wonder

Talking About Georgia

Abuse Survivor, bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, marriage, mercy, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

Last night he asked, "I took you from your home, didn't I?"

And I waited for my words to form.

Answered, a soft sigh, "Yeah."

But, my answer was slow in coming because I thought of all the good in this place.

And I was happy to be asked, to have Georgia remembered.

Driving home from boot camp, I'd stretched myself even more, things like planks, crunches and mostly the people around watching me try had worn me out.

The sun was setting as I turned up the hill that meets sharp curve and the sky a mixture of dark and light after a rain.

I decided, the sky was God to me and God, the sky.

I glance upwards often, it has become my place to remember where I began.

I begin each morning in the same spot. My journal in my lap, pretty pencil in my hand.

Everyday, the prayer of Jabez, the one I've seen answered. That God would bless me indeed, enlarge my borders and keep His hand on me so that I not be in pain.

Then, I read and I think and add penciled prayers to pages.

Today,

Father, thank you for mornings.

For not giving up on me.

For making me fearfully and wonderfully and for calling me towards you so that I every day I'm beginning to know surely and more fully and more well the way you made me for this time

This place.

Thank you for Georgia, the place that made me and thank you for mornings and my morning place in this place.

“He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭23:3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Linking up for Five Minute Friday and thankful God made me to love words and gives opportunity to write and read and grow.

Surprise on Purpose

bravery, Faith, grace, mercy, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I stepped outside, the feel of change in the air, only slight.

Rain for several days, so much that I'd go from one place to another unconcerned over umbrella and my hair sort of wilted.

But, I stood for a bit, listening and heard faintly only one bird or two. I wondered where they'd gone. I wish I'd been coming out to listen more, my days taken up by other than quiet.

I stood and allowed my mind to empty.

Had a morning talk with me.

If you think about the times whatever "it" was came through, came to be, happened when least expected, you'd understand more the wait.

 

lost jewelry found

 

the voice you so long to hear, try hard to hide the excitement in your hello

 

the lifting up your feet, the lightness in your step, floating more, dragging  less

 

love light that faded surprising you sweet and strong

 

finding what you're looking for once you stop searching, you'd surrendered

But, you may step out into the wide open and try to grasp the day, grab hold of some sense of deep peace and wait to feel its embrace. No one around, you might close your eyes and tilt your face up towards the morning and breathe deeply a slow and seeking prayer.

You may open your eyes, expectantly to see or sense the intervention you've conjured and so, you wonder where the moments may have gone, to return back to you void.

You might turn to go back in your house, groaning in your acceptance of the same, prepare yourself for day and duty and begin to understand.

You've tried to make it happen.

Again.

Tried to manufacture hope, attempting to do things, pushing, looking, straining ears and eyes and heart and soul.

Your striving made you weary and you remembered then how it happens, how it happened before.

So, you say "yes."

Yes, I know. I remember.

The light came in, the rescue came through, the sweet things no longer delayed.

They came on their own.

On time, and maybe on purpose, to surprise me by surprise.

 

"…At the right time, I, the Lord, will make it happen.”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭60:22‬ ‭NLT‬‬

 

No Copy Now

bravery, Faith, grace, mercy, Prayer, Redemption, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I have no idea why I'd been glancing towards its spine.

Or why I'd kept it there.

A book from a rummage sale, I think I must have found it pretty, substantial pages, edges rough and worn tinged slightly brown.

The hard cover, a note from the giver to another inside and then, another note below, inquiring who'd been the original receiver of the "get better soon" gift.

I wondered if the book had been exchanged and now settled long with me.

The signatures dated the year I was born and then the year I turned thirteen.

To write of the way I'd been glancing towards its place on the shelf, considering whether I'd actually ever read, is so very insufficient to hope another might understand simply in my telling here.

But, this morning, I did reach for the thin book, a collection of poems.

I reached just before gathering things and going to work and just after I'd journaled.

Intrigued and increasingly drawn into new thoughts on prayer, I'd decided I'd begin a 40 day fast, something I'd never done.

I'd decided the time, counted the days to mark the end once deciding the beginning.

Decided I'd abstain from three things that distract, a vignette I decided, always choosing three.

I thought of what may happen and decided I'm anxious to see, what might change, where my time might grow.

And I held the book, Sonnets from the Portuguse, Elizabeth Barrett Browning in my hand, let it fall open and my eyes fell on the familiar, "How do I love thee?"

I thought, oh, I know this one, the sonnet counting ways of love.

