wonder

Maybe Something Other

Abuse Survivor, courage, Faith, Redemption, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I’m beginning to consider other than what I’ve decided always.

Starting to let go my old responses to come what may, my old way.

Who does that? Brings a dandelion inside and places it next to the delicate dogwood bloom, adds it to the water in the little bulbous jelly jar?

I’ve never seen such a pretty arrangement. The contrast of the sticklike stem beside the velvet leaf of other.

The grass had been freshly mown and my day, not long into. The Lab and I returning inside and I paused to see the sun through the pines land on the solitary weed.

I picked it and blew towards the sky, the stem strong in my grasp; but, the feathery frond like fluff would not let go, held tight to the middle.

So, I’ve decided now, in my morning spot, that it was meant for other. It wasn’t meant to be blown away by my forceful breath and it dodged the destruction of the sharp blade of mower.

It was meant for more.

It was meant for other.

I have a task today and another tomorrow.

Tomorrow’s, I’ve asked God to help me reconsider what I’ve decided it’s purpose will be.

To cause me to let go my preconception and to be open to other.

To be accepting of what I will see, hear, feel, knowing I’m made by God, His plans for me planted and not fully seen.

I cover my eyes and my heart with other often, handicapping the growth, deciding my part.

“You can make many plans, but the Lord’s purpose will prevail.”

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭19:21‬ ‭NLT‬‬

His desire is that I not be blown away.

To carry what comes my way in a different way, to do maybe something other than before. To not fade away nor be destroyed.

This morning I’m linking up with Five Minute Friday, prompted by the word and thoughts of “other” .

Trees and Me

Abuse Survivor, Angels, Art, bravery, courage, Faith, grace, memoir, mercy, Redemption, rest, Stillness, Teaching, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder

I’ve a friend who invites conversation by asking, “Where did you see God today?”

And I’ve loved it so, the thought of it.

But, even more, my own thoughts and ponder,

“And what did He say?”

I find God in places happened upon, causing my pause.

A puff of moss amongst high weeds, a purple flower on a single stem, I consider it there for me, burst forth, break through it seems to say.

Morning was a compilation today of happenstance and truth.

The sameness of my journal, the place where thoughts land and the habitual sometimes same old requests I pencil in carefully, thoughtfully certain.

This one’s a slate grey blue and has a delicate copper colored lettering “notes” in its center.

I’ve many journals, pages full, I bet you can only imagine.

This morning I read via Anita Ojeda that journaling is medicine. It wasn’t news to me, still, I felt it new.

This one, “I know this much is true” kinda truth came a little more alive today and so it’s included in my journal.

Memoir means you intentionally write about your past events in order to understand them better. In the process, you’ll find healing. Anita Ojeda

It occurred to me this is the reason I’m only able to write a paragraph here and there when it comes to memoir.

Other places and subjects, even here I can let flow a thousand words or more.

With memoir, I’m tentative.

Maybe it’s because the content is so precious, so precariously cusp teetering like as far my healing, that its power must be approached gingerly, intentionally and not at all hurriedly.

And sometimes I think time might be running out and my season might be winter forever, that my story might never burst forth.

Others, I think I’m just lazy.

This morning, I prayed a prayer for me. The words were not typical, the request new and softer, different.

The place where I’d been asking for strength or courage or forgiveness, clarity or ability to obey,

I asked for love. Love, instead.

Lord, order my day I pray and help me to do the right things in light of your love for me.

Amen

I especially love this one old tree. When we walk, I can’t turn my eyes from its frame. We turn back and I pause every time because I find its twisted trunk and aging limbs so sublime.

I don’t think it has another season, yet I see small buds on leafless limbs. I’m waiting to see, is it just not time?

Will the fruit of pecans cover the ground come August?

Will its branches continue to reach towards the sky regardless?

The tree, this beautiful old tree it tells me there is time and purpose and plenty of it still.

I almost skipped my Bible this morning, knowing I must get my butt in gear. My passage for April 10, Psalm 92, “How Great are Your Works” it begins.

And I am amazed again at the never accidental nature of my God.

“The righteous flourish like the palm tree and grow like a cedar in Lebanon. They are planted in the house of the Lord; they flourish in the courts of our God. They still bear fruit in old age; they are ever full of sap and green,”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭92:12-14‬ ‭ESV‬‬

And mostly that there’s always time to grow, to bear the fruit of hope, so that others may hope as well.

And that perhaps, some things held onto for very, very long must die before new will fully live.

Like being okay with not finding four leaf clovers in a cluster of clover.

Drawn in by the vibrance, caught off guard by the possibility, stymied by the enormous beauty, I look but am satisfied despite finding the one “lucky one”.

I’m seeing God everywhere and I’m noticing, noting clearly and contentedly my need to continue on.

