waiting

Heaven, Rain Down

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, fear, freedom, heaven, love, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

“Do you know the balancings of the clouds, the wondrous works of him who is perfect in knowledge…?”

‭‭Job‬ ‭37:16‬ ‭ESV‬‬

There are countless things I do not know.

I’m afraid my need to know overshadows my trust in the one I say I know.

Some may say it is so, that when evening comes, my morning proclamations fade and my trust might be pretend.

I told my husband I’d be happy if it rained all day today. Something ’bout a day filled with rain makes some things more permissible.

Rest, and not obsessing over lack or just a nod saying,

retreat, gather your thoughts and get ready

continue the redirection you started and then allowed your feet and faith to falter.

Know who you are and acknowledge the tendency towards the former, adjust your sails, begin again.

We go slow sometimes in our going towards good, our turning from old to new.

Someone I know loves to look towards the sky. Me too, like her, more now than before.

Yesterday, the clouds were massive. God was very near.

I couldn’t look away, wished now I’d thought to lie out my grandma’s quilt on the ground and do nothing but stare.

Fixing my gaze on heaven not my weighty frame as I laid there, caring about nothing other than clouds.

It would have been heavenly, a little heaven on my tiny space of earth.

It would have and will be, more than enough.

The atmosphere is changing now. The spirit of the Lord is here.

The evidence is all around…

Here as in Heaven, Elevation Music

I get so very distracted, forgetting how far I’ve come.

“Lord, help me be present.”

This morning, I’m four chapters away from finishing the Book of Job.

Chapter 37 has a prophet detailing God’s majesty yet again to Job.

Reminding him God is God and he is not.

We are not.

“For to the snow he says, ‘Fall on the earth,’ likewise to the downpour, his mighty downpour.”

‭‭Job‬ ‭37:6‬ ‭ESV‬‬

In Chapter 38, God gives further reply.

“Can you lift up your voice to the clouds, that a flood of waters may cover you?

Can you send forth lightnings, that they may go and say to you, ‘Here we are’? Who has put wisdom in the inward parts or given understanding to the mind?

Who can number the clouds by wisdom? Or who can tilt the waterskins of the heavens,”

‭‭Job‬ ‭38:34-37‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Job accepted not knowing.

Job knew God knew.

I’m reading a book now that I’ve set aside, glanced towards to return to and on purpose placed it next to me with pencil for marking.

Its message for me, at first wonderful to know, I guess now seems too wonderful for me to know, to live.

You see, I know it is for me, still so hard to grasp less fleetingly, the knowledge of my need to let God be my full focus.

The day before the author autographed her book, I had committed to a change of perspective.

Told myself, memorizing the order…

God.

Family.

Writing.

Art.

Work.

Knowing full well, for far too long it has been about me, my lack or my striving to be worthy.

That author asked my name, her smile met me and then her eyes for a second more when I replied, “Lisa Anne”.

And the sharpie message to me remains.

God first!

Lisa Whittle

The book, a response to a pieces falling apart time in her own life, “I Want God- Forever Changed by the Revival of Your Soul”.

I Want God

I’m only through Chapter One, because I dance the dance of too much to know and too long I have not known.

Commit or continue on the same.

This is why we must want this with our whole heart and not just know in our head we need it. We can be told a million times over that we should want God, but our flesh will convince us every time it is a lie.

So it then comes down to the ache and the longing of what we want more.

Gradually, I am wanting more, my eyes turn from the mirror reflecting a haphazard pursuit and I look inward to His spirit in me.

More often now, the reflection is radiant.

As I look up and attentively within, compelled more towards my heaven than my earth.

My atmosphere is changing now.

The spirit of the Lord is here.

God, Being God

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, fear, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, Peace, praise, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

God being God, will bring to you what you need.

I asked this morning why I have a hard time with words like “surrender”?

There’s a word picture I’ve painted when I sit and make my list, the prayers and the same old struggles, worries, hopes and fears.

I’ve taken to opening my hand, palm facing up when I pray.

It’s a small thing.

I’m trying to grasp a better understanding of my part in this thing called surrender.

I notice my hands unfolding more now, I’m less likely to be tightly fisted in every occasion requiring I wait or sit still.

The tension releasing, the simple change of unclenching, a tiny thing in my timely transformation.

This morning, I told God

I want peace.

Well, of course you do, don’t we all, I suppose you may be thinking.

Surrender doesn’t mean defeat, not giving up or lying down and curling up fetal.

Surrender means deciding you can handle this better, God. Your skill set so much more developed than mine.

