writing

Secrets and Growth and Peace

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, family, fear, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, hope, memoir, mercy, obedience, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Serving, surrender, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

I believe God is pleased that we think of Him, ponder, consider His ways.

“Does not wisdom call out? Does not understanding raise her voice?”

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭8:1‬ ‭NIV‬‬

That’s just another example of His grace.

I believe God sees our gradual growth and celebrates rather than pontificates over why on earth has it taken her so long to arrive here, why can’t she stay in this place?

I believe God is simply happy to see our return, our return to believing that He knows.

I’m certain that morning is the most optimum time for gentle instruction.

I’ve not a clue as to why I woke up this morning with the question to myself.

How are you waking, with regret or redemption?

Why, oh why must I wake with such deep considerations?

Or maybe we all do, just keep them to ourselves.

Makes good sense, your brain filters your thoughts all through the night, transfers them to the place where the finished and important product, a lesson is delivered.

Voila’! Here you go! This message is just for you! God

Are you smiling now, imagining God saying “Voila'”?

Me too.

I think sometimes I think the oddest things and then realize there is always a reason.

A secret waiting to be revealed.

To be researched, to be determined what it is exactly God wants me to know, to hold on to as my own.

Wants me to u-turn, don’t go back that way, you were progressing, see now…stay here.

Be at peace.

“For God is not a God of confusion but of peace.

‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭14:33‬ ‭ ESV

Someone called this morning by accident. Her Bluetooth dialed the wrong Lisa. I knew her voice, thought Lord have mercy, did I call her and forget I did?!

But, I hadn’t and she reminded me of our relationship which led to me telling her what I’m doing now, hoping to use my grant writing skills to work with causes I believe in.

And that led to her telling me she had “chills” now because of an idea she has to strengthen the cause she is over.

We talked about it further and even longer about our faith, about how God wakes us to new opportunities every day and how none of them are accidents.

I considered her truth.

She considered mine as I shared with her my waking thought, regret or redemption, which will you choose to frame your day?

She said “Oh, that’s wise.” “Thanks”, I said and thought, thank you God for this confirmation of my next steps and direction.

Of letting some things go unattended to give my energy to what is new, even unseen, sort of brewing.

So, what is this state of mind and heart called “spiritual maturity”?

It is waking with regret less often in light of your redemption.

It is waking with the clear and attainable path towards peace.

It is recalling the stuff you felt God telling you to do afraid even if there’s fear in the room because there’s a reason you don’t know that God wants you to go, to be something He sees as necessary for others in the room.

He has us go places we don’t understand.

It is being attentive to a nudge that becomes a lengthy pause because you are still enough to become more wise, to receive either good or disappointing clarity so that your peace is not stolen and so that you grow.

That’s redemption, my friend.

Understanding what it is that is the taker of and opposing force of your peace.

Spiritual maturity is a splendid and secretly personal gift.

It is a fervent fire inside kept alive by your yearning to learn more, know more of God.

It is an acknowledgment of better days, contented minds, and restful nights because of your redemptive choice to forgo regret.

It is knowing you are still growing. It is glimpses of the secret place, the view of you through God’s eyes.

Smile.

It is not always easy, nor is it difficult at all.

The secret for me, intentional choosing which thoughts I allow to write scary, hurtful and impossible to understand stories.

“For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace.”

‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:6‬ ‭ESV‬‬

To set my mind on the awakening things of my mornings.

Lord, help me to stay quiet enough to know which way to stay my thoughts and which way my words and work should go. Because of your redemptive mercy towards me, Amen

Continuously Believe

birds, bravery, Children, contentment, courage, Faith, freedom, grace, heaven, hope, memoir, mercy, Peace, Prayer, rest, Stillness, surrender, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

I’m in between assignments, never had this much time on my hands.

I have, perhaps never been so quiet, so quiet I can almost hear God’s plans.

At least more than even before, though not fully I am sure.

The spaces in my mind occupied by busy and angst are uncomfortably new.