Who’s to say how we grow, when we’ll burst forth unforced.

When the bud might open or the branches stay barren

Only God can make trees. Only God can make me.

Closer Walking Words

bravery, courage, Faith, Good Friday, grace, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Salvation, Teaching, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

It’s fitting I believe, that the morning outside is dreary, a dull gray film making my time feel like mercy and slow acceptance that all will be well, the atmosphere already has changed.

Holy Spirit reminding me, no fear in love.

Walk more closely.

Continue, speechless.

His loss for my words that come.

Good words on Good Friday,  the day marked by suffering.

His suffering for my words, words that come like mercy every morning.

Wordless

I follow my daily guide that gives words in my Bible, a passage about a husband and wife who allowed greed and insecurity to go against what their souls knew they should do.

They chose to hide the excess of what they’d profited from, hid it away possibly insecure over their future, doesn’t say why.

The husband and then the wife died. Makes me wonder if this is where we get the phrase, “can’t take it with you!”

Peter asked them why they’d not trusted the Spirit, why they chose to hide their mistrust, revealing their lack of belief in God’s provision.

“But Peter said to her, “How is it that you have agreed together to test the Spirit of the Lord? Behold, the feet of those who have buried your husband are at the door, and they will carry you out.”

‭‭Acts‬ ‭5:9‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Today is Good Friday, two days before Easter services, sermons and celebrations.

I open my Bible to understand its significance, longing for the perspective of ancient writers and recorders rather than countless commentaries and insight of others.

I long, thankfully so, to be closer to the heart and soul of the day, to glean more significantly my conviction and my certainty of the suffering for my sake.

I consider the Books of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John before finally resting on the page that I penciled in my calculation of the time the world was dark for three hours.

Dark because God could not watch His Son suffer.

“And when the sixth hour had come, there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour. And at the ninth hour, Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

‭‭Mark‬ ‭15:33-34‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Observers felt surely rescue would come as the reply. But, it didn’t.

Jesus died.

“And Jesus uttered a loud cry and breathed his last.”

‭‭Mark‬ ‭15:37‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Good Friday, I woke again asking for mercy and mercy, again met me like so many days before.

Today, easing its way reminding me kindly to test the Lord less often, to trust His graceful provision.

To not hide away, insecurely the disguises of my fear.

To not cover my sins of doubt, of shame that lead to paths uncertain and unsafe, paths that might find me falling down, falling back.

So I rose to the dim morning light and He met me again; Jesus, a merciful advocate showing that indeed, Friday is good.

Not just this one; but, all of them Lisa Anne!

All of your Fridays are good when you live in light of My goodness and my grace.

And if you look you will surely see good in every waking day, every day that you choose not to hide your treasure from me, that you choose not to hide your heart away.

Every moment that you are bold enough to believe!

Every day you choose not to blur your visions, your senses, your walking in agreement with my will and way, not yours.

Just a closer walk.

“”Agree with God, and be at peace; thereby good will come to you.”

‭‭Job‬ ‭22:21‬ ‭ESV‬‬

 

linking this post up with other writers who love to tell His story. Visit here:

Tell His Story

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Purify my Intention

courage, Faith, grace, Peace, Prayer, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

Morning is the purest time and

I’ve become cautious over its treasure, careful not to be simply habitual.

Four or five books and my Bible

A pattern, a little system to my journaled prayers.

If I’m not careful I’ll jinx it, do this then that, then this…afraid a misstep or missed morning might lessen God’s notice of me.

Slippery slope down the path of my believing my measure of worth depends on what I do, what I continue to do…

“When I said, “My foot is slipping,” your unfailing love, Lord, supported me.”

‭‭Psalm‬ ‭94:18‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Protected time. My little spot. I’m safe again.

I’m remembering yesterday morning tonight.

Yesterday morning, I was sparked by remembering that I’d written somewhere else. I scanned my emails for notice of a comment telling me I’d been noticed by others.

Anxious for accolades.

Then, stopped. Suddenly, I stopped myself. Sat still and sat quietly, clearly and in tune.

Told myself my words will go where God has for them to go. My words will be seen by those who need to see them.

That is all.

This is enough. This is me, now.

Then I skipped reading my devotionals and began my day. Mid morning, found my little book and turned to the page marked March 20.

And I was met by intentional, intuitive and gradual grace through words of another.

The words in the book titled “Joy and Strength” are a little quirky in an ancient centuries ago way. The fonts are so delicate, the pages fragile and the verses are numbered a forgotten Roman system.

The words of a French Roman Catholic mystic convinced me that impatience is the disdain of prayer, that grace has a quality so clearly, gradual.

Gradual, God’s expectations are and accepting are His allowances.

He shows us the way forward, slowly not regimented or rigid. Not ever habitual or rote.

“Be content to go on quietly.

