wisdom

Stumbling Toward God and Good

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, hope, Prayer, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder

“I will give you the treasures of darkness and the hoards in secret places, that you may know that it is I, the Lord, the God of Israel, who call you by your name.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭45:3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Early Mornings

I could easily sleep an extra 30, instead I wake to the quiet ring of an almost silenced tone. It takes very little to rouse me. Early mornings have a ritual when work shifts allow my husband to sleep in.

I move to slide my phone to my palm, find my glasses, take a few steps to the bedpost for my soft robe, round the corner soft stepping to the door, I pull it towards me, towards the hall.

I walk softly towards the lamplight of the kitchen, glass of water then coffee with cream and honey.

The spot I call morning calls me and once again I open my journal, write the word “trust” and encircle the names of my children.

I find October 26th on the thin pages and I see the verse above. I sit and read commentaries from people of the 1800’s.

These are the things of my mornings, commitments that may seem to some a ritual.

But, it’s not what I read in the obscure dark of morning, it’s the epiphanies that come as I’m driving country roads and certain knowledge that comes as the daylight comes

Will come more knowledge.

More brilliance, power and a hand raised in the solitude of my car upon recognition and joy that there is power in prayer.

Power that can be shared and power that I’ve asked God to help others experience for themselves.

A car in front of me struggled this morning, driving noticeably too slow. I followed not to close and saw the little car’s tires rub against the curb and then correct. The car accelerated then and I decided I either startled the driver or shook their almost slumber. Finally, they turned onto the road I hope led home.

Another set of headlights followed me too closely and I maintained my course, did my best not to be annoyed.

Because I saw them in a new light.

I considered maybe they don’t like darkness driving either. Maybe my morning route seemed steady to them. Perhaps, they felt safe following me, so no need to speed around me or to hurry.

It’s this way with faith. When we’re steady when steadiness makes so sense.

We continue. We grow. We show others we’re not fully grown, we just keep walking, stumbling in the steps we’re certain keep us moving with and towards God.

Prayer walking, praying at all times and in every situation brings light to our darkness.

The light of the world to our own little worlds.

Continue and believe.

“Don’t be pulled in different directions or worried about a thing. Be saturated in prayer throughout each day, offering your faith-filled requests before God with overflowing gratitude. Tell him every detail of your life, then God’s wonderful peace that transcends human understanding, will guard your heart and mind through Jesus Christ.”
‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:6-7‬ ‭TPT‬‬

Believe in the power of prayer.

The power of a spectacular new day, the sunrise the color of zinnias.

The power of new perspectives.

Paths of Our Choosing

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, freedom, grandchildren, Peace, Redemption, testimony, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder

“When you walk, your steps will not be hampered; when you run, you will not stumble.”
‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭4:12‬ ‭NIV‬‬

I’m remembering just now, my grandmother took us all walking. The cousin weekend retreat always included a walk on the curvy clay road.

How had it not realized the resemblance until now…the deep ditches covered in growth, the ditches we’d jump in and stand still like statues until the old truck passed by?

My grandmother commanding, “Hit the Ditch”.

How we remember becomes how we see.

I’m reading two new books, one fiction the other non. One discovered and one recommended, “Sugar Birds” by Cheryl Bostrom and “Your Stories Don’t Define You” by Sarah Elkins.

Barely into either, I am learning.

Ideas like telling your story to and through others and the power of memories we give ourselves permission to explore more deeply, building a better story.

When my granddaughter and I walk, we sing a little song about staying safely in the middle and we’ve made a game of jumping over roots instead of getting tangled.

Yet, when I walk alone, the neighborhood walking trail or the sharp turn on the busy road, I’m less cautious, in a way a stubborn walker.

The trail is disrupted by large old roots. I walk swiftly and keep on even though on a few occurrences the toe of my shoe butts up against the thick branch and I catch myself from falling face first.

It occurs to me it’s a stubborn resilience, this choice.

It occurs to me now I choose the dangerous path because I’ve decided it’s still my assignment to not be defeated by it.

Later, I’ll walk the trail and I’ll will myself off the broken up paved path and step aside to walk a few steps on the soft grass.

I can give myself permission to choose softer, I can decide to be welcome there, the place of choosing easy over hard, peace in regards to my past instead of handicap.

Be well today.

Enjoy your new path.

Tasting Mercy

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, eating disorder, Faith, freedom, hope, mercy, Peace, Redemption, Salvation, Stillness, testimony, Vulnerability, wisdom, writing

Remember when you refused to say “diet”, instead lifestyle or good choices for my health? Maybe you’ve counted calories, drank smooshed up vegetables in a pretty glass, restricted cream and sugar in your coffee.