Surrender is the realization you can no longer meet the need of another, or something other.

So, you say, “Here, God.”

My ancient devotional gifted by my wise cousin has verses in translations that are old and sometimes, odd.

Quotes from ancient writers, teachers, theologians and poets often require a whole lot of concentration.

Read. Ponder. Read.

The topic today? Fretting.

Fret not thyself, it tendeth only to evil-doing. Psalm 37:8 R.V

Spellcheck is confused. Do you mean tends instead of tendeth?

I kinda like the word fret. I totally get its meaning and it reminds me of my grandma.

fret1

fret/

verb

1 1.
be constantly or visibly worried or anxious.”she fretted about the cost of groceries”

2 synonyms:

3 worry, be anxious, feel uneasy, be distressed, be upset, upset oneself, concern oneself;

I see her scurrying around in her kitchen making us all pancakes and bacon and I imagine she’d tell me now.

Stop fretting! It will be alright.

Fretting comes so much more naturally than surrender.

God, being God lined up my lessons this morning. A fellow blogger sent an email out to her subscribers, reminding us to continue even when it feels a strain against your natural flow, that’s transformation in the underneath, there are refinements happening I can’t see.

Then, a Joy and Strength historic quote:

Do not be disquieted about your faults. Love without ceasing, and much will be forgiven you, because you have loved much. Francois de la Mothe Fe’nelon

This fretting thing has clearly been around for ages.

surrender, too.

Decidedly, it’s what we commit to that matters.

What we decide to pursue in our thoughts and actions that will bring peace.

“Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.

Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him, and he will act.

He will bring forth your righteousness as the light, and your justice as the noonday.

Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him; fret not yourself…”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭37:4-7‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Linking up with Mary Geisen at Tell His Story. Mary compares the back and to of control and surrender to the game on volleyball. It’s an awesome piece reminding me that God has control of the ball.

Tell His Story

Happy Way of Life #16 To Try

Abuse Survivor, Art, bravery, confidence, courage, freedom, grace, happy, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Stillness, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

There is a persuasion in the soul of man that he is here for a cause, that he was put down in this place by the Creator to do the work for which He inspires him, that he is an overmatch for all antagonists that could combine against him. Ralph Waldo Emerson

Have you considered the deep down joy of trying?

It is possible that trying might be more fantastic than you’ve ever known.

If we’d not discount it based on whether we finished satisfactorily or how everything may have to fall apart to come back together.

Last night, I painted for an hour, the same the night before. The surface waits for me now, paint tubes not closed properly, canvases stacked with halfway pieces and half-hearted attempts.

I’ve been here before. Seeking something big and of notice.

Seeking to be known by the work of my hands.

Instead of my heart.

Self-awareness, oh what a blessed gift you are!

Encouraging my beginning again.

Telling me to try.

I’ve just done a new thing this morning.

An idea I’ve had for a long time, a story and the deadline, oh shoot!

It’s today.

So instead, I pitched my idea…just proposed the heart of the story to see if the publisher might think the reader may like to read more.

This is not a phenomenal feat, it is simply a try and it is new for me.

So, now I move farther into my Saturday.

I’ll run while the air is still cool, make the bed, do some laundry, maybe return to the mess I made and try again and again.

Maybe, again. I will try.

Know that wisdom is such to your soul; if you find it, there will be a future, and your hope will not be cut off. – Proverbs 24:14

Where God Has Me

Abuse Survivor, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, love, Peace, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

Lisa Brittain writes about freedom, trust and surrender. She asked me to write about freedom.

She reminds the reader that when we look to the Lord, we are radiant and without fear. (Psalm 34:5).

This morning, I read my contribution to her blog. It’s an odd excitement to see your words in other places, I hope it will always be exciting. I believe it will.

Today, it prompted a sort of urgent self-reflection, a gentle stirring me to right a slight wrong.

Early still, I’m awake and thinking about this new “forgetting and forgiving is freedom” place God has me.

I know it’s the right place, this place of deliverance longed for for so long.

Yet, it’s not about me.

I’m glad I caught it early.

Self-examination in the quiet space of morning caused me to trash quickly a post, one about not joining in the conversations about new and overwhelmingly increasing numbers of sexual abuse disclosures.

I harshly used the word “bandwagon” to judge others who are finding their voice and bravely revealing what they’d hidden for so long.

My 5:30 a.m. journal is a note to self:

Are you boastful when you declare your progress?

Are you self-righteous when you proclaim your healing?