When you discover somewhat in yourself which is earthly and imperfect, be patient while you strive to cast it out.

Your perceptions will grow, at first, God will show you very obvious stumbling blocks; be diligent in clearing these away, and do not aim at heights to which you are not equal.

Leave all to God, and while you earnestly desire that He would purify your intention, and seek to work with Him to that end, be satisfied with the gradual progress He sets before you; and remember that He often works in ways unseen by us.”

Jean Nicolas Grou

Tomorrow morning, new thoughts, prayers and wisdom will meet me here and

Content, I’ll go on quietly.

Love Every Morning

Faith, grace, Peace, Stillness, Vulnerability, wonder

I reach for a cup every morning, thoughtful or not. I’ll grab the big one that says I’m the universe’s best mom or the one from a long ago trip my son took.

A favorite is the “sunshine” cup, from my sunshine, my daughter, bright yellow with a little hope reminder in the bottom you see when your coffee runs out.

If I’m open or uncertain or meh, I’ll just go for the cream color from the set.

Today, I went for the Valentines mug, not a gift from anyone, it ended up at the office and then my desk and now home. To be honest, it was a donation and we promptly ate all the Hershey hugs and I claimed the empty mug.

So, today I took the mug from the shelf and I’m drinking creamy coffee sweetened with honey because I know it’s true.

It’s true every morning. All I need is provided. Many of the gifts I cherish, He has provided.

Every morning, every minute, I am without a doubt reminded.

God loves me.

Loves me more.

Loves me despite sharp words spoken, selfish moods and motives and mostly my less than focused focus on Him.

He loves me meek.

Loves me mindful of Him.

Regardless though,

Loves me more.

“I have loved you, my people, with an everlasting love. With unfailing love I have drawn you to myself.”

‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭31:3‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Linking up for five minute Friday writers on the prompt “provide”. I am so thankful that God’s provision of love never runs out . Happy Friday!

And I Can See

bravery, courage, Faith, praise, Redemption, Trust, Uncategorized, wonder

All the things that held us back,

hold us back,

cause us to want to stay in the places our troubles and trauma, causing us to believe wrongly

have made us feel disabled or unable.

Even the troubles we were born into, had no control over.

Jesus says it’s not your fault nor your parents’.

The thing holding back, limiting your vision, troubling you.

That’s the trouble that will reveal in you, bring to the light for the world to see

my great plans and purpose, your transformation from this troubled past through me.
Those are the places we’ve been healed

are still being healed from.

Those are the things that God wants to use to show himself evident in our days.

The places He wants us to show others His glorious healing for them too, to say

And I can see.

“It was not because of his sins or his parents’ sins,” Jesus answered. “This happened so the power of God could be seen in him.”  Jesus
‭‭John‬ ‭9:3‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Acquiescing

courage, doubt, Faith, grace, Labradors, mercy, Peace, Prayer, rest, Serving, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

“So the Lord must wait for you to come to him so he can show you his love and compassion. For the Lord is a faithful God. Blessed are those who wait for his help.”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30:18‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Of all the things I love, I love to catch him thinking.

Waiting.

Something I heard the other day about dogs, I still don’t believe. I believe it was a well known speaker/preacher and he was talking about us in the world and oh, I don’t remember.

He was trying to amuse us I think, comparing man to dog, interjecting a point to cause a chuckle, caused me to ponder, I might have even tilted my head to the side, possible eye roll. (?) My facial experiences have a mind of their own.

For the life of me, I can’t remember where or who or why he said what he did.

But, I do remember he said that dogs don’t have thoughts and don’t really have roles or purposes on the earth like we do.

Expectations like being kind, loving, non-judgmental, welcoming to those in need and serving where God places us to serve and doing so without demand or self-seeking.

I was thinking this morning about my prayer yesterday. It was uncomplicated and it was almost happened upon, unsolicited, unquestionable.

A prayer of surrender, which is typically oh, here I go attempting again to be everything for everyone so that I can say my all is everyone’s all and take what you need because I have everything I need.

Work, commitment, a task…surrender has always felt like work.

Never felt like open ended sentence, open minded acceptance.

the action of surrendering.

synonyms

capitulation, submission, yielding, succumbing, acquiescence; fall, defeat, resignation

“the ordeal ended with their peaceful surrender”

What came from my heart yesterday was a sureness of God being purposeful in my life, an acknowledgment that He always has been; but, now an acceptance of this truth and a joining in of my part.

My prayer, simple:

I surrender to your preparing, Lord.

I am acquiescing. I am subtle in my surrender, accepting, allowing, waiting with calm and quiet confidence.

Lord, I am acquiescing.

What a beautiful word, the thought of it, a new favorite.

acquiesced; acquiescing

: to accept, comply, or submit tacitly or passively

The morning told me right away, your sleep was more settled and you are slightly changing, surrendered still, not striving and stressing. Continue here.