Then, my eyes moved to the page on the left and well, I couldn't for a second believe it. But, I've no reason not to believe.

Sonnet XLII

'My future will not copy fair my past'—

I wrote that once; and thinking at my side

My ministering life-angel justified

The word by his appealing look upcast

To the white throne of God, I turned at last,

And there, instead, saw thee, not unallied

To angels in thy soul! Then I, long tried

By natural ills, received the comfort fast,

While budding, at thy sight, my pilgrim's staff

Gave out green leaves with morning dews impearled.

I seek no copy now of life's first half:

Leave here the pages with long musing curled,

And write me new my future's epigraph,

New angel mine, unhoped for in the world!

And I was astounded.

The mention of angels, new future unseen.

The book that now rests in my lap.

I'm past the point of youth and closer to the place and time where my parents died too soon.

But, farther, yes, farther than the half called before.

The me reading poetry, calling herself artist and smiling when another notices the shift.

I seek no copy now, of life's first half. Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Write, Lisa

bravery, courage, Faith, grace, mercy, Redemption, rest, Vulnerability, wonder

People from other sides of fences.

Two of them this week, same matter of factly without hesitation

Said, "Write, Lisa".

One added, her words disputing my feeling as if needing to hide away.

She said.

"Some will wonder why, many could care less.

Others wish they were brave enough.

The few who respond are the many who matter."

So, I'll share again the honesty with hints of hard things again, the post selected by another.

Gently Found

And I'm sitting alone after long day, a smile no one else can see.

It's grace, grace, grace. Here's an Instagram post below…is it possible to be humble and happy all at once. I do believe so when it's a nudge in your tummy, a slight catching of our breath in realization combined with awe.

To see the words that so very clearly express your heart, surreal to see, amazing to recall.

So, for August, I'm the featured post on a blog. The reality is, it's the baring of my soul about just how clearly I feel I could have stood alongside the Samaritan woman and we'd have said to one another, "Me too."

I think we only have hard stuff to be able to look back and share the grace that came in the hard places and the hard times. Visit Kelly Basham's blog and if so inclined say thank you for mercy along with me and thank you for grace.

Link in profile to my blog.

#blossominfaith #gentlesavior #quietconfidence

Work of Hands

Art, bravery, grace, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

This thing I do, getting lost in words and paint, is not at all the work of my hands, but of His.

“And yet, O Lord, you are our Father. We are the clay, and you are the potter. We all are formed by your hand.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭64:8‬ ‭NLT‬

I can barely move this morning, huge canvas laid out on the floor last night, I set aside the angel commissions, set my sights on something I thought might be quite special.

Painting and repainting, my knees sore from kneeling, my back aching from reaching, my hands covered in blue grey beige brown paint, thick.

I will begin again today. Have already, spent unhurried time in my Bible and in the book I'm reading, Draw the Circle 40 Day Prayer Challenge, a book I've decided won't be set aside come Day 40.

Draw the Circle

I'll paint today. This time I'll tie my apron, I'll be less hurried. I will let it be or not yet, perhaps I'll finish the angels I've promised before getting upset over the landscape or maybe it will be today, I finish, hang it on the waiting wall.

Day 23 of Draw the Circle prayer challenge is about God saying No to prayers, then answering with a Yes that came from a Not Yet. I am horrible at waiting when it comes to anything that requires I do my part. I painted for five hours straight last night. It was miserable, there was no joy, there was aggravation, frustration and refusing to stop until it was done. Stubborn determination. Then it was done and was nothing at all like I'd hoped. I was disappointed. I had an idea, a perfect place for landscape, rearranged one whole wall and now it's waiting for me, the sun coming in and giving me a new idea.

I'll try again today, but this time with an easy hand, an accepting brushstroke and I'll wait again before I get all wrapped up and forget to eat, forget to rest. I'll not make it an idol, the measure or not of my worth.

The space may be vacant until it is right for what's good to be finished.

My circle today has multiple thick lines circling my thing I'm committed to continue.

Another circle has tiny words, names, needs and prayers for incomprehensible peace. I've taken to praying this way, filling one with others and one with a solitary request for me: things like peace, courage, clarity, and revelations.

Asking God, "Show me the way, make clear your desires for these things you've graced me with the ability to do."

The Circle with others, well I may never know, but I'm praying mighty things for people, things undeniably from God.

Waiting for the promises, trusting in the Father. Being okay with No and at peace with Not yet.

Letting the work of my hands be led by the maker of them.