I must fill them with something, I thought, then waited and in tiny incremental steps, did one thing knowing God will do the next.

God is always working behind the scenes.

3:45 in the afternoon yesterday and I’m found with time to fill.

I sat poolside with a book and my husband until I’d had enough and three hours still until I’d need to get ready.

I’m goin’ for a walk, I told him and struck out like I do.

Happened upon a feather and I kept it although it was grey, not white or blue, oddly it was habitual, my picking it up, not my typical “totem discovered” enthused.

My music skipped annoyingly so I walked without a beat, a solitary robin above me, lifting in a rollercoaster rhythm through the trees.

I found the camera icon and flipped my phone around only to break the cycle, the fat robin never came back into view.

As if it say, that was just for you, no documenting our time together for others required.

Okay. I see.

This morning I remembered last night’s silent prayer.

Driving home later than usual, I’m in the passenger seat and we’ve been with people and chatter and both agreed upon what my husband calls a “conversational hiatus”.

Big semi-trucks are parked in their resting places in both directions of the interstate.

Their big red lights are dim like a soft sleepy glow. He comments, they’re required to pull over, somehow their stopping to rest is kept track of.

Oh.

I lean back, close my eyes and pause.

I pray remembering the bold request earlier today and then later a subtle satisfaction that the outcome will be okay either way and what I want and asked to come sooner than later might never come at all.

I settled it with God and myself then, okay.

Another person came to mind, someone I’ve no real attachment to, only aware of the seemingly futile reply to her prayers.

Someone I love hurts for someone she loves.

I prayed in a “Why not?” way for them, asking God to intervene, intervene in a way they’ve yet to see, a way that will seal the deal for an end to their anxiety.

For real I prayed, long and it seemed ridiculously up front, for real evidence of stability.

Prayer is a response to a nudge from God, so much more than seeking results or answers.

Prayer, the kind where it seems you’re sleeping, pausing, resting, prayer that comes because you notice God with you.

With you, a peaceful presence.

Pray more I tell myself now. More often, more spontaneously, more aware of God’s nearness and when someone comes to mind.

That’s a prompt, an invitation to conversate with our loving Sovereign God.

Pause to mention the person God brought to mind, ask God to see others more than He sees you.

The bluebirds don’t linger although they come close.

The tiny sparrows perch on the rusty barbed fence. I approach and they dart on their way.

The place that grows the flowers from a newly rain soaked ground is littered with egg of baby blue.

A new bird is learning to fly, leaving behind evidence for me.

For you.

To pray sans ceremony or setting, to pray and be changed and to pray for change to come true and be seen.

To pray continuously.

Continue and believe.

“pray continually,”

‭‭1 Thessalonians‬ ‭5:17‬ ‭NIV

Vulnerable Afflictions

Abuse Survivor, Angels, Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, fear, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, heaven, memoir, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Salvation, Serving, Stillness, Truth, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

I read the response of another the other day… “Who would you like meet?” His answer was “Jesus.”

And then another in a different place, oddly the same question posed. This person answered “Paul”.

Paul, the writer of, with certainty, eight books of the New Testament. Paul, who was a horrid man who was known as Saul who met Jesus and commenced with the telling of his truth from there.

At some point, I pencilled in clarification on a passage.

The verse describing the life of Jesus in me,

“We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.”

‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭4:10‬ ‭NIV‬‬

We carry around in us what Jesus died to save us from, our human tendencies, our vulnerabilities, our bends towards atrocities even. We carry with us the humanity of us and we simply seek to lessen its hold.

Paul knew who and what He had been. He celebrated when the “outwardness” of him was being overshadowed, wasting away by the developing of the inner him, Jesus in him.

He was focused on eternity and driven to tell others so.

That was his story line, the telling and retelling of his rescue for a purpose story.

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭4:16-18‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The words I wrote in the margin are barely visible, words forming a question about my own vulnerabilities and the display of them making me more aware of the human me… a gradual revelation, the changes to the heart of me.

