wonder

What’s Your Calling?

Art, bravery, contentment, courage, Faith, fear, hope, memoir, painting, Peace, Redemption, Stillness, Vulnerability, wonder, writing

“Follow on, and thou shalt never lose track of that light.” Edward B. Pusey, Joy and Strength

Art at Dusk

I sort of remember the first time I told myself that painting and writing are “my calling”. Several years later, I still question the label that leads to an assessment of whether my work represents such a strong word.

Once I called it my “treasure”, felt that was better. A “gift” may be even easier to accept as the description of what’s more than hobby but less than calling.

“Allow God to cultivate your calling.” Hosanna Wong

I heard these words while walking, having told myself to take a break from podcasts, that I once again had way too many voices in my ear telling me how to finally be at peace with me.

I am prone to quitting a whole thing rather than being patiently selective, giving up rather than testing the waters.

Not finishing things I begin for fear of failure.

The shape of a bird waits on a wood panel. Vibrant colors of green, azure, a little coral brushed boldly to complete the suggested work are only thoughts. Although I’ve painted these before, what if I can’t again?

What if I’ve forgotten how to paint and write?

black bird waiting

That would mean what you thought was your calling was wrong all along.

I consider the words of Hosanna Wong again this morning. Like a middle school diagram sentence, I broke apart the words.

Allow – give someone permission to do something Cultivate – to develop a quality or skill Calling – a strong urge towards a particular way of life

Allow God to cultivate your calling.

There is relief here, this freedom from effort, comparison, numbers of followers, readers, collectors and validators of my work…

Of whether it is or ever was “my calling”.

Because, I’m closer now to understanding

my calling is the calling of every single one of us, to let God lead, show us the way, place us in the places we are needed by others, not the esteemed places of what fulfills our needs

recognition, praise or even kind words.

The pressure is off.

I’ll adjust to this new understanding of calling. It may take some time. I may still fear rejection and thus, hesitate in offering my words and paintings.

Or I may settle in, paint and write because I love it and love the way God made me to love doing it.

Of the seven paintings inspired by Psalm 23, a Bible close by as I painted and breaks in between colors to comfort myself in reading, only one has sold.

Waiting and Trusting

A tiny one, “All I Need” will be shipped today.

I allowed my Bible to fall open in my lap just now. The margin sketch reminding of words from another day.

“Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known.”
‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭33:3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

There’s so much I don’t know, don’t fully understand about God’s ways, His love for me, the places He has for me, my words and art to go.

I will follow. I will stay close beside Him. I will find my calling in the listening to His gentle, guiding voice.

I have everything I need.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭23:1‬ ‭ESV‬‬

He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭23:2-6‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I am learning as I continue and believe.

Such a better calling, to just continue.

Continue and believe.

The Gift

Angels, Art, bravery, curiousity, Faith, hope, memoir, painting, rest, testimony, Vulnerability, wonder, writing
Trust

On Sunday, I felt the tone in my voice change to excited, the chance to tell again how it all started, women in redemptive poses, muses of my art.

The story of a new Bible for Christmas, the trend catching on of filling margins with notes, colorful stickers or maybe drawings.

I was reluctant. I remembered warnings of never let your Bible touch the floor, leave it somewhere safe, underline some things and write on little pieces of paper tucked away, the sins you keep sinning.

That’s what you need to remember most, I was raised to think. Keep track of your wrongs, only consider the tiny chance you are worthy of grace.

I was in awe of the mysterious unattainable gift of the Holy Bible for many years.

Gradually, when time alone brought comfort, I began timid sketches of women and stories I could see myself in comparable pain, joy, messes made or willingness to learn.

Willing to come nearer to God.

Brave enough to trust His love.

Love Binds

“And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.”
‭‭Colossians‬ ‭3:14‬ ‭ESV

I heard love in my voice on Sunday, felt it in the fluttery words lifted into the air as I stood surrounded by my art.

This thing I get to do that leads to stories of a Bible filled with drawings, the word “trust” in dark pen to greet me.

Listening as a passerby stops to say, “This one speaks to me.” I listen and am grateful for the gift of their emotion, their interpretation of the canvas.

Thank you seems insufficient and to add “it means so much” seem like the reply of an amateur, not a “real” artist.

But, I tell them. I tell the ones who see themselves in my art that their purchase, their kind words are a gift.

Because, I mean it and rare is the occasion I say something I don’t mean.

Share your thoughts, words and trust.

You never know what a gift to them it may be.

The gift of you sharing “your Bible”, your life.

Open your Bible, let it speak then speak it through your story.

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.

Thinking

confidence, contentment, Faith, family, hope, memoir, Peace, Redemption, surrender, Vulnerability, wonder

Every window called me closer, the horizon layered in a display of indigo, grey and powdery blue.

The clouds thick and volcanic in puffed up borders.

The Day 25 of 31 days of writing prompt is “think”. Rather than thinking immediately, “I got this”

I got nothing.

Other than the decision to continue learning that my thoughts are directly related to my feelings and my feelings have fault lines in the places they’re unavoidably connected to past trauma.

So, today when anxiety threatened over something similar to long ago, instead of bracing for battle and chastising myself and my thinking by saying to self “This is not that.” in a “snap out of it” tone

I elaborated by thinking, “No,

This is not that. But it is the same feeling.”

Then I gave myself permission to do a calm comparison.

I have feelings. But I’m not the actual feeling.

I can feel uncertain and still have a little self- aware conversation and become more certain.

Now, here I am at dusk. The clouds of morning giving way to night.

I’m still captivated.

Maybe I’m closer to viewing life this way.

Captivated.

The geese are now approaching.

I think of my mama, lovingly, longingly, loyally.

This evening not being the “that” of those before.

Nearer This Year

Christmas, contentment, Faith, hope, Peace, Stillness, Vulnerability, wonder

“So now wrap your heart tightly around the hope that lives within us, knowing that God always keeps his promises!”
‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭10:23‬ ‭TPT‬‬

More than one person has agreed with me, “I’m putting up my Christmas tree early this year.”

Like the leaves changing and popping out brilliant colors, Winter comes and with it, Christmas.

With Christmas, hope.

Witt hope, peace on earth, in our homes.

Hope anyway and always.

Draws us nearer to Jesus in the quiet place of hoping for better, intentionally making the holidays more about God’s gift to us than whether we’ll have gifts for others.

So, maybe decorate early. Sit in the silent evening. Consider your tree as you remember the rugged cross.


“Draw me nearer, nearer blessed Lord,
To the cross where Thou hast died;
Draw me nearer, nearer, nearer blessed Lord,
To Thy precious, bleeding side.” Fannie Crosby

Happy Sunday.

Continue and believe.

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.

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 )

Be Where You Are

confidence, contentment, Faith, family, grace, hope, Peace, Serving, wonder
Joy and Strength Enduring

This is the thought that came as I roused from sleep on this splendid Saturday.

Be where you are.

The writing prompt graphic for today’s word, “temporary” has a clock in the background.

How is it I’ve never thought of time as temporary, hadn’t considered just how temporary every unique moment, hour, day or month is?

Yes, be where you are today. Adding ribbons to Christmas ornaments, painting on paper the image of Jesus carrying a child, spending time with those I love.

Not just being there, being with.

Giving out grace and good in everything in a way that says

“Thank you, God it was and is and will always be yours. Amen.”

“Yours is the day, yours also the night; you have established the heavenly lights and the sun.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭74:16‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Redeemed

courage, curiousity, Faith, family, hope, memoir, mercy, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Stillness, Vulnerability, wonder

“Let the redeemed of the Lord say so, whom he has redeemed from trouble”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭107:2‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Georgia

When this kitty cat came to me as a homeless sort, sleeping in a horse stall because she got separated from the litter and the mama, she hid under the house.

Imagine me lying on my belly in the overgrown elephant ear plants in the corner near the kitchen.

There was no coaxing her out. She came to me reluctantly the next morning.

Last week someone suggested I might not be the best kitten mother, maybe I don’t have the time or patience to tame her.

I considered it, that I’m not a real animal person, that she’d be better in another place.

But, I persisted.

I approached her with the understanding of her lack of trust, understanding she felt more safe all alone, she could only trust herself, she’d learned.

I had empathy with a tiny grey cat and changed one thing.

I became unselfish with my morning quiet. I made it her time first.

I allow her to find my lap. I don’t reach for the journal, the Bible, the pen or the stack of books.

I cup my warm coffee cup and I sit quietly. I think. I breathe.

I pray. We sit.

Early on, I considered the kitten sheltering under the house, hidden and afraid and I decided to see her perspective.

This new place, these new noisy people, this warmth inside, this back favorite room where the sun warms the blanket.

This woman, this man, these people plus a little toddler, a bit overwhelming.

The person who cautioned over the adjustment was also adamant not to allow my granddaughter near.

I wondered. I decided it will be okay. Because my grandchild understands the need for a gentle voice, a gentle hand.

She’s not bothered if kitty cat runs away, we’ll just try another time.

Gently.

Gently and with our persistence she sees we’re redeeming her uncertain beginning.

Same with us, the invitation to the Savior’s call, the gentle beckoning of us to come near, be safe.

“And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them.”
‭‭1 John‬ ‭4:16‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Be taken care of.

I pray you don’t resist the call to be rescued by the sacrifice provided by God, our Father

His Son, our teacher, our Savior.


“Come, ye sinners, poor and needy,
Weak and wounded, sick and sore,
Jesus ready stands to save you,
Full of pity, love, and pow’r.


I will arise and go to Jesus;
He will embrace me in His arms.
In the arms of my dear Savior,
Oh, there are ten thousand charms.” Come Ye Sinners, Poor and Needy J. Hart, 1759

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.