All in an effort to be well, to be satisfied with yourself, body and soul.

Yesterday, I gazed at the casserole dish of cheesy baked spaghetti my daughter made. I remembered the day I would’ve gone for thirds, if by myself eat the rest of it.

I let the memory help me, I let it fade into the shadows. I left it there.

I woke up early unnecessarily today. I prayed beside my bed that God would help me keep learning, keep listening, keep strengthening my spiritual health.

I see the word prompt for today is “taste”. Rather than think of passages like kind words being sweeter than honey or tasting and seeing that the goodness of the Lord is good.

I rested for a few minutes, soaking up a passage I never tire of,

The passage about the woman who’d been hemorrhaging for twelve years and had gone broke trying to get well, to find a solution to her blood saturated clothing.

The crowd was thick. She could get close to Jesus without being noticed. She did. She touched the hem of his robe and instantly everything changed. She got well.

Jesus knew it. Knew she was there. Knew she was desperate and called her out from her chosen obscurity, her hope to keep herself secret.

“When the woman realized she couldn’t hide any longer, she came and fell trembling at Jesus’ feet. Before the entire crowd she declared, “I was desperate to touch you, Jesus, for I knew if I could just touch even the fringe of your garment I would be healed.”
‭‭Luke‬ ‭8:47‬ ‭TPT‬‬

All eyes and ears were on her then, Jesus didn’t just heal her, He gave her the voice to invite healing for others.

I haven’t thought of it this way until today.

Others see and hear us. See how we’ve changed and keep seeking to be healed.

On Sunday (isn’t Sunday always okay tomorrow I start the diet day?) I considered doing Whole30 again.

The diet that restricts certain foods as a way for you to learn what is specifically not good for you is work. It takes effort, makes you feel like a brave fighter or a competitive something or other.

But, there’s no cheese allowed, no cream in my coffee, no chocolate, no red wine, no bread, no sugar, no peanut butter (!!!). The “no” list is long.

Earlier this week, I embraced a friend in a funeral home. I didn’t expect to hear her words through tears. I just know they surprised me, sweetly and certainly she spoke.

“I’m gonna need you.” she said before I spoke a word. On the way to this visitation I almost decided against I decided I’d offer myself as a person to call.

I’d tell her “If you run out of friends to call or no one’s available, you can always call me.”

You see, we know each other but not dining together or visiting each other’s home sort of friends.

Her greeting me with “I’m gonna need you.” surprised me and then it didn’t.

This thing called blogging, posting what God tells me on Instagram, this sharing of sitting on the sofa sketches at night, this creative thing God so graciously made me to do.

It has an audience of listeners, seekers, “needers” like me.

It’s just me being vulnerably, being honestly me.

My “sermons to self” sometimes become hopeful words for others, I suppose.

I pray this anyway.

So, on this chilly quiet morning, I make myself breakfast. I don’t skip it thinking I’ll eat later. I am intentional with starting the day filled with possibilities and errands well.

I take the English muffin top and toss it. I like the bread, but I just choose the bottom. I add sharp cheddar to the egg white and turkey sausage and let the broiler make it bubbly. I add a dollop of cherry preserves to balance the savory. I place it on the pretty china.

I sit and enjoy it.

Like I told my friend who is grieving and I continue to tell others and myself,

“Take it easy on yourself.”

Offer as much mercy you’ve shown others to yourself.

Cease striving, seek wellness.

Be humble when convicted, but don’t punish yourself, don’t let bitter regret or self-hate simmer.

Continue and believe.

Believe you’re fearfully and wonderfully made and so fully known and loved.

Be well. It is well.

“I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭139:14‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Thank you for sustaining me Lord, for keeping me well, for reminding me of what harms and what helps me, what makes me a beautiful offering, a vessel to pour out new life, love and listening. Thank you for showing me gently what limits my abilities, takes me from your Spirit. I am listening. I am learning. Thank you. Because of your mercy, Amen

Find Rest

Art, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, grace, Holy Spirit, Prayer, Redemption, Salvation, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom, wonder, writing

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

(Notecards and other art available at http://www.lisaannetindal.me )

More Than Pretty Words

bravery, confidence, courage, Faith, family, freedom, grace, mercy, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, surrender, testimony, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom, writing

It occurred to me as I thought of today’s prompt, “trust”, that so many of the words we use may be less powerful, more pretty, even cliche.

Trust is a word I write every morning, some days God follows with a bold period and often underlined.