Somewhere I remember self-righteousness being like filthy rags.

Oh.

Maybe.

And my sermon to self?

“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”

I will preface the sharing of my post on freedom by being clear.

I understand how important it is to confront physical, sexual, emotional abuse and if appropriate, even the abuser.

I understand the powerful freedom that comes from declarative disclosure, ideally with a trusted and trained therapist.

It is important to say aloud and as often as needed:

“He, she, they should not have hurt me.” or “What happened to me was wrong”.

Yes, I do understand.

I understand the strength you never thought was yours equipping you in your disclosure and growing stronger and stronger.

I understand to decide to step away from those wounds, to move on towards new and vibrant places with a countenance of confidence is a decision of will and of faith, of determination and daily rising up to meet the road with God beside me.

I’m not able on my own.

My decisive daily prayer of what to do now with my survivor story that was once horrific and now, hopeful has become:

Lord, what do I have to say that others need to hear, to read, to know? Help me to help and not hinder and to speak more of my hope through you than my harm through them. May it be so.

Because of mercy, Amen

Here’s an excerpt from my post on which Lisa gave space for my freedom story.

   For so long, I’ve held tightly to my harm from abuse.  My days and nights have been marked by reminders that prodded the scars of my heart’s wounds, the scars that would be forever tender. Talking with others who understood or at least could attempt to be empathic, I was committed to my mindset, a decision to “keep my stuff”. It was a huge part of me…

Read more here:

The Freedom of Forgetting

Stuff of Sorrow

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, grace, heaven, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Serving, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting

Most of my afflictions have been “momentary” and later, I understood them all or with time, accepted them. I can’t say any of my troubles could compare to Job’s and if I’m honest, nor does my unwavering trust.

My choices waver at times, not so much like altogether abandoning my faith; but, like the rich man who couldn’t imagine choosing to follow over keeping all the wealth he had.

And a ruler asked him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” And Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone.

You know the commandments: ‘Do not commit adultery, Do not murder, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Honor your father and mother.'”

And he said, “All these I have kept from my youth.”

When Jesus heard this, he said to him, “One thing you still lack. Sell all that you have and distribute to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.”

But when he heard these things, he became very sad, for he was extremely rich. – Luke 18:18-23

Sometimes I’m sorrowful over my sorry state of mind and lack of solid pressing forward.

When Jesus told the rich man what he needed to go beyond just being good, it was more than he wanted to hear; I believe he was looking for one more commandment, maybe a new one he could boast about his adherence.

Instead, Jesus asked him to sacrifice.

He asked him give what he treasured, asked him to give up the thing he measured his worth, his value by.

When Jesus tells me to do something or to do without something, it’s obviously not a tap on the shoulder or a verbal command.

It’s more a stirring, sometimes unpleasant and others exhilarating over what my life might be if I gave my all, gave Him my all.

When that soul stirring says “change” “surrender” “give up” or “give all” it’s a call to follow, to come and see how my life might be.

Mostly, I meander and the hard truth is I often ignore and it’s sort of secretive. Only God and me know, how I might be different were I to choose differently.

Then comes the sorrow, the sorrow we label loosely in other, more understandable ways.

Calling it humility, doubt or disappointment because we don’t want to call it what it is, disobedience.

Doubt somehow is easier on the heart, feels more allowable and forgiving like mercy or grace.

Like the Proverbs verse about the dog returning to his vomit, I’m prone to patterns I know, mostly in my thinking, thankfully.

Job chose a different path than the rich ruler. Both had a whole lot. The rich ruler lost nothing, Job everything.

Job refused to curse God. The rich ruler by his refusal to let go of all his riches, essentially did.

Both were sorrowful. Both were tested. One held fast to God, the other to His riches.

And the LORD said to Satan, “Have you considered my servant Job, that there is none like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, who fears God and turns away from evil? He still holds fast his integrity, although you incited me against him to destroy him without reason.” – Job 2:3

Job lost property and children and did not blame God.

Chapter 2 has a header in my Bible that says “Satan Attacks Job’s Health”. Job’s wife watches as he breaks a pot to alleviate the pain and presence of sores, scraping desperately over the toxic wounds now covering his entire body.

She tells him he should curse God and die.

Job replies that her talk is foolish and reminds her we shouldn’t expect good from God only, that we might experience bad, we might experience evil even.

In the midst of our suffering God is still working, will we hold fast and trust Him?

I wonder how the rich ruler continued on. I’d love to know that he reconsidered his riches, that his cycle of security through wealth was somehow harshly broken.

