waiting

The Book of Luke – 24 Days of Jesus, an Advent Experience

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It Matters to Me

Luke, Chapter 3 is evidence of the writer’s intellect, I decide. Luke, a physician explored and recorded the lineage of Jesus. It would be easy to avoid the 15 verses with challenging names, like skipping over the Book of Leviticus on yet another plan to read through the Bible.

But, it is relevant, this lineage, this record of ancestry.

All the relatives of Joseph and thereby Jesus, the Son of God.

“the son of Enos, the son of Seth, the son of Adam, the son of God.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭3:38‬ ‭ESV‬‬

It matters to me, the humanity of Jesus, the lining up of people, just like the people lined up before me.

Makes me reflect on our genetics and our similarities, the ones before me, making straight my way through the memories of their own ways.

“Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall become straight, and the rough places shall become level ways,”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭3:5‬ ‭ESV‬‬

My grandma made the best of paths she may have thought might be straight, she made it through the crooked places and leveled her life with scripture and determination, she always made a way.

I told my “Aunt Boo” that I felt my grandma with me and in me. I’ve sold hand-painted Christmas cards this year.

I remembered her carefully designing her velvety Christmas ornaments, covered in pieces and parts of old jewelry.

She used the long stick pins and carefully created elaborate pieces. I see her now.

She’s in the room they added on, the double bed filled up the room and there was space just wide enough for her beside it. She retreated to this place, I was invited in to sit quietly on the bed.

A dresser was covered with sectioned flat containers, sparkly, metallic, extravagant and antique. She stood for hours, her tiny frame steady, her hands working constantly. No words spoken and her mouth set just so, her tongue tipped up toward the curve of her lip, peeking through, she worked with her mouth “set just right”.

She was industrious. She placed the ornaments in big flat boxes and with her little memorandum pad, she loaded her car and she made her deliveries.

I am forever impacted by her choice to pursue something so joyful, to do something that was fully and completely her choice to do.

It matters to me, this characteristic of my grandmother in me.

I’ve been selling my art again.

Luke reminds us that everything is purposeful and everything matters.

In the first verses of Chapter 3, John begins to tell of a new concept, repentance and forgiveness of sins. Isaiah the prophet had written of John, a voice that would come from the wilderness. The same John who “jumped” in his mother, Elizabeth’s womb while in the room with Mary, pregnant with Jesus, this John would baptize many and baptize Jesus.

And Jesus heard his father, God say, “you are my son”.

“Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heavens were opened, and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form, like a dove; and a voice came from heaven, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.””

‭‭Luke‬ ‭3:21-22‬ ‭ESV‬‬

It’s doubtful I’ll ever be a theologian, doubtful I’ll return to any further education.

Life and God are my teachers now.

Life, the enormity of it around me, exposure to wisdom, thoughts, experiences. God helps me see the relevance of Him in it all.

I’ve just finished reading an article I’ll read again and maybe more. The wisdom of a man over why his ancestry is significant, why clarity matters, why approaching things hidden or unexplored is something we all should do.

It is never too late.

Two gentlemen, both guys who are wise and caring and ones I respect, pointed me in the direction of this piece.

Bruce Springsteen

We are all individuals formed by those who made us. Our heredity is more than physical, it is experiential.

It is a brave choice to consider the weaving of our ways, to look at them and say, oh, I see now this horrible or wonderful thing, how it made me, me.

Some might wonder what these thoughts have to do with Christmas. I get that.

I don’t know why; but, I said a long series of “thank you, Gods” beside my bed today. It began and then just became a spontaneous building of more and more. God kept up the conversation, brought to memory all of my before to say hey, look at now!

This life I have, this life I know.

It is absolutely a life of hope. My lineage and my life experiences at one time convinced me it could never be so.

Like Luke details the way the 30 year old Jesus came to be, it is similar for you and me.

The breath of heaven that brought Jesus is the same breath of God that created you and me.

On purpose and with purpose that life causes us to sometimes lose. I told someone yesterday I wish I hadn’t returned to art so late in life.