“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.”
‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭3:5‬ ‭KJV‬‬

Trust.

I start the day with this written commitment. Still, some days it’s nothing more than a pleasant hope, a halfhearted decision to remember God is my Father and I am His child.

I can trust Him.

Even if trusting humanly is a challenge for me, an established avoidance or cynical pattern.

I can decide to trust God.

Words like trust, faith, redemption, and salvation are powerful and unchanging words.

They are the fruit of our Creator’s character and intent for us.

They are God’s covenant.

“Promise”, another word we hold loosely when we consider it from human experience, is just as valuable, a weighty word.

Today, I will trust God. I will know and cherish words like trust, faith, mercy, grace, freedom, salvation, healing, and peace.

I’ll embrace these words tightly, held and certain like a child being cradled in the strong arms of a parent.

“I am carrying you.” God

He keeps His promises.

He gives joy, trust, patience.

We’re not able on our own to sustain these.

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith,”
‭‭Galatians‬ ‭5:22‬ ‭KJV‬‬

Treasures

Art, birds, Children, Children’s Books, Faith, grandchildren, hope, Peace, Trust, Vulnerability, wisdom, writing
Crayons and Cardinals

Today’s prompt word, “Treasure” was on my mind bright and early on the country road.

The humidity hanging on a couple more days made my windshield foggy and the road ahead a misty haze.

I switch from dim to bright, to see clearly up close or farther ahead but blurry, I kept trying to decide.

A little or closer to seeing all.

I notice few other morning travelers. I drive slowly, no obnoxious impatient people behind me. No approaching lights undimmed on one of the many curves.

I can’t decide if I’m old or more careful, more slow or more cognizant of what I’ve committed to, what’s required of me.

I chose music over words and a Pandora station different than other mornings.

A song I’d never heard nor the artist led my morning on. Simple words.

A treasure, the refrain.

“I don’t have much to give. But, I give you my beating heart.”

A song about what matters to God, how so very little is so very much.

I won’t despise the day of small things. (Zechariah 4:10)

I thought of a surprising conversation yesterday. I’d asked an agent in a zoom call whether self-publishing a children’s book gives credibility to an author seeking to publish adult nonfiction traditionally.

There was no “Oh, tell me about your book” or an approving nod that says you’re on the right track.

No, neither of those, none of that.

Only, “only mention your book if your sales have been 5000 books.”

Oh.

Well, good to know, I suppose.

I love “Look at the Birds”, every single word, every color on the pages, every thought that clicked to birth the story and illustrations.

I felt a mixture of naivety and betrayal. Familiar thoughts.

This is when I remember my husband says I’m prone to believing life is a fairy tale.

Maybe or maybe just hopeful.

My heart beat a little faster yesterday when I saw a friend had my book on her coffee table. My soul welled up this morning when my granddaughter said “my Jesus, your Jesus too.”

Like the foggy barely lit road of morning, we see just enough to know the smallest treasured thing is the thing that brings the flutter of a heart well known, well loved and treasured.

Follow your heart for direction more than your misguided ideas of being known, seen or valuable.

“For your heart will always pursue what you esteem as your treasure.”
‭‭Matthew‬ ‭6:21‬ ‭TPT‬‬

Know what matters. Songs in the early private morning, a crayon in the hand of a child, a conversation with a friend who sat close by, listened and understood.

Treasures. All of them.

Continue and believe.

Toward The New Day

bravery, confidence, courage, depression, Faith, hope, mercy, Prayer, Stillness, Vulnerability, wisdom

But, as for me, it is good to be near God. Psalm 73:28

Morning Spot

Changing my morning spot with the season means I’m facing the morning sun. I’m not able to linger as long. I’m motivated to move forward, toward the new day, the give and take back cycle of surrendering its way to God’s control.

The longer I stay, the more unavoidable is the glare. My face looks towards my journal, the three words on focus.

Holiness

Health

Change

Waking today, to a one step forward and three back kinda feel.

So, I ask simply for more grace.

Look up again, the sunlight now dappled through the pines.

I pray.

Turn my face towards the sun, Lord. Empower me to let the shadows fade away. All knowing, Father, you are good and only do good. Settle my mind and heart on this truth.

“The day is yours, and yours also the night; you established the sun and moon.”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭74:16‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Becoming Them, Becoming You

Art, bravery, Children, contentment, courage, depression, Faith, family, memoir, painting, Trust, Vulnerability, wisdom

“And though the Lord give you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, yet your Teacher will not hide himself anymore, but your eyes shall see your Teacher. And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it,” when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30:20-21‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Calling Myself an Artist

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

I sketched an oak tree years ago, green grass water colored and a blue sky with the words above added in a sort of filigree.

