Like a teenage girl twirling the tiny ring of promise on her slender finger, we wait anxiously, hopefully, and faithfully.
We keep waiting.
“When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy.” Psalms 94:19 NIV
Between question and answer there is a void, a great abysmal place bordered by anxiety and affirmation.
The tension between doubt and deliverance is the required dwelling place for far longer than we would choose.
It’s our tolerance of the inner turmoil, of the unanswered plea and it is our posture that secretly and with subtlety, changes our course.
We wallow in the waiting or we wistfully wonder just how we will be changed, more wise, experiential difference makers in the telling of our waiting stories to others.
That’s what faith is for.
For changes in us that are best for us
And for others.
Necessary and best because God promises it to be so and His promises are kept even when it seems not so.
There can be joy.
We can choose it as our in the waiting posture.
“Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.” Habakkuk 3:17-18 ESV
Like a promise ring on the left hand of a teenage girl, we know our future is marked by a commitment of love that will grow.
The love of our Father through Jesus for us.
So, we sit with our notes, our bullet list prayers and gratitudes and we mark our places in the place of waiting.
Maybe we turn our left hand to rest in our lap and with ink mark our wrist with a delicate cross, underneath it we write, “Believe”.
We wait with hope.
And when hope is not met by what we hoped for, we still have faith.
Because of the unseen things to come, we have faith.
We journey on.
We wait willingly.
His mercies fail not. He gives more and more grace.
I didn’t realize it at the time, but yesterday on a couple of occasions, I felt God seeing me. I felt Him near. The veil between earth and heaven was translucently thin.
In my car, with a list of places to deliver art and calendars, in between being among hurried and intent on shopping people, a playlist emerged. Songs I hadn’t heard before both caused me to pray and to praise. A deep connectedness to God’s spirit within me, led to warm tears and others to a lifted open hand.
No wonder, I’ve been resting with the words, “Be near me Lord Jesus, I ask you to stay.”
My favorite people in the Bible are the vulnerable and uncertain ones. I’m drawn to Job. I’m strengthened by David. I adore Martha and can relate to Jonah. Thomas, the one who needed proof and wasn’t afraid to admit it. I love the ones who wondered.
“Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” John 20:29 NIV
Who believe and cling to times when their belief was solidified, made tangible evidence.
The Lord is near.
Believe. Accept the freedom of a sweeter commitment, the language of the heart, not rational.
As Martha was met by Jesus, distraught over the death of her brother, she told Him she still believed in His goodness, in the purpose of Him.
Then, she went to get her sister Mary.
“She said to him, “Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who is coming into the world.”” John 11:27 ESV
Mary stood next to Jesus and asked why he waited so long. Jesus wept.
Then he told the sisters to take him to their brother although it had been four days.
“Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?”” John 11:40 ESV
Lazarus was raised. Jesus told them both and all who had followed out of grief and curiosity, that this was the way God intended it, so that all would believe, not just the sisters.
All, like all of us.
“So they took away the stone. And Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.”” John 11:41-42 ESV
I woke up early, got my journal, books and pen and then felt the need, like a gentle call to read my (actual)Bible.
The Mary and Martha story is good. Always.
God’s timing is not ours. Don’t give up hope. Don’t stop believing in the grace, strength, mercy and presence of Jesus. Look at your life, remember times you asked for help and help came. Times of desperation because of delay of some sort.
Sometimes I pray “God, show us your glory today, come through in a way that it’s clearly you…’cause I’m not able on my own.”
And Jesus has come, has remedied, relieved, given me strength when I am weak.
What we allow to be influenced by Jesus, by love, by vulnerable secret places exposed to light, lends itself to our stories being rewritten.
We begin to believe the vastness of God’s grace is for us, not just for others.
We loosen the bitter, cynical ropes that tether us to making sense of past wrongs and in a gradual epiphany type way, we see hope as more than a sweet little word.
We may wonder why it took so long and we may fear falling back into the questioning pattern tattooed on our soul by trauma.
We may wonder over this change causing glimpses of heaven.
Or we might decide to embrace it.
We may just move this Christmas season from believing and accepting Christ Jesus
To fully embracing Him.
We’ll be easy on our fragile human hearts when they try to grow stiff again.
We’ll pivot towards the soft light of love, we will reset our hearts on hope again.