I won’t say I’ve come a long way. I just know I am not the same, not who I was.

The same as Paul.

The margin as of today has a sketch of a girl in repose.

She sees how far she’s come and she knows she has a big part in how far she will go.

The coming to terms with her story being incomparable to any other.

She cares less although not quite enough yet about herself as she does others.

What’s your story?

She is accepting that her part is just to keep telling in written and painted creation, occasionally or eventually maybe before an audience or in a small circle.

Who knows?

We will not know fully unless we go, simply go forward to the places we get to glance back on and say,

I did it.

I kept going.

My story is not so scary as before, not so tinted by affliction colors.

Stronger.

Strongly, we step forward.

We leave behind us for others, through our stories.

We just prompt another to wonder.

We cause them to consider why we believe in something we don’t yet fully know, why we yearn to keep learning.

And given opportunity, we answer to tell,

We believe because believing is the closest thing to hope.

And because we our story of before, all of our vulnerabilities and afflictions only mercy references and notes for the rest of our story.

Believe and continue.

5 Women Redeemed

Abuse Survivor, Angels, Art, confidence, contentment, courage, curiousity, daughters, hope, Motherhood, Peace, Stillness, Vulnerability, waiting, writing

My May Newsletter is all about choices we make to allow God to redeem your messy and or miserable situations. Use the little pop up form to sign up and read more. I learn as I write and I am learning as I go.

We are never unaccepted by Jesus. 

His offer is redemption. Our choices are our own. This month rather than focus on one certain story, I happened upon five and each story of a Jesus encounter came with a chance to make a choice. …

Thoughts on Heaven and Mamas

Abuse Survivor, Angels, Art, birds, Children, courage, daughters, family, Forgiveness, grace, grief, memoir, Mother’s Day, Motherhood, Peace, Prayer, sons, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, writing

This morning I cleaned out my “Saves” on Facebook, stuff I thought I may read later, there were over 50 various things I considered useful at the time.

Same old same, healing from trauma, posts about family, even more expert recommendations to grow my blog, have my voice heard, write the book, don’t give up…

I deleted almost all. I have to be honest, I am on writerly advice overload.

At the bottom was a note, the Facebook kind, I suppose my idea of blogging before I blogged and it was called 30 Randoms…things I’ve learned since mama died.

It is a list compiled 10 years ago come November.

Much of it is the same.

I suppose the ache began when someone said change your profile pic to your mom’s, one of those FB things that make you either go along or rebel.

I rebelled in a kind of pitiful, mulling over pondering way, my way.

I don’t have a photo I haven’t shared before and the one I have is dated and it doesn’t portray the mama I want to portray.

Grief changes its hold on you over time.

I miss my mama, see the cardinals all the time that say she is near.

I’m afraid though it’s simply not enough. Well meaning people will say oh she sees you, she’s looking down and you stand silent like a big dumb block not replying to their little kind words or something to say remedy.

I believe my mama is in heaven; but, I do not fully understand what it’s like for her there.

Possibly her spirit still lingers near me, possibly it’s my memory and longing for her involvement that manufactures this comfort and assurance for me.

Here we are over 10 years and there’s so much she should know.

Updated here are 30 randoms I’m offering up as prayers to heaven in hopes that someone else up there runs out to find you and you sit together and you laugh and cry happy heavenly tears over what is going on, how we’re doing without you and daddy down here:

1. The grandchildren are something else altogether and individually, they are just enough you to be stubborn and outspoken and often irreverently rebellious in being themselves!

2. We are all still married to the ones you saw us with before you passed away.

3. Baby Brown is due any moment of a very soon day. This will mean three great grands. Our home has a baby room.

4. Your grandsons are strong, just enough cockiness of your daddy cushioned by the gentle handsome ways of our daddy.

5. I left my job that was destroying my health. I am an artist. I get “pissy” and I’m sure have a certain look when someone says a painting is “cute”.

6. I am a writer. I will be going by “grandma” just like you and I will be helping my daughter with her baby, just like you.