I worked for the Department of Family and Children Services aka DFACS aka The Welfare.

I gave this sketch to my first real boss, the County Director back then, thirty something years ago.

Something in me has always understood the something in others that causes harmful, negative, risky behaviors.

Causes giving up or succeeding.

And so, I had work to do, very hard work, but I tried to be kind.

Because, I’m certain every single person in the world is battling something.

Many times it’s something they’re hoping to outgrow or to not hand down to their children.

As I age, I’m beginning to see the battle of becoming, either fear of what I may become or a greater fear of what I will not.

I knew a woman once who should’ve been a chef. Her meals were spread out like royalty when family came on Sunday. She retired from professional management type work and she immersed herself in cooking. She became the cook at a little campground type place where men shot dove. The tips were good, the encouraging compliments invaluable. She was on top of the world and then, she just couldn’t or decided she couldn’t anymore.

Sometimes, I’m asked in these days of either anxious anger or languid depression, how I stay motivated, how I keep painting, I wish I could be like you, have a calling and purpose.

And I’m honest. I say,

I’ve seen what happens when you stop doing what feeds your soul. I’ve seen how quickly you don’t leave your house, grow weak and weary and weaker and worn out.

I’ve seen how becoming what you longed to be only lasts for a minute. I’ve seen how one sweet hope that gets stolen or is forced to be given up because of hardship or loss can break a strong soul.

I keep painting because like probably you, I want to become the mama who lived life fully not the one who decided she couldn’t keep on.

Feed your soul. Cook. Write. Paint. Sing. Dance. Plant your roses.

Every bit of you is the beauty you’re becoming.

The battle we all fight, the hard one?

The battle not to let ourselves quit, not to let our hopes go.

Continue and believe.

Time, Seasons and Shalom

contentment, courage, Faith, grace, grief, hope, Peace, Redemption, Salvation, Stillness, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom, wonder

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.”
‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭3:1-8‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Every morning now, I open the back sliding door. Like a chef waving his hand over the skillet to invite the aroma upward, I invite the changing season in.

I step out and feel the change on my bare feet. The flowers drying to brittle fragile brown while others are vibrant still.

I read this morning about “Shalom”, an invitation to seeking peace.

Shalom, a greeting or a farewell in ancient days, “Peace”.

Priscilla Garatti

It’s a thing I can’t fully understand, how peace was established for us and how we’re supposed to believe it, cling to it, trust it

When it makes no sense.

The page in my Psalms and Proverbs book has faded names from a decade ago.

“Ginny”, a mama whose teenage son died by suicide. I wonder now how she and her husband are doing. If they’ve found moments of peace.

I woke to see that a friend has suffered the loss of a grandchild.

Nothing to do, but pray.

Pray for peace in unfathomably sad things.

Prayer comforts. It was long established for us, the way to peace, the place to seek.

A quiet room, standing still with the changing grass cushioning bare feet or with a friend with Jesus too, holding hands, being held.

“Honor me by trusting in me in your day of trouble. Cry aloud to me, and I will be there to rescue you.”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭50:15‬ ‭TPT‬‬

Shalom.

Continue and believe.

Your Power is Your Peace

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, family, hope, memoir, Salvation, Stillness, Trust, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder, writing

Day 9 of the 31 days of writing prompts caused me to groan.

Power.

I turned to weakness, my default or maybe not so much my fragility, but the preference not to lead, not to be involved in anything that requires power, assertion or influence of others.

Those days are done.

Afforded me time to take the blinders off, the struggles and strengths of others for way too long buffered what God needed and needs me to see in me.

It’s been long overdue and good.

Power?

Can we call it strength instead?

Then, I remembered my waking thoughts I framed with prayer.

Lord, help me know what those I love need from me.

The answer came eventually.

The strength I’ve been certain of going on a year.

Peace. I need to be peace. Not a peacemaker, interventionist or conflict resolver.

No, simply, I need to be at peace.

To be peace.

“Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.”
‭‭Matthew‬ ‭5:9‬ ‭KJV‬‬

I need to “make peace” in others’ lives by example.

With this comes strength. With this comes a power that enables me to do for those I love or simply encounter.

Surrender is a big requirement, but one that brings ease. Clear vision of your own issues leads to change.

Peace is not getting what I want or want for others. Peace is giving whatever perplexes me continuously to God.

The result?

I grow stronger. I have peace.

I am peace for others.

Your not so secret power?

Peace.