One of my thank yous this morning was that I am here and I have art and life and so much more.

I have hope.

Advent, the days before Christmas, these are the days to have hope.

It matters to me that my grandma chose hope, that she became independent in her pursuit of making beautiful things, that she was about my age when she began this thing that kept her captivated, made her feel significant, brought joy to so many.

It matters to me that I got to see what I didn’t understand as hope back then, but understand it now.

She prepared the way for me. I pray I’m preparing the way for my own daughter, my son and all the other children yet to come.

Luke, a Book about the life of Jesus. I’m no seminarian, I’m just sharing what he’s bringing to light …24 Days of Jesus, my Advent Experience.

Hope.

The Book of Luke – 24 Days of Jesus, an Advent Experience

Advent, Angels, bravery, confidence, Faith, family, memoir, mercy, Motherhood, sons, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

I mentioned I knew little of Advent before. I acted as if I did when my cousin gifted me with a package containing images to display, to mark each day.

Now, this year I can’t find the Advent activity and most likely won’t be going back to search through the attic.

Instead, I saw something going around on social media. I’ll read and reflect on a chapter of Luke for 24 days, a look at the life and death and resurrection of the baby that became my Savior.

December 2, I began:

Reading a chapter of the Book of Luke a day, 24 days, for Advent, a new way to honor the tradition, to truly connect with Christmas.

In the 1st chapter, Elizabeth and Zechariah, although old, realize they’ll be parents to John, the one who’ll make way for Jesus.

Elizabeth feels her baby move as soon as Mary, with child, enters the room. Mary is surprised, uncertain, but settles into the surprise of being chosen. It’s the beginning, the beautiful beginning. Everything must’ve felt uncertain, maybe even giddy.

A baby changes everything.

December 3, Luke 2:

The chapter covers a whole lot of life. I wish Luke had lingered longer in several places. I’d like to have known more about Jesus in the manger, about little boy Jesus in the temple, about Jesus being described by his father Joseph, about the way Mary’s face appeared, her emotion as she took it all in, as she listened and pondered.

Jesus Found at The Temple

I wish I could have been amongst the people.

I believe for miles around the angels’ song was heard, the one that followed their calming of the throng, assuring them not to be afraid, through a song.

“”Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭2:14‬ ‭ESV‬‬

One verse captivates me this year. Possibly because I will soon “go by grandma”.

It makes all of this divine story so human. After the angels announced the birth, they ascended back to heaven. The shepherds made way to see the baby and there must have been a commotion, a flurry of comments and conversation.

Like we are today, waiting room waiters, nursery window peering and chances to be invited in finally, oh, to see the baby!

I imagine there were questions of Joseph and a paparazzi like reaction. To be the first to see what had been spoken of, hoped for and possibly disbelieved…what a special occasion!

There he was, a baby born to a teenage virgin, the one God sent his angels to welcome into our world.

Mary, oblivious to the crowd, cradles her baby.

I love this part. the part every woman who has ever given birth knows.

I love the realization of the miraculous.

Mary swaddled Jesus and simply “pondered”. Luke includes no description of her expression, I imagine a serenity, a glow.

“But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭2:19‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Today, on this 2nd Day of Advent, I’m praying with “I will” rather than “help me”. I’m remembering Mary and her acceptance of what became her opportunity, the time she was chosen for.

I’ve decided to shift my mindset of “hope so” to deliberately so. It might be what I have been missing, might allow me to forgo regret over what I’ve not finished and replace it with resolve to carry it through.

That’s what Mary did.

She believed what God told her He would accomplish in her.

Luke may have left out their late night discussions, she and Joseph still so blown away by this pregnancy. Mary might have had some “hormonal” moments, fear, fatigue and even, dread.

She was human, she was uncertain.

But, I believe she decided to be deliberate.

Deliberate in her seeking

Deliberate in her surrender

Deliberate in her notice of God all along her journey

Deliberate in her quiet pondering

My prayer today.