We will say to ourselves, maybe on little post-its or with pen on our wrists.
“healed”
…by his wounds, I am healed.
We’ll continue seeing God. We’ll be amazed where He is.
“having the eyes of your hearts enlightened, that you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe, according to the working of his great might” Ephesians 1:18-19 ESV
I wonder if I’m more observant of the light because of darkness so early or if it’s a needy seeking of quietness with myself leading to peace with God.
I found a feather next to the pretty bottle we store our found feathers, my granddaughter’s sweet solution I adore.
Left for Finding Light of the World Known
“In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” John 1:4-5 NIV
And God said, “Let there be light.” and there was light. Genesis 1:3 ESV
Thinking of light and darkness like knowledge vs. mystery or questions vs. answers, certainty vs. doubt, I found John 1 and had a quiet little cry.
We don’t know it all, but we do know light, love and hope.
Light is trust.
“We are conformed to Him in proportion as our lives grow in quietness, His peace spreading within our souls.” T.T. Carter, Joy & Strength devotional
In quiet confidence is your strength. (Isaiah 30:15)
I lost my glasses on Monday, the cute ones, the ones a little bolder than my typical tortoise or black. Like most people my age, there are spare pairs everywhere. But, not on Monday.
We drove down the pretty road bordered with deeply rooted trees. Her mama had left a forgotten treat in the mailbox.
So early in the day, my readers must have slipped from my pocket or fell from my lap.
It’s an interesting dependence I now have on them, like a security blanket for a baby.
I catch myself thinking I have a pair like a headband only to pat the top of my head to be sure they’re there and find only hair.
On Monday, I was without them. I warned people I responded to in texts. They were unbothered by my typos.
By the end of the day I was managing just fine. My daughter didn’t find them on the road and I decided, oh well they’re just gone.
I gathered my things in the passenger seat once I was at home. Glanced down in the space between seat and console and saw a strange sight. I decided my husband had left some stuff in my car.
A little glass case, black with faux fancy logo with a pair of readers in the color peridot. I lost them so long ago.
Not as fancy as the blue, but I loved them and missed them.
Why am I writing about finding reading glasses?
It’s the thought that came after, the clarity in a sweet message from God.
About good in God’s time and God’s way, about the way answers come when we accept we don’t know, can’t be in control of everything.
The way God is the very best at the “art of surprising”.
On Tuesday, my granddaughter wanted another treat. It was close to lunchtime and she had a slight runny nose, but would never tell her grandma she was feeling bad.
(Memories of her strong mama here, rarely voicing a need or trouble.)
I let her lay on the floor, not flailing but fussing. Let her let her mood play out, allowed her to reconcile what she wanted with what her person in charge decided was best.
From the kitchen, I heard her whine change to elation.
“I found Gamma’s cross! Grandma, I found Gamma’s cross!”
She ran over and handed me the tiny gold cross, the one Gamma lost months ago and we all searched until we settled on not finding and stopped searching.
I called Gamma. Told her “Guess what?” and quoted our precious granddaughter.
She found the cross.
Under the couch, found when a little toddler tantrum decided to get quiet and lift the fabric of the couch to hide underneath. How she spotted it is really nothing short of a miracle.
No one else would’ve looked there.
Yesterday, we had a sweet day together. The back seat of my car strewn with a used pull-up, tiny books, little cards and juicy cups, and “guess what?”
My fancy blue glasses.
Hmmm, a surprise.
I had a thought yesterday as I listened to the words of a popular song “My Jesus”.
I thought “I don’t feel the nearness of Jesus now.”
I told God that very thing, asked Him to help me see what’s blocking my view or maybe, just to show me it’s okay to not always be searching, rather to wait for his revealing.
Gamma and Grandma both wear crosses, I suppose it’s one of our granddaughter, Elizabeth’s favorite things, our necklaces.
And our bracelets.
Yesterday, she sat in my lap and asked about every charm on my bracelet, the tiny artist palette, the little girl and boy silhouettes, her mommy and her uncle. She spotted the tiny angel, a gift from my husband prior to her birth. She said “That’s like my angel”, an angel her mama’s grandma gave her when she was just a baby.
One charm she skipped over is the circle with the missing charm, a tiny mustard seed enclosed in glass. Lost so long ago, I stopped searching.
When I called Gamma, teary with excitement, she called our granddaughter “my angel” and I agreed.