I Believe, Soon

bravery, courage, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I had a thought this week, or maybe last.
It stopped me for a minute, made me anxious, made me wish for different, made me long for more.

Made me forget for a bit the more than enough that is mine.

I won't call it an epiphany because I consider epiphany good, of value and I suppose I find epiphany forward in thought.

No, not forward, my worries, they've been more backward.

I thought my thought, "What if the words stop coming? The so clear clarity needed to be recorded, what if I can't recall, if I can't record, if I for fear and time not free, become unable to write?"

My cousin told me it's coming.

She said she believes it is soon.

She's deliberate and decisive in her declaration. She speaks truth, cuts no corners, adds what makes better and leaves out what's not necessary.

She speaks the truth like she serves up dishes, plates it up, puts it in front of you, joins you there in the joy of her hands and then takes your plate away, leaves you full, content, lets you rest.

She knows I've been struggling. Tells me it's soon, the writing, the angels, not sure which or both; but, it's soon.

"God is going to give you freedom, Lisa and I believe, soon." she said.

But, I've been afraid although I know fear leads to nowhere.

Afraid I'm not enough, nor are my words or canvas.

Craziness.

Yes, crazy thing is I've written more and with more authenticity than ever before.

I've painted more often and more freely, more me and okay with me than ever in my life.

There's the fear of not enough, the insatiable emptiness caused by what if coupled with the pitiful thought of why not more.

I ramble.

I have been blessed. I assure you. I have.

Commissions for angels.

Another opportunity, chosen to be a guest writer on a well read blog.

Goes live tomorrow, my thoughts on gentleness.

I pray they turn minds, hearts and thoughts to good places, to God.

They are my words, my understanding, my relating to the story of Jesus and the time he initiated relationship with a woman at a well who'd decided herself unworthy.

A story of a gentle turning towards peace.

Yet, I've been afraid.

This week, last as well. I've been afraid of what may not be.

My days, the past two have been discombobulated. I'm going from thing to thing, told I could speak as long as needed, then someone else gets my attention by pointing frantically at their watch.

I get off track, room filled with faces, I struggle to know what should be said next, what to do, how to act, my chest aches, I'm afraid I've not done well, continue or stop abruptly?

Apologized for rambling then a self-proclaimed toastmaster tells me I should never apologize…no one knows you faltered…okay, yes, I know. I know.

Evening reading that's usually morning, Lord, set me free from the need to control, to be so very hesitant for fear of not being persistent!

So, I prayed. I circled round the word, Peace. I wrote it on my paper taped to my wall, the door closed, making dark my closet, the place I sometimes pray.

We walked, Colt and I. Approached the tall pines all clustered together.

The birds all frenzied it seemed, asking What? Where? Who?

When?

I longed to see them, such a frantic chorus, the melody of not sure.

Could they know I understood?

We walked on towards the open, the sky a steely blue, sunset coming, changing our scene.

And it was gradual, so much so I noticed.

We got back to where we began and the birds, more settled or scattered, not sure.

But, less an obstruction to my quiet, we stopped to rest in the place we had always paused before but had not in a long time.

Not for awhile and I realized then I'd been rushing towards someplace, my steps more like darting chances or longing lunges.

Tired and afraid or afraid to be tired
and unable, incapable.

We turned towards home unleashed, the moon hazy above, just past dusk.

The Rose of Sharon, the rare one, my husband told me.

I noticed the bloom, open and resting, the glory of its color and it was the answer I felt, I saw…I was reminded of rest, wait, faith.

"Come, Colt." I said and he came and I was better, more at peace.

What I have begun, I know because of faith, which is more, so much more than feeling, I will continue.

Now finish the work, so that your eager willingness to do it may be matched by your completion of it, according to your means. For if the willingness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what one does not have.”
‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭8:11-12‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee to Tell His Story and a post I love so much…living a life that lines up with my talk.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/happen-let-lives-preach-louder-lips/

Words, I Wonder

bravery, courage, Faith, grace, mercy, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

She replied to my comment about the absolute timeliness of her tender tone.

Newly acquainted if acquainted at all through the place where expression is shared called, "Reader".

Ocean all around me.

I wonder her whereabouts and how her thoughts turned towards me

Her words, I wonder.

Several days past, I'm looking for our exchange.

Trying to fathom how she might know.

Did I mention what's become my mantra, my affirmation and motivation?

Maybe I said so, that I'd decided to believe so.

That I was resting on three words?