7. I am less afraid but still prefer to stay hidden.

8. I left the church that made me feel I’d never be enough.

9. I sit every morning with my Bible, a pencil and a memorandum book.

10. When I’m sad or angry or anxious, I clean the whole house, rearrange stuff.

11. People call me an open book. I reply with only certain stories.

12. I reunited with Melanie and revisited the times I fell apart and she helped you and daddy hold me together.

13. I regret going home the night you passed away.

14. I understand you probably wanted it this way.

15. I love Jesus the way you lived it, love everyone the best you can, not more than you should to those who love themselves so much they don’t need yours.

16. Be kind to your husband, as he ages you become everything to him.

17. Love a dog, this love will sustain you.

18. Love food, not its control over you.

19. Delicious things are only delicious if savored not embellished or used to satiate empty bottomless places.

20. Accept God’s grace.

21. Being pitiful is not pretty or permitted.

22. Wear more red. Paint your toenails red, learn to wear a hat.

23. Don’t stress.

24. Stress will kill you. (I’ve told you before, Lisa Anne).

25. I’m going by Lisa Anne now mama, occasionally “LT”.

26. I sold three paintings last week and I gave one expensive one away.

27. One painting found a new home, it was inspired by your high school photo and I called it “Heaven Meets Earth”.

28. Today, I will believe there are better days ahead, I’ll not long as much to have you here to have your hand touch mine, to see your face when you see ours.

29. Today, I’ve decided I’ll ask again and if you’re listening, maybe you can soften the way. For Mother’s Day, I want a dog.

Yes, how fitting, how perfect, how precious it will be. A puppy or a rescue, a new home with me to represent and honor you. Yes, I’ve decided, I’ll ask again.

Don’t you think it’s time, Greg? Time for us to get a dog? If not now he might say soon and I’ll let it go, trust it’s just not a good time.

30. Better now, I’m better. Grief is a mystery and an unexplainable thing. Words from others who don’t truly know are better left unsaid.

There’s really no right response other than remembering.

When Mother’s Day is without a mom, a mother, an outspoken and gone too soon mama!

The greatest gift is to allow all of the remembering you can stand!

P.S. I joined the Artist Guild and there’s an exhibit tonight I don’t think I’ll be attending. One, possibly two of my pieces will be displayed. Some artists will have ribbons on their works. I’m not going because I still don’t care for spotlights or attention.

Remember the time you and daddy drove four hours because a piece I created was chosen for a blue ribbon?

I remember it well and the years that followed dulled my shine and the gift of your being there.

So, if I didn’t say so then, thank you for telling me back then that it was possible,

I could become an artist according to you!

I finally believe you.

Happy Mother’s Day. I feel you near, do not fully understand it, I do believe you have become an angel.

Lisa Anne

By Grace Consecrated

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, curiousity, Faith, freedom, grace, hope, memoir, mercy, obedience, Peace, Redemption, rest, Stillness, surrender, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

I cannot explain the way or the why of how this happens; but, it happens with regularity and it happens suddenly with slow unraveling upon my waking to begin a day.

I woke up and found myself curious over the word “consecrate”.

“God understands the way to it, and he knows its place.”

‭‭Job‬ ‭28:23‬ ‭ESV

Yesterday evening I adjusted my route. The breeze was without a thick heat and the trees were swaying only slightly as if escorting the predicted storm away.

Gently. Not today.

I’ve been walking this way for most of my grown up life. My saying, “unraveling the day” is an explanation that is for me, succinct.

A great day was Saturday, no other way to describe the time. A college graduation, a daughter and son and family together. It was truly celebratory, memorable like no other before.

I am in between things.

Now waiting for the any moment call, it’s time for baby, we are on our way to the hospital.

We will be grandparents.

I’ve told people when speaking of my resignation after ten years that I’ve got lots of “balls in the air” and that I’m hoping to establish a rhythm, get into a “mojo” of work from home.