She added, “Now, let’s wait for her to find your mustard seed!”
“That would be something!” I said.
The sketches on the thin pages of my Bible often overlap with faded color, the Psalms especially.
“You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways.” Psalm 139:3 ESV
I lost my glasses on Monday, the cute ones, the ones a little bolder than my typical tortoise or black. Like most people my age, there are spare pairs everywhere. But, not on Monday.
We drove down the pretty road bordered with deeply rooted trees. Her mama had left a forgotten treat in the mailbox.
So early in the day, my readers must have slipped from my pocket or fell from my lap.
It’s an interesting dependence I now have on them, like a security blanket for a baby.
I catch myself thinking I have a pair like a headband only to pat the top of my head to be sure they’re there and find only hair.
On Monday, I was without them. I warned people I responded to in text. They were unbothered by my typos.
By the end of the day I was managing just fine. My daughter didn’t find them on the road and I decided, oh well they’re just gone.
I gathered my things in the passenger seat once I was at home. Glanced down in the space between seat and console and saw a strange sight. I decided my husband had left some stuff in my car.
A little glass case, black with faux fancy logo with a pair of readers in the color peridot, my birthday stone.
I lost them so long ago.
Not as fancy as the blue, but I loved them and missed them.
Why am I writing about finding reading glasses?
It’s the thought that came.
The thought about good in God’s time and God’s way, about the way answers come when we accept we don’t know.
The way God is the very best at the “art of surprising”.
On Tuesday, my granddaughter wanted another treat. It was close to lunchtime and she had a slight runny nose, but would never tell her grandma she was feeling bad.
(Memories of her strong mama here, rarely voicing a need or trouble.)
I let her lay on the floor, not flailing but fussing. Let her let her mood play out, allowed her to reconcile what she wanted with what her person in charge decided was best.
From the kitchen, I heard her whine change to elation.
“I found Gamma’s cross! Grandma, I found Gamma’s cross!”
She ran over and handed me the tiny gold cross, the one Gamma lost months ago and we all searched until we settled on not finding and stopped searching.
I called Gamma. Told her, “Guess what?” and quoted our precious granddaughter.
She found the cross.
Under the couch, found when a little toddler tantrum decided to get quiet and lift the fabric of the couch to think. How she spotted it is really nothing short of a miracle.
Yesterday, we had a sweet day together. The back seat of my car strewn with a used pull-up, tiny books, little cards and juicy cups, and “guess what?”
My fancy blue glasses.
God is good always. Always present, always waiting for us to find Him.
I had a thought yesterday as I listened to the words of a popular song “My Jesus”.
I thought “I don’t feel the nearness of Jesus now.”
An honest admission that confirms feelings aren’t always the most accurate assessments of our joy or our pain.
To admit a lack opens our hearts to a closer examination of whether we’ve been working too hard to find God and forgetting He’s never left us.
Like the glasses, appearing when I decided I’d never find them, they were waiting for my discovering.
How does it make you feel to know that God is sovereign, knows everything?
David understood.
His sinful choices, his wandering away always led to an unrelenting confession,
God you never left me, I once again lost my way.
Choosing to know God knows everything about me is either scary and vulnerable or it is surprisingly and steadily comforting.
It’s our choice.
Either way God never misplaces us, forgets where he left us or refuses our finding when we go on our own way.
There’s a tiny mustard seed charm lying somewhere that came unglued from my bracelet.
It’s been lost so long I’ve stopped searching.
Gamma and I are hoping our angel finds it. Boy, that would be some surprise!
But, if not all is good with my faith.
With God and I
It is well with my soul and God is close.
Prone to wonder and wander.
My Father certainly knows my way.
“God, I invite your searching gaze into my heart. Examine me through and through; find out everything that may be hidden within me. Put me to the test and sift through all my anxious cares.
See if there is any path of pain I’m walking on, and lead me back to your glorious, everlasting way— the path that brings me back to you.” Psalms 139:23-24 TPT
“Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.” Jeremiah 33:3 NIV
I’ve been searching for the best description in words for an idea for I’m guessing…years. I prayed this morning asking God a simple thing, not a God-sized problem, really just a task.
I have an Artist Market on Sunday. I don’t know what or how much to take for my display. I thought of asking the question in an Instagram story, a little poll. But, I’ve not had much success with this, I don’t think my graphics are fancy enough.