And that when he had nothing of his own making, he believed Jesus and was made new.

This world is not our home, nor all the stuff we pile up round our rooms or anxiously work to acquire and feel we are finally enough.

But, eternity and the riches of heaven, oh my goodness, it is ours for the asking and while heaven can never be here on earth, it’s so very much closer in and around us when keep what we need, our faith and care so very little about the things that are just “the rest”.

God honored Job’s integrity, gave him and his family back all that had been taken. His days continued, they were full with so much more because he accepted what was taken, all.

And Job died, an old man, and full of days. – Job 42:17

According to Grace

confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, grace, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

I stepped out into the day, the Labrador scrounging for pieces of his food I’d spilled from the container not tightly closed.

Quiet except for the sound of his bowl lightly shifting against the floor as he dines. He glances my way, lets me be me. I believe he understands, the tennis ball rests in far corner for now.

My feet are in the soft moist grass, shifting with my steps, resting places for the view.

The sun is making greener the ground, illuminating the morning.

Purple blooms are leaning down, they’ve flourished more than before, the rain, the sun, the soil.

Must have been just right this time.

Fragile blooms, antique in appearance, the Rose of Sharon, has grown as high as the windows and will continue through September, up, up, upward towards the sky.

I’m alone in our morning yard, unconcerned over the back door open too long in August or eyes from houses on other sides of fence, pondering me as I ponder.

Grace has brought me here. Grace, the committing of my morning and my days to God.

For quite a while, I’ve been this way.

Quietly accepting come what may every morning and praying by God’s grace it goes long, longer every day into my days.

Grace, living according to grace thus far.

…that we may receive and find grace to help in time of need. Hebrews 4:16

Lament No More

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, grace, happy, kindness, memoir, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting

Yesterday I told a writer, a published author who is good, funny and honest, the thing I’d been thinking all week.

Andra Watkins is strong and unafraid and kind and I can’t wait to read her new book!

Andra Watkins

I’ve met her and read two of her books already. This one is a little different and she wrote that it had been an idea long ago, finally coming to fruition despite serious medical interruptions and detours.

I finally commented on her FB page.

I told her how seeing her accomplishment made me feel. Told her I was jealous. I told her I was happy for her. I told her I came up with a new word about my feelings. I had decided I was “jAPPY”.

She replied that she knew I would, that I would one day write a book.

I smiled.

Running last night, yes, me running, I decided to remember that I will only not write if it is not for me from God to write.

In that case, it will be okay.

I have written a whole lot already.

Yes.

I have a crazy real fear that my time will run out. Partly due to the lack of time because of my career and the mental exhaustion it causes, I have only tiny chunks to devote to writing. (This is my reality. This is not whining and not in need of encouraging or worthy comments along the lines of…if it mattered you’d make time.)

This is accepting that space and time will clear in time and if not, well, that change is no longer completely up to me.

The happening or not, I am a smaller part than I wanted to be.

Running towards something, pressing a little farther each time and committing to knowing this is my part, my new dedication, just keeping going.

I begin my day every day with the Jabez prayer. The one that is an imploring of God to make good things happen and to keep them coming, please.

Everyday, I realized today, I am praying for more when I already have so much, God has granted a multitude of what I have asked.

…and that your hand might be with me, and that you would keep me from harm so that it might not bring me pain!” And God granted what he asked. – 1 Chronicles 4:10

I’m a woman raised with very little and along the way I have been given so much, had opportunity to give from all I’ve been given.

The book I thought I might write no longer is the book I believe may come.

The prior was a lament, the future will perhaps only recall the past from which I’ve come; but, will be so much more heavy on hope.

God is moving me from all the past.

God is keeping me from my pain.

It is a necessary blessing.

My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me.

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end;

they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. – Lamentations 3:20-23

The song in my ears while running reminding me that His mercy will not end.

I tapped replay.

His mercy never ends. His plan for me will not be thwarted even if I stumble and get bummed out by my past so hard to forget or agonizing my far away and unattainable to me future.

A mercy song:

As Sure As the Sun will rise and chase away the night, His mercy will not end. Ellie Holcomb

His mercy will not end.

His love for me will not be removed.

I will continue in rhythm with His timing, His mercy,

His idea for my book.

Learned Yesterday

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, grace, kindness, memoir, mercy, Peace, praise, Redemption, rest, Serving, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Unity, Vulnerability, waiting

Before I forget, I must make a list of yesterday’s people.