Last week, the connection continued.

She remembered my upcoming question pending, anxious, worrisome issue.

This writer, this speaker, this person named Julie

Remembered and said she would pray.

Then added,

God is working.

And because I'd said the same exact thing to my pastor, to a friend and now a decidedly solid statement spoken to myself,

I figured, how could she know, I must've surely left it in my comment.

No, it just happened.

Crazy, I thought, oh my goodness!

I must tell you, I'm not a believer in coincidence.

Not at all.

But, something else, the sweetest most fancy of pretty fanciful words.

You won't find it on the pages of your Bible although it's much like blessing,

Much like miracle, like spiritual, perhaps supernatural.

Serendipity.

Yes, serendipity, yes,

an unexpected occurrence in a happy way.

So, tonight I will rest well, because

God is working.

Dare I believe, in serendipitous ways.

In miraculous ways, in unchanging ways.

In mercies that are new every morning

and in the words, I wonder, that one soul holds tight

and another soul

says, yes in agreement?

Little Specks of Much

Faith, grace, praise, rest, Vulnerability, wonder

Nothing but space and words between us three. 


Rambling and Random words.

Birds overhead not necessarily in search of crumbs, just happy to hover, excited it seemed. 


The day so pleasant in the midst of the miss part of hit or miss thunderstorms. 

We headed down to the beach, a quick little walk and when the radar was favorably wrong in its prediction,


 we stayed three or four times longer than the okay, we’ll head back in a minute pact, postponed seven or so times over. 


And the wide open space of blue gray bluer made me feel like the sweetest, most tiny speck of nothing significant but oh, so very much more. 

Oh, God, the nearness of you, I thought. 

Vulnerable, Uncovered 

bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, marriage, Prayer, Salvation, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

img_8021

Only just a few minutes filled up the space of the time the storm moved in and I went outside to notice the sky and then a little more space between us sitting by the pool.

We talked of God and Eden and things we keep covered or rip off the cover, I thought, exposing what we feel must be better, must be ours to know now.  I’d walked outside after the storm had shaken all the windows, my husband walked in the room and announced, “Well, that was some show.” Paused and then to make sure I noticed added “I probably shouldn’t have been standing out in it”.

I listen, knowing he’s talking about the lightning; but, he does this thing lately, like a conversation starter game.  If I hadn’t said, “You mean the lightning?” He’d have come back with “Don’t you wanna know about the show?”

And I would have listened as he told me something I already knew.  Such is the play of who we are now, husband and wife aging, grace and more grace. (Smile.)

I walked out front to see the sky. One big chunk to the left, clearing with a puff in plump peach colored sun popping through enormous cloud.

I turned to face the road and wide bands of dark cobalt stretch out to border the horizon with more clouds warning,  it’s storming over there.

Stood there for a while and wondered how it’s possible to see the sky and not believe.

“O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭8:1‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Why the sky and its display of power and authority in itself is not enough to make us sure of God.

Why we don’t stay sure for as long as we should when we get to see such glory when we go looking for it, notice it’s God.

“When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭8:3-4‬ ‭ESV

The night, too beautiful to be ignored, I walked out back to sit, turned back to see the view and the moon had broken through, full.

I tried to capture it; but, realized I can never do justice, so just gazed instead.

Still thinking about God.

When my husband came out to join me, I asked “Don’t you think it’s amazing how we get to experience earth’s beauty even though creation was not exactly as God planned in Eden?”

He replied, “Do you think we’d all be walking around naked, if Eve hadn’t messed up?”

And since I didn’t answer, he went on to wonder what I thought and said “We would all just be walking around naked and nobody would care about being naked…wouldn’t bother you at all.”

“I guess so.” I replied. Such is the dialogue between us, I’m thinking majesty and beauty, he’s thinking freedom and unclothed bodies. (Smile.)

I thought about Eve later, Adam too.  I reread the account of creation, reminded myself of the earth and sky’s forming, imagined God stepping back like I step back from a canvas, satisfied and thinking it turned out the way I wanted.

And God saw that it was good.

Genesis 1:26

 Adam was created, then Eve and the plan was complete, they’d multiply. The earth would be filled with men, women, children and families.

God welcomed them in, gave instruction on living and left them with a final word not to eat from the tree called knowledge, the tree that distinguished good from evil.

And they didn’t for a while. They must have enjoyed the garden; been content in their state, knowing all they needed was already known.

I wonder about this time in between, how contented changed to discontented and sufficiency became insufficient, how enough became never, always more.