Soon I’ll be helping with a baby and still working in some way, using what I’ve learned and hoping to combine it with my faith to help others while gaining just enough income.

Yes, this has been my response to interested individuals who are either thrilled for my new role or who question what on earth is she thinking…no income, no position, no dependable check every month?

I’ve been stuffing it down. People who are skeptics, people who have no faith in leaps of faith like this.

I walked yesterday and saw the sun making shadows on the open field now overgrown with high grass and weeds with fluffed up looking tops reminding me of lace, tiny yellow buds here and there.

I always pause. God is near.

Agree with God and be at peace. Job 22:21

I like the way God lays His light down in layers. Different all the time, different prompts and patterns.

I continued and thought to jog but didn’t.

Felt no need for further self-punishment.

I walked on and changed my path to circle back uphill through every single shady cul de sac.

There was no rush, I took the back way and reversed my pattern, uphill first then downhill the rest of the way on the trail.

The evening drawing nearer as I stepped over the roots forcing through the hard pavement trail, I paused in front of my favorite field and noticed a dandelion.

The sunlight landed on its little circle of soft peach fuzzy head. It stood alone in the high tangle of weeds.

I’m certain it was for me.

I stepped forward, walked with renewed conviction.

I’ll just get up the same way every morning and make each day my vocation.

I’ll go about my day with intentionality and pursuit of God’s ways.

My first journal entry, May 6th?

An intentional life, my prayer.

  • Clarity – where to go, what to do, to create, to initiate
  • Commitment – go there and see it through, finish what you begin.
  • Consecrated- do all of it for God.

I’m not a biblical scholar.

I happen upon wise words and want to understand them, want to have them make me more than what I see, what tiny bit I know of me, I seek to solve the mysteries of me.

To consecrate means to make or declare something holy, to a higher purpose, even a divine one.

Is it possible that all I do means more than a finish, the attainment of a goal, an outcome resulting from input, the result of my knowledge and hands?

It is possible if we believe we are loved by God, created for more than what we can see.

God understands the way to it, this consecrated daily life.

He knows how to make new wine of our old bitter tastes.

He desires to make us vessels of new.

Consecrated is a word mostly found in the Old Testament, difficult to understand, ritualistic often and sometimes about laws and food deemed unfit.

I considered what if I thought of all I do a return of my grace for God’s grace towards me.

What if I returned to God His investment in me through my investment of all I do for Him, a divine ROI?

Perhaps deciding to do everything from a place of love in light of grace bestowed me makes consecration easier to understand.

For it is grace that brought me thus far and grace that has and will lead me on.

Grace like a phone call just now to arrange a meeting, a program seeking my grantwriting knowledge to discuss my alignment with their mission becoming more understood and known.

A phone call I thought might come yet did not with certainty know.

An opportunity no longer hanging up in the air, a ball clutched in the palm of my hand now captive with the possibility to be divinely pursued, my work through God’s hands and my prayer.

A clear expression of God’s love for me in this place of uncertainty layered thickly with faith.

Be persuaded, timid soul, that He has loved you too much to cease loving you. Francois de la Mothe Fe’nelon

I asked God to help me understand what it means to live consecrated and he led me to the Book of Job, a chronicle of a good and godly man who was met by trouble and tragedy that made absolutely no sense at all.

Job never stopped believing in a God that knew all. Job lived a consecrated life, refused to trade his understanding of it all for the possibility of losing what He knew, God.

“For God speaks in one way, and in two, though man does not perceive it. In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falls on men, while they slumber on their beds,”

‭‭Job‬ ‭33:14-15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I’m paying more attention to my morning thoughts, less prone to reach for my phone or to jump up quickly from my bed.

There are important and enlightening ways for me to go, not rushing, more resting.

Waiting for His clarity to guide my committed pursuit and to follow His lead, with intentional steps towards what might help someone, less haphazard, though ever imperfect, my pursuit of Holy and divine.

Every morning, grace comes my way and I am learning to listen.

“And I will give him the morning star.”