Tell me what to say.

I want to be deliberate in all my ways.

Luke, Chapter 2 ends with their son becoming their teacher. He takes off on his own, they panic until they find him in the temple.

He tells them why he’s there.

And he said to them, “Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?””

‭‭Luke‬ ‭2:48-49‬ ‭

Mary begins to learn a lesson, a human one again, one I’ve learned of late, the need to allow our children to individuate.

Again, she’s quiet.

And his mother treasured up all these things in her heart.

‭‭Luke‬ ‭2:51‬ ‭

It’s true, Lord. I learn when I get quiet. Help me to be deliberate in the quiet.

Providence

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I suppose I should surely call myself with confidence, a writer.

Just because of the way I love words, the way God made me to love words.

I wake up with new plans and consider a bullet list Thanksgiving blog.

This little garland left unhung and it was cute in Target, but I’m not sure if it was right for any place in my home. I’ll let it lay, it can go undone.

Again, I’m thinking of the list, the thankful today list. I could fill several pages and yet, not include it all.

Instead, I love the idea of three, so three it shall be.

Thank you, God, you are patient and unconditionally present and tolerant of me and you help others also to be.

Thank you for the way you got me here, to a place of morning sunshine landing on my succulents as I disciplined myself to know you more in the years before and how now, like today it’s an unexplainable joy, my morning space I rush towards in my morning return.

Thank you, God, for your word. When I said to myself I want to know more about providence, you sent me straight to Job, Job who cried out to the God who “molded me like clay” and found himself in a place I only know as well but on a much smaller scale, saying I trust you God, I do because you and only you know me so well.

Lists and exchanges of thanks should surely rule the day.

For me, I prayed I’d be an encourager that those around me would know my love, would surely see my love in a grander more consistent way, only possible if I lean into and stay leaning into You.

Happy Thanksgiving my readers who comment just when I need it, unbeknownst to you, perhaps.

That’s God who nudged you towards encouraging me.

That’s providence.

Thank you, God

“You gave me life and showed me kindness, and in your providence watched over my spirit.”

‭‭Job‬ ‭10:12‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Thank you for all you’ve brought me, brought me through to be used to honor you!

Grace and More

Abuse Survivor, Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, freedom, grace, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

Grace is a lot of things.

It’s big rescue and big salvation and big last chance chances when we are caught before our falls.

It comes when we decide to think of ourselves less than He says we truly are.

It asks that we see others as Jesus sees them.

Like he sees us.

Like he saw the woman with the expensive oil who wasn’t showing off her efforts. It wasn’t her plan to defy the others.

She just wanted to love Jesus when all around Him was persecution, ridicule, doubt and the question of His intent and the day of deciding His death.

She was focused on worship and she poured out her worship freely.

In unashamed and unexpected worship, she gave what she could to Jesus.

She gave what she had.

When the people standing around ranted over her waste of what in their opinion could have been sold.

Jesus accepted her gift, her worship, her grace towards Him and He used it for all the others to know the power of giving, the power of humble and creative opportunities to give and receive grace.

Jesus told them all to leave her alone, that this would be her legacy, this choice she made to be bold, to give what she had and to trust God with the rest.

“And truly, I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.””

‭‭Mark‬ ‭14:9‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Now thousands of years later, this passage is in my Bible marked with red.

For me to really remember grace for all it is, not just a sweet and easy sounding word.

Help me to do what I can when I can, to allow interruptions, to ignore human reasoning of my ways. To acknowledge where you place me as places you will use me, to not hide away in my introvert ways.

To do what honors God, to simply pour out what I have and leave it there.

Help me to act accordingly as if I’m listening closely to hear my Father say.

Oh, to hear Him say to me, the same!

She hath done what she could.

Mark 14:8

Forgive me, Lord, when I make less than amazing your grace, when I am prone to hiding away and when I forget to walk in it, exhibit it, simplify it, this timeless and phenomenal gift, your grace. Because of your mercy, I pray in Jesus name, Amen

Jesus, I Believe

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Craziest thing ever!  My boot camp instructor told me I needed to get right!

