I’d forgotten to buy it and we had talked of grilled cheese sandwiches thick with pork for my sweet son-in-law.

Homemade tomato basil soup was the plan, the sharp cheddar mingled with bacon.

But, I’d forgotten, or was there bacon after all?

I woke up slowly, had words in my mind and some in my hand, added those that were for me using thin leaded pencil on my page in my book called “What God can Do”.

The little room with the window welcoming the day once the curtain had been pushed aside.

Two days here, three nights and sleep wrapped ’round me deeply.

I rested well.

I’m lazy today, the one caring for the one in the kitchen.

My daughter, recovering from surgery and I’ve settled in, grown accustomed to being down the hall, being with her.

Soft footsteps shuffle my way and I look towards the slightly open door.

My daughter brings me breakfast, a burst of energy this morning she says and I say “oh, sausage!” and she says pancakes, good for you, honey not syrup and blueberries on the side.

I stretched my legs long towards the foot of the old bed and indulged as if privileged to be here and knowing surely, I’ll remember.

This morning before I drive her to her places.

We spent the day together, me driving like before. The day, a schedule this, then that and I felt like a mama with the itinerary in place. Still getting better; but, told not to drive.

We treated ourselves to a lunch that made us both feel like we’d never dined. Fancy coffee, fancy little corner we perched and we made a memory.

We made lunch an occasion.

Privileged I am and fortunate for sure.

For I’ve enough little memories of pancakes and times together and sweet little spaces that I’d never have gone,

Were it not for the privilege of being mama and being asked to be with

To be with the one who causes my faith not to waver, who believes, always believes.

Morning Glories

bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, heaven, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Stillness, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I woke up in the country and threw back the curtain to this wide open sky.

Yesterday, we saw the workers pruning the branches, making ways for the bright growth soon bursting through. I’ll ride these roads to my girl’s a month from now or so and I’ll be barely able to close my eyes because of all the majestic beauty of peach season!

Isn’t that what God does?

He holds our hand through the enduring, makes us new and strong in our growth, promises us a glorious new season if we’ll let him cut us from the old.

To stop wearing our old tattered and faded garments, to dress in his newness.

Morning glories, realizations filled to the brim, awaiting my drinking in and feeling led to pouring out like cream in warm coffee.

I’m without my devotionals, three of my daily ones; but, I’ve a new one called “Joy and Strength”. The quotes and the verses are ancient wisdom. The numbers, numeral and Roman, causing a longer pause.

So far, two days in and aligning with my season.

Preparing me to be re-planted in God’s freshly broken up ground.

My cousin gifted me the new one, maybe knowing I needed my soul made new.

No, most assuredly I know, it was God knowing, prompting her to know.

“No one sews a piece of unshrunk cloth on an old garment. If he does, the patch tears away from it, the new from the old, and a worse tear is made.”

‭‭Mark‬ ‭2:21‬ ‭ESV‬‬

The wisdom of the new little book I’ll open to find daily words, words that focus on after here and about what will matter then.

The truth of not just earth; but, heaven too.

Heaven more.

“But according to his promise we are waiting for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells.”

‭‭2 Peter‬ ‭3:13‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Without my set routine, not in my morning spot, my books, pencil and my Bible.

I began to wonder how I might otherwise find what God would have me know.

I looked through the wide and uncurtained kitchen window and decided it will be good to look to the day to hear, to see and to know.

And because the kitchen, the pots and the bowls, none of them were familiar or like mine,

My daughter made us oatmeal, the old way, on top of the stove.

And I tasted and saw that it was good.

So good.

So new and morning gloriously good!

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee and others who “Tell His Story”

You can join us here: http://jenniferdukeslee.com/