‭‭Revelation‬ ‭2:28‬ ‭ESV‬‬

To believe and continue.

Consecrated by grace.

Foes and Footstools

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, fear, hope, memoir, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, rest, Stillness, surrender, Trust, Truth, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

I have just a few blooms left of the farewell lilies.

I picked the withered petals, adding water to preserve what’s yet to bloom, like life still good to come from what has and is fading.

We can be confident that our God is always good.

Psalm 108 ends on a confident note, David says he knows that with God all of our victories are valiant ones.

Then the mood shifts. It’s sort of heavy and negative.

It’s real.

It’s about our foes, not just physical enemies, it can be circumstance, unforeseen change, opposition we sense or walk around carrying in our souls.

Enemies are not just people, they are the stuff of our negative stories, the ugly and sad of an imperfect world.

The struggles that come with intent to steal our peace.

Psalm 109 is an outspoken plea for help from God from David in light of his accusers, those who were attacking him through deceit.

I read it and sense David’s frustration and defeat. It is not easy to read as he asks for God to intervene to not allow blessing to come near his foe, only curses. David’s words are an outcry to God, a totally honest plea…asking God “do you see all that is happening to me?”

I love, love, love this honesty!

Psalm 109 ends with praise as if to say thank you God for letting me get that off my chest, don’t you worry, I am praising you anyway!

Could David have felt like me, honestly, God I promise to do my best?

Maybe.

With my mouth I will give great thanks to the Lord; I will praise him in the midst of the throng. For he stands at the right hand of the needy one, to save him from those who condemn his soul to death. Psalm 109:30-31‬ ‭ESV‬‬

And then, Psalm 110 keeps on teaching us how to live undefeated. It begins with a reminder to be patient, a reminder that He is near and that He sees it all.

“The Lord says to my Lord: “Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies your footstool.” Psalm 110:1‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I’m smiling now because all I can think is sit down now, take a deep breath, put your feet up. I see you.

Rest.

#continueandbelieve #heknowsmyname #godisincontrol

Truth Is

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, curiousity, Faith, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, hope, memoir, mercy, Peace, Prayer, Teaching, Trust, Truth, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

Imagine always knowing everything, all the angst driven questions about you and all around you, people, stuff, nagging questions.

We wait for understanding and get all frustrated in the waiting.

As if we’re in an audience before the big emotion driven announcement.

As if a large presence of a person intent on projecting themselves as an authority on the subject

Is up high on a mountaintop and is speaking into a megaphone of sorts, this presence echoing down into our valley

That we happen to be stoic and standing in.

We are waiting.

Looking up longingly with our faces intent and our ears straining to retain every word.

Anticipating a great and mighty answer.

For me, the answer to this prayer.

What is the truth?

My prayer yesterday evening, one of very few words as I knelt in the bathtub after my shower.

God, I want to know the truth.

And He answered me this morning.

I woke with no coffee and so I made a Chick Fil A run.

Rather than music, I listened to a podcast on curiosity. The voice of Elizabeth Gilbert was strong buffered by gentle interludes.

Elizabeth Gilbert on Curiosity over Passion

I arrived back home, poured my coffee from the cup into a pretty mug, opened my memorandum, April 26th entered and then wrote boldly.

You will know the truth and the truth will set you free.

I wanted to assure myself, you will know the what and how and why and who of this troubling situation. You will know truth.

Then I considered, well Lisa Anne, What is truth?

Then rather than ruminate or dictionary search, I sat quietly and I listened to input from it would seem nowhere.

What is truth?

Truth is knowing that you are not all-knowing, never will be. Truth is knowing that you do have and are loved by a God who knows all. That knowledge is your truth. This truth is always enough.

“Jesus said to the people who believed in him, “You are truly my disciples if you remain faithful to my teachings. And you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”

‭‭John‬ ‭8:31-32‬ ‭NLT‬‬

It occurs to me now, which would I choose given one or the other?

Would I choose to know everything, every behind the