Last night I was grouchy and told her so. I dragged myself to boot camp, told the trainer  I’m here and I know I’ll feel better afterward, so, yeah I’m here, that’s all.

If I moved I’d feel better, if I left the house I’d be less worried. My workout was intentional, I was not there for fun and games, I just wanted her to know.  Not in the mood for conversation, there to unravel my day, let my blood up its flow, let go the things needed to let go.

She responded with her usual firm motivationally cocky type retort, not allowing me to be pouty and then firmly added, “Get right with God!”

And it was odd because we don’t talk about Jesus at boot camp, she and the others if I’m honest only vaguely know of my faith, only vaguely know I believe.

So, I took it as important, her reply so important for me to hear, to adhere. I was tired of waiting for things to happen in my life; beginning to believe some things will never change and some breakthroughs have gone another direction, not coming through for me anymore.  Work stuff, work worries.

Before I even read from two different perspectives about Martha, I was wondering already this morning about how and whether I believe. Do I believe for others; but, not for me?

Like Martha, maybe,  the sister of Mary and of Lazarus. It occurs to me now,  she must’ve been the middle child, the one who kept an eye out for discord, the one who anticipated family drama, the one who got all concerned and withdrawn when there seemed to an issue. She was perpetually on the edge of coming unhinged.

But, she didn’t see it, I don’t believe. She saw herself as the keeper of control, she was one who believed in Jesus yet made it her role to be on guard against trouble, to be prepared when it came.

Jesus compared her to her sister, Mary.

He’d come to visit them and Martha was busy cleaning, preparing, ready to put on a show. She was frustrated when he noticed Mary. He told her to notice too. Mary sat in silence, she waited unworried, just wanted to be with Jesus, somehow knew nothing more was expected.  Her lack of activity, of anxiety, of frantic expectation, led Jesus to tell Martha, I’m sorry to tell you but her choice is “the better”.

I imagine Martha knew her patterns, like me, sporadic in her change, but determined to let them go.

Slowly breaking the habit of questioning everything and keeping in control.

Some time passed after Jesus sat with them in their home and they beckoned him to return, this time to perform a miracle, their brother was dead.

They believed through Jesus he could live.

Do you believe this? Jesus    John 11:26

When Martha settled into the unlikelihood her brother would be revived, she answered Jesus’ question with a yes that was sort of a but or an even though…I guess, still.

I imagine her demeanor was calm, her resignation confirming her fear that became acceptance. He would be healed and he would live, her brother would see heaven.

Belief is sometimes just acceptance and with acceptance, there is always a hint of sullen. Acceptance isn’t usually accompanied by joy;  just an okay but I really hoped it could be better.  It’s a settling for less than we believed and I believe it’s because of what we believe about ourselves.

I wonder if Martha remembered the time she spent sweeping up the kitchen instead of sitting beside her sister and Jesus. If, because of her cleaning compulsions and her less than enthusiastic worship, she had no right to believe in miracles.

 Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.  But even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you.”  John 11:21-22

Jesus had other ideas.

Ideas to reveal His Father’s glory.  He kept no record of the ways she viewed herself as wrong.

I do this sometimes, sell myself short on God’s glory and greatness.  I decide in comparison to others, I’m not quite so worthy.  Like Martha, I believe in good for others, not so much for me.

And I surely believe in heaven but sometimes not so much at all, do I believe in now.

Intention, felt wrong when I wrote it, like a word that didn’t belong with the others: rest and attentiveness.

But, the day is almost done and intention has finished the sentence, is the conclusion to this morning’s story.

Believing with the intention of trusting.

Now I see.  Now I’m right in my thinking.

 Jesus responded, “Didn’t I tell you that you would see God’s glory if you believe?”  John 11: 40 NLT

 

Right with you…God.

 Father, thank you for hearing me.   John 11:41 NLT

Jesus, I believe.

 

 

 

 

31 Days, Freely – Close

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Life and God are in constant intersection.