A Board President gave the blessing before the meal at a gathering of grantees. He prayed for us, our work of love and for those who had yet to pass through our doors.

Before his “Amen” he paused as if the Spirit lingered long with Him and he longed to stay in that moment. Just as after his “Amen” his sense of God was so real he audibly acknowledged it, he kind of shook from the presence with an “Oh”.

Laughter with my friend/employee/spiritually wise one all the way to and from the gathering on the crazy construction mess of interstate.

We were safe.

A fellow grantee, selected as the spokesperson for her table and her response to the chosen question over our biggest obstacles in providing help to others. She, one by one listed needs that had been met for her Free Clinic simply by asking straight out and three times maybe four in beautiful oration, she paused and added:

Ask, that your joy may be complete!

Five women, separately but simultaneously because of the day, encouraged my writing after reading “Black Crow Mercies”.

One took the time to send an email, I only skimmed at first and read again before bed seeing the gift more clearly from God for me.

Thank you for who you are. This is not the first time God has used you to soften my heart. I am praying for your book. Just know it will bless.

Love from the camping ground,

Anna

 She has spoken hope for me, and dare I say, made reality, my writing of a book.

Later, two women I have written guest posts for sent me sweet words, one sharing my words, the other sharing my hopes and her hopes with me. She shared them in a podcast I’d never bothered to listen to.

I messaged her and wrote how her voice calmed me as she talked about peace, how happy I was to finally listen, to hear her sweet tone.

Even later, I went for a run and was exhilarated over how much this challenge of going a little farther has gotten hold of my heart.

Music in my ears, impressing me to continue.

Farther, farther along…

Farther Along

Running from the devil of depression, I allowed my acceptance of my truth.

I ran with new vigorous confidence and commitment towards my growing stronger, towards understanding.

Home, I announce to my son that I went farther. I ran farther this time. I head to the kitchen to finish dinner and it’s healthy, I’m healthy.

I think of a writer named Lisa, remembering I told her I’d guest post again and letting the ball drop on my end.

Then I see her comment from 12 hours before and my name in her post, my words, “Black Crow Mercies” shared for her friends.

I commented how unbelievably timely her sharing, for I felt she’d long forgotten me because of my forgetting her.

Two writers, males, commented as well. One in agreement with my realizations on being different, one affirming I’m “good, okay, different”.

People on my path.

Lord, you never delay too long. Thank you for showing that what I decided to believe once again will in fact be true.

In a little while, I knew I would see.

In a little while, I knew I’d again believe.

Because of mercy, Amen.

linking this post up with others at Tell His Story hosted by Mary Geisen.

http://marygeisen.com/foreigner-in-a-foreign-land/

Black Crow Mercies

Art, birds, bravery, contentment, courage, Faith, grace, memoir, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, rest, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting

The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing. – Zephaniah 3:17

I told him, “Our troubles are minuscule” as we rode together bemoaning things that were trivial trials in our life.

We are well. Our children are well. We have what we need.

But last week, a crow flew just in front of my car as I turned in to the lot and as I’m prone to do, I took it to mean dismay.

I was early for work, not my norm.

Timely, I thought, just perfect for this pessimistic air all around me, my living and breathing blah apprehension.

Pity, full.

I open the door to step into the day and they all begin, a few of them now, to make the “caw” call of mockery seeking my notice.

I had a deadline, I resisted the idea, struggled to put together the right “ask” begrudgingly came to work to begin.

A minute into the task, an application for grant funds, I was interrupted and I huffed.

Corrected myself, listened and then explained my deadline.

The one who interrupted my day told me he would pray.

Later, I would be able to share with him the ease of completing the application.

More interruptions, people stopping by to help. I told them I couldn’t talk and they said rather curtly, knowing me…”okay don’t talk”.

Sometimes I’m so “unpeople”.

Left alone with my work, I completed the task, I asked the grantor for what we truly needed rather than something new and contrived, I was honest.

Then, I joined the ones who came to help me with another task they’d volunteered for, my husband, daughter, and grandson, giving up their Thursday to help lighten my load.

I walked in and they were working so very well together, hanging drapes, hanging pictures, it was unnecessary for me to be there.

I quickly chastised my husband as he hung the large painting off kilter. My daughter cut her eyes, cocked her head and said: “Mama, stop barking orders.”

Oh yes, I can be demanding.

I can forget to be grateful. Sitting on the beach, we heard of sudden serious illness and added this father to our dinner blessing.

My husband asked, “Do you think God does things to get our attention? Do you think God wants to humble people through tragic unexpected things?”