Eve succumbs to the need for more knowledge, more control, more knowing and she eats the fruit that will help her know all, she’s been told.

The serpent’s rationale, well God must have surely known you’d want to eat from the tree or else he’d not have put it here. He wants you to be wise…your eyes will be opened to the bigger the better, the all, you’ll be like Him, the all-knowing.

Then they did their best to hide from God; they’d both become ashamed and they covered what God had intended as beautiful, uncovered.

So began the lots of our lives here on earth.

Wanting to know more than we need to know and then hiding away when we’ve rushed to know it all, certain that we can’t be expected to not know, to trust the one who made us, surely it’s okay to take control.

Yesterday, I read a favorite verse, clinging to just a few of its words.

The secret things belong to the Lord.

“The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law.”

‭‭Deuteronomy‬ ‭29:29‬ ‭ESV‬‬

There are some things that I might never know, that aren’t meant for me to uncover.

Yet, there are so many more I’ve waited to understand that I now see clearly.

Why the road led me to Carolina, my father’s instructions to return to college, the  plans I forced that fell through my fingertips and the healing that I prayed for, believing, but was not given my mama.

There are stories for my children, how things that didn’t turn out, did after all.

Adam and Eve tried to conceal themselves, told God, you can’t see us like this. We know you’ll be angry, we’re afraid so we’ve covered ourselves.

And He was disappointed.

Disappointed they didn’t believe his promise for them, that it wasn’t enough.

He called them out of hiding, asked if they ate from the tree, did someone tell you that you were naked or do you know things now you should not have known, things that weren’t necessary for you to understand?

You will see, some things are too wonderful to be known, to not be sought after, to not be taken hold of by force.

I think of David and his prayer to be restored to the joy of his salvation after giving in to lust and then trying to cover it all up.

I remember Rebekah, the mother who made it her calling to have one son favored over the other, their demise, her legacy.

And I treasure the story of Job. I see him abandoned and grieving, his body covered in sores and his commitment not to question. His friends, his wife all unable to wait alongside him when he’d said no to cursing God and dying.

I hold close his truth, my truth, all our truths…some things are simply too wonderful to know.

“’Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?’ Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.”

‭‭Job‬ ‭42:3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I told someone just now, the major planner that they are, looking far ahead into our futures and the things they expect just makes now look less than enough.

Makes the grand of now go unnoticed.

 

Told them, there’s no way to know that this good thing we expect will come for us. I’m not looking that far ahead nor am I assuming what the wonder of tomorrow will be or not be.

These are the things too wonderful for me to know, not mine to uncover.

Only mine to ponder, to have make more sense when the thoughts become words and I get to spread them out here or in the pages of a tiny pencil marked book, I get to be vulnerable, uncovered. (Smile.)

I’m linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee to Tell His Story.  Read here about why we shouldn’t be afraid to take scary chances.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/scared-heres-shouldnt-take-chicken-exit/

Understood 

bravery, courage, Faith, Prayer, rest, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder

I unhooked the clasp on his collar, letting go the tension of my command. 

The sky cloudless, air thick and lethargic, summer feeling too long already. 

I put no pressure on his wandering.

Unleashed the leash and let the high grass rub his belly, swoosh, swoosh, swooosh. 


Then he meandered around, circled back when I called “Hey!”

I’d had things on my mind an hour before. Running errands, traffic light, I look up to notice blankness of the face in the rear, then wait for the change. 

Tapped lightly on the knob to shut out the noise of radio and decided to pray. 

Prayed for my friend again. She wants the cancer in her brother not to have spread. She says he just decided he needed more time, more time to make up for the time he had not honored God. 

So, I prayed and said to no one around

“I understand.”

Then prayed for another heavy hearted for no certain reason, prayed somehow they’d know their value, know they’re loved and that whatever heavy weighted thoughts and concerns had them bent down low, they’d see relief and they’d see themselves as good despite whatever their own voice has been saying. 

Then, again…out loud for no one to hear, I added “because, I understand.”

I understand. 

So, I allowed myself a moment as I drove, it happened, just a hint of an invitation to cry.

Slightly moist little place on my cheek, I tap lightly with the tip of index finger and touch there, the place where understanding puddled up. 

Then decided once home, it’s not a workout I need, it’s a walk with Colt. 

So, I guess that’s why we walked the long way ’round, the way with no bounds, the overgrown places, open fields and no expectation or rule. 

I waited. I let him be

Understood. 

And I believe, me too.