Places you find yourself standing other than you planned and in locations you’ve become accustomed to, you are close to God, when you take stock of forgetting and finding again, what is there.

You meet a little lady by mistake who is tiny like your grandma, neat as a pin like her and she smiles and forgives you for ringing her doorbell, going to the wrong address, she tells you she wishes you’d stop back by.

And you think, now if that’s not God, I have no idea what it is.

To see your grandma when you needed her kind of gentle assurance, yes, that was God!

Being close to God, being where He wants me to be and doing what He wants me to do.

With my being mama, wife, executive, writer, painter, friend and follower.

These are things I will know clearly and eventually, adjustments like shadows of color to accentuate an angel’s waist or taking away a showy word to be simple, succinct.

It is work. It’s okay, though. God is in it.

Never an anxious seeking, always a contented watching unexpectedly yet ever hopeful wait.

I heard the geese and thought “Here they come.”, the acknowledgment of my mama, her words when she heard them.

I slowed my steps as the V shape turned away and then smiled and watched as they turned back my way.

It was a small thing, to see geese fly over and remember my mama.

Remember God’s pattern.

I forget and I forge ahead making mental and pencil note of things to try, challenges I should continue and I take some off the list, cross through their name, thick leaded takeaway, giving myself permission to let that one go.

To keep taking small, deliberate steps and to know that when I jump in to pressuring myself to join in, to hurry up and finish or to feel afraid I might not catch up,

That’s anxiety talking, that’s fear and I feel it in the place that the counselor noticed my trauma liked to dwell.

Noticing now, let that go,

That will not serve you well.

Be still.

You are close now, close to what God wants you to know.

He is close.

We are His work.

“The works of his hands are faithful and just; all his precepts are trustworthy; they are established forever and ever, to be performed with faithfulness and uprightness.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭111:7-8‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Closing out 31 Days with some sermon notes from myself:

Write bravely.

Write from small sweet experiences.

Try not to veer back to pitiful.

Recognize when you do.

Write what you’ve been avoiding.

Follow through.

Notice God’s answers in your day.

Pay attention, you’ll know clearly, what to say, what to paint, what to write and

Where to go.

God is everywhere. Don’t forget to notice.

31 Days, Freely – Start

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I’m good at neither rushing nor resting.

I concoct purposeful and passionate scenarios of diligent sticking to something and going long and hard without a break.

I imagine myself contentedly uninterrupted, a book in my lap.

But, both elude me.

Both take practice, commitment, a chance to see the benefit.

Going ahead without allowing hesitation or giving myself reprieve, permission to chill.

I’m sitting home alone, it’s Sunday and it’s sunny. The cool air of the night before has the rooms faintly fresher and the shift of the season quite clear.

Captivated by the book in my lap, “Becoming Mrs. Lewis” by Patti Callahan and tea in a pretty cup, I told myself read a chapter and then go, write a chapter.

Seemed like a good plan, inspirational, my content might flow more freely.

But, I’m three chapters in and still reading. This is a gift, this is a pleasure I’d long thought gone, being pulled in and unable to set a thick book aside.

Now, I’m rethinking the ambition of writing new chapters or layering abstracted thick color on a new something I started.

Instead, I’ll keep reading and when my eyes get heavy, I might dose or I may rise to walk the trail before the sneaking up of sunset.

I may look for them again, the tiny blackbirds up high in an old oak or the surprise sighting of seven or so cardinals all gathered together, red dots bouncing and bobbing against the green.

What I have started I will finish, I’ll come back and I’ll continue.

Fearlessly, faithfully what has begun will continue.

“Mercy, peace and love be yours in abundance.”

‭‭Jude‬ ‭1:2‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Giving myself a little mercy, peace and love on a sunny Sunday.

31 Days, Freely – Audience

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Today was a series of exchanges and conversations.

Late last night, I loaded up my artwork and joined today, the morning marketers of creations, all of us gathered on the lawn.

Tell your story. Sing your song.

Questions came with interest, with pause and silent studious stares from steps back as if my paintings displayed against an ivy covered oak were as grand as a gallery opening, big city style, formal and fancy.

Ooh’s and Ah’s.

How did you get started?

What are you writing?

What have you written?

Will you write a book?

Why do you think artists love to paint the pear, most of all?

“Come and hear, all you who fear God; let me tell you what he has done for me.”

‭‭Psalm‬ ‭66:16‬ ‭NIV‬‬

I sat with a woman visiting a friend and we compared most everything, why the work we do is “heart work”, that church people can be mean

and that we do find God when we look for Him and then we share what little or large we really know, the God we truly know.

In the sanctuary or on the square.

We share.

Why do some angels have faces and others just an idea or sort of blank slate?

When did you begin painting and why do you call them girls?

And they listened, a mother and a daughter, a widow and an old friend.

My daughter and her husband gave me a Bible with wide margins. I began sketching female figures in long flowing gowns as I let sink in the truth or the grace of each passage until the “girls” moved from the thin sheets in my Bible to canvas layered with lyrics.

The ones with no features leave open the idea, more relatable, emoting grace or joy or what each eye may see for itself.

I call them girls because I consider them sweet, humble, and I guess eternal, ever youths.

“Thank you for telling me your story.” she said, the one who didn’t buy my art; but, declared me an artist.

And I smiled.

I smiled today.

31 Days, Freely – Search

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And if you search for him with all your heart and soul, you will find him.”

‭‭Deuteronomy‬ ‭4:29‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Why do we wake up committed to seeking God? Because it is necessary to know Him, to sense Him.

Only through knowing Him are we able to know ourselves.

Distractions, obligations, the incessant in our faces knowledge of conflict and confusion.

Comments and contributions to subjects that pull us to jump in and join the fight.

It’s so hard to keep the peace.

To keep our peace.

So, I begin today before dawn remembering how I’ve found Him before.

And asking, real early and real honestly.

Help me to find you, Father, in my day!

And oh, I’m so excited to see what good in which places will come my way.

God is everywhere. Don’t forget to notice. me

I want to see you God, because I want to fully see me.

31 Days, Freely – Pause

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“Therefore the Lord waits to be gracious to you, and therefore he exalts himself to show mercy to you. For the Lord is a God of justice; blessed are all those who wait for him.”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30:18‬

My “life verse” is bordered before by caution and consequence of stubborn rushing ahead and after, with gracious reminder of what good comes from waiting, from being attentive to God.

“Ah, stubborn children,” declares the Lord, “who carry out a plan, but not mine…”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30:1‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Beware the place you arrive without pause. me

It wasn’t a life-changing yes or no. I’d done my research, asked for input from another.

A nominal purchase, was my pull towards jumping in to the opportunity because of the way it was marketed as invaluable, making possible my impossible success as a writer or

was it fear of missing chances,

not being able ever at all?

So, I paused. I gave the decision space and an honest self examination.

I chose not to make what was touted as essential, a sure path, success in my creative goals.

I let it be, left it alone.

God revealed another way, something I already own.

At my fingertips, the tools and in my thoughts, deeply planted abilities are gradually peeping through towards the light.

I was reminded in my pause.

Can’t believe sometimes, I continue this writing not much more than a journal. So many bloggers, I’m just one and my readership is oh, so small.

Yet, this daily thing is practice and it flows steady, gently from my daily morning pause.

Uncontrived.

I pause, I’m reminded.

Lord, help me not to flee frantically from the quiet place with you, the place where you keep me, continue to make me strong.

Keep me from the need for acclaim. Keep me in the quiet places where I hear you clearly saying, don’t go after that, I have equipped you, see me, see you. You are able, Lisa Anne; but, never, on your own. Let me lead you in the way you know so very well and let it show.

The way of quiet confidence, be willing.

Believe.

Because of mercy, Amen

“For thus said the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel, “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.” But you were unwilling,”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30:15‬ ‭ESV‬‬