Immediately, I replied, “Well, I don’t know how I’ve dodged the bullet then.”

No further discussion.

Almost a week later, a young father has died in an accident and the one on life support has been healed.

Who are we to know? Who are we to comprehend?

God is able. Able to know all.

We are not.

On Saturday, I was grouchy again.

Stubborn and lazy. I was uncertain of putting myself out there again. My art and I would be on display, a new opportunity, a new place to hopefully make a profit. If my aunt and uncle hadn’t traveled two hours for the market, I had decided already to back out.

I sold three paintings, minimal profit.

I answered three people when they asked about Isaiah 30:15 and I told them why this verse is the one I call my life, how I’m better when I’m quietly confident in God.

What I didn’t say was how around 7:00 a.m I had to get myself in check and let my knees find the floor beside my bed to ask God to help me radiate this verse, this “quiet confidence”.

He did.

Conversations about comfort occurred, comparisons of struggles and needs were brought to my attention and I listened, I really listened.

A photographer I admire commissioned a piece and she told me that I should, yes …” You should write the book.”

Kind words were offered about my paintings. I accepted them.

The sweetest thing ever, my aunt, an ever observant one said: “I feel so good about you living here, I see how many people need and care about you..”

I said sincerely, thank you to onlookers without a tone of pity or pleading for purchase.

I asked God for the day I needed and He answered by showing me the beauty of contentment and of His being with me.

Now it’s Monday and the birds have begun to show up slowly after an overnight rain. Gradually, they are moving limb to limb, testing the branches and cavorting about.

My prayers are for the hurting, the very sick, both sickness of the heart and the body. For the hard hardness of unforeseen grief and tragic too early death. For those whose role assigned by You is one of bringing comfort and wisdom to all, I pray you equip and embrace them.

My prayers are of gratitude for what I was taught by God this weekend, what I was taught to recognize, consider and not forget,

Your presence, here.

My “art room” is back in order now, my writing space awaits. I’ll get back to it soon, not be hampered by the pressures of my pride, pitifully pitting me against myself.

Such an exhausting battle, unnecessary.

I will wait and I will ask again, how can I write in a way that is quietly confident, that emanates your grace, your mercy, my faith?

How can I see the birds overhead and remember my worth, not be woeful?

How can I glorify you as I continue in intentional surrender?

I can’t wait to see, to sense and to follow in this way, the way of grace and peace.

Show us your glory.

We know you are able.

Help us to recall our hardship only in terms of remembering your healing.

My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me. But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. – Lamentations 3:20-23

Looking for my red birds and robins today.

I know they are near.

Crows maybe too, the noisy crows sent to remind me of deliverance, of mercy.

God, we know you are with us. We know you are able, we are listening for you.

Comfort us as comforters and ease the hurt of grieving hearts.

Because of mercy,

Amen, me

Coffee and Morning

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, family, love, memoir, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Stillness, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

On our final beach day, I wake to the sound of lawnmower instead of sweet birds, the closest to sleeping in all vacation and the landscapers are I guess, trying to beat the heat.

Timely, typical.

I groan.

A dog, I decide small, someplace chimes in and it’s crazy because both our dogs left early, yesterday with the children.

Isn’t it ironic? …it figures.

Alanis Morissette

Redirecting the day, I start the coffee and go for the pretty cup, not a morning I’ve had quiet.

Today, I return to bed and inventory my prayer list.

Haphazard or just right I had wondered when I couldn’t squeeze it in, my typical time alone.

So, one word was all. “Insight” was my petition.

I’m looking over my list now and what I just experienced, thinking about what felt like literal stirring in my soul, an uncomfortable unrest.

We watched the waves last night under the crescent moon.

High over the ocean from the pier, the sound of the churning up from underneath, the bringing in of new and the taking out of old, the tide a gentle yet powerful change.

My word, again.

Insight.

Hoping for change; but, maybe scared that quite very possibly it is possible.

Scary, the reality that God is readying me for something different and I know it.

Say to wisdom, “You are my sister,” and call insight your intimate friend, – Proverbs 7:4

I know it because my chest is filled with stirring over the potential and it makes me just a little bit afraid.

Returning to my words and His word, I read about the way He carries me, helps me carry my load and I’m remembering His eye on the sparrow and I’m remembering He is the potter, I’m just clay.

And I’m glad for the storing up of these promises because I’m believing based on this stirring that He is preparing me and He is preparing new and new ways.

I’ll be strong, stronger with Him helping to carry me and my load.