What would be wonderful is if I had a friend to help me say,
“Okay, this best represents you, so let’s decide what you should display so that not you so much, but your message is on display.”
See, here’s the thing. I prayed with coffee and a kitten on my lap. I prayed that very thing.
God, help me to choose what best represents your redemptive work in me and conveys that very grace to others.
I let the prayer rest, the one that came with such accuracy. The word I’d been searching for, “representation” came like a friend with flowers at the door, a “surprise” with her hello.
A representation, a portrayal of someone or something. May it be so, Lord.
May I be so.
And may I remember this chilly morning when an answer came quickly.
May I remember the one that came in the swirl of leaves at my feet yesterday. Even in the flurry of thoughts, a gift of clear comfort came.
May I remember your presence.
May I remember the one that came in reply to sullen surrender of a situation, with honesty over my muddling through the motions of trust. May I remember when I accepted what is not mine to change, a happy unexpected gift came.
May I remember the unrivaled power of the secret prayer spoken honestly with a friend.
On day 22 of the month of October I compare translations of Psalm 46:10.
Psalm 46 begins with a promise. I’ve begun saying, “God, you know all about this.” as a way to wait for resolution, acceptance or change in troubling situations.
Because God knows. God is in control. God is good even when we don’t see eye to eye on things.
“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.” Psalms 46:1-3 NIV
Another passage reminds me that God knows me, knows my questions, knows my thoughts, is aware of my waiting, even more so my worries.
I am reminded He knows me, called me to be near.
Summoned me.
Most translations of Isaiah 43:1 use the word “called”. The New International Version prefers “summoned”.
Imagine you being called back home from a distance. Maybe someone spots you in a large crowd, a concert or fair. You’ve gotten separated and your circles haven’t circled back.
You hear your name and you look to find the voice. Again, again your name is called, begging you to come back or at least let me know where you are.
That you’re safe.
Or imagine a child in a department store, wandered away as you look for a size or color. You look up and they’re gone. You call frantically, you rush from aisle to aisle, oblivious to the glare of onlookers as you call your baby’s name.
Finally, you’re reunited.
You try to contain your emotions, you try not to let your desperate fear be bigger than the relief of the sweet reunion.
I believe it’s this way when we forget God has the whole world in His hands, that He can be trusted, that He is for us.
I believe that even when all is not okay and there’s no changing it, we’re still better if we don’t slip away and try to rescue ourselves from sadness and distress.
Piling anxious questions on top of what’s already mysterious, forgetting He’s fighting for us, always has, always will.
“The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” Exodus 14:14 NIV
I sketched a figure in the margin of Isaiah’s words. I added “Fear not.” to the words already pencilled there,
“But now, this is what the Lord says— he who created you, Jacob, he who formed you, Israel: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” Isaiah 43:1-2 NIV
Created me, called me, redeemed me.
Be still simply means wait.
Waiting with hope or with acceptance that I may wait without knowing all.
I designed a notecard from a watercolor. The cover is an abstract landscape with soft coral, blue, earthy green and a touch of thick gold.
My technique has been described as flowing, comforting and sometimes subtle, others vivid, the colors.
I like to say it’s “just giving and taking away”.
Inside the card are three words
“Return to rest.”
Today, the writing prompt is “effort”.
I thought of how grace isn’t effort based, us being the recipient of this gift, but relationship with God often asks us to continue seriously, our seeking and knowing more fully.
Yesterday, I stood outside and opened my palm and prayed.
I asked God to help me sense His Spirit, develop such a closeness to Jesus in me that I hear His gentle voice
That I heed His teaching, am sure of my direction.
That I give and take away in the same way that He does. In this effort, not a hopeful change; but in this serious attempt I will better know my Savior.
I will better know what to pursue and what to let fade away.
May my greatest effort not be a blank canvas that invites color, words spoken or on a page.
May my most important effort be to know my God better and in this way
Know peace. Know rest.
Return to rest.
“Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” Psalms 91:1 NLT
we run away from our discomfort... but it doesn't leave us. to heal we need to turn around and face it, experience it and once we truly do we are out of it. We heal and we grow.
2 Timothy 1:7-8 For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline. This blog is about my Christian walk. Join me for the adventure.
Lisa Anne Tindal 