Colt waits for me to rise from my morning place.

He expects my rising slowly for a second cup of coffee and his food poured and fresh water given.

He waits. He knows my lingering, accepts it and joins in the mood. He sits for a minute, oblivious to me and looks towards the morning, surrendered to our day.

The day that has become his, this I for one believe, he’s happily thinking.

Colt and I, acquiescing.

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee at Tell His Story here: http://jenniferdukeslee.com/jesus-really-enough-2/

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The Space, it Changes

bravery, courage, grace, Peace, rest, Stillness, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I can’t remember the last time I captured the magnificent.

Used to be, walking was captivating, interruptions were awe and for a time, I told myself all the people in their houses are watching,

Saying, “she’s taking pictures of the sky again” or the geese or the sun painting shapes on the trees or the occasional feather at my feet.

But, the geese are eluding me now, the birds have fluttered past all together, singing see ya later, I lift my eyes,

so long, they sing.

Fleeting moments, they fly.

Seems I’ve lost my seeing.

Today, I tried a new thing. Midweek Motivation, usually yoga, stretch and breathe; today it was different.

Something akin to tai chi, an intentional exercise in noticing the physical for me.

The space that I allowed the settling of my intention, I decided “assurance”, was my belly.

With a weighted pillow holding me secure, I listened as the instructor suggested imagining the flow of river from belly, limbs and feet river to ocean, making space free and pathways clear.

And then an exhale, the intention, the sought after thing, “assurance”, a reply was an echo and I responded, thoughtfully, “I have it.”

Then, prompted to consider that place that held your intention, is there a change?

Yes, a lightness, a making for more space.

The space, it changed.

I considered the skies without bird, the moments I missed seeing the geese and the wide, wide spaces God has shown me of late, His intention.

I believe there’s room, room to grow, space to be taken up in new rooms by me.

I’m certain there’s room.

“…confident I will see the Lord’s goodness while I am here in the land of the living.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭27:13‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Wisdom, Beauty, Small Changes

courage, daughters, family, grace, Stillness, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I changed things up this afternoon.

The place where I sit every morning, is different now. I swapped out shallow basket weave tray for old wooden box that now holds my pencil, Bible and books.

The pencils and pens that rested there before are now sorted and pointing up to show their colors, they’re now living in a little caddy with the bottom missing, so I got it real cheap.

Heather came over and we walked and we talked and I broke a branch of pear tree blossom.

Brought it in, let it rest in little jelly jar and I remembered how my mama used to be on Saturday afternoon, late.

I’d walk in the back door and the den would be different, she’d found something out junkin’ and she’d rearranged the room around it.

We might sit and she’d talk and I always left my heart fuller and more wise.

The conversations slow, pensive pauses, insight straightforward, yet soft enough I held it, never considered it obtrusive, it was welcomed, her wisdom resting with mine just barely started.

It’s a generational thing, the wisdom unfettered, the joy in small changes.

My daughter walked with me this evening. I didn’t let her know; but, I could barely contain myself in my notice of her beauty.

The sun going down, the spring chill of breeze bringing her hair towards her cheeks, her loose ponytail bouncing.

And we talked, her wisdom rooted deeply and decidedly, not pulled right nor left and maybe some of it mine; but, most of all hers, my mama’s and a yes, just a little bit, mine.

“She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.”

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭31:26‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Questioning the Bloom

courage, Easter, Faith, grace, Peace, praise, Trust, wonder

“The Bradford Pears are blooming! Oh, my goodness, what is going on?”

“And these too!” I added, “What’s gonna happen if it doesn’t rain soon or if the ice comes back or when we get the “snap” before Easter?

We look for the demise not the design.

The verdant green of leaf of the hydrangeas are showing out too, all of a sudden getting ready to be the underlying cushion of the most brilliant purple, pink, heathery blue puff of round poof.

The pink buds making a hazy veil on the big wide fields lined with peach trees all in a row, the ones that died, frozen last year.

It seems they are ready to make a showing, showing up early for the big show!

I wake this morning to birds singing, much earlier than I guessed and I regretted my pessimism over the peach trees blooming, over the doubts of their surviving.

Because I remember it’s not us who plans the season and it’s not us who orders up the beauty, it’s God and we forget it because we’ve grown accustomed to miscues, mistakes, manipulations of man.

“Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty, God shines forth.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭50:2‬ ‭ESV‬‬

We question the beauty, we make it our creation and we forget we’ve nothing to do with it all and in forgetting we miss the bloom,

we lack the joy in our anticipation of it’s fading.

May we never lose our wonder, may we never miss His beautiful world.

linking up with others at Five Minute Friday, prompted by “beauty”. http://fiveminutefriday.com/2018/02/22/fmf-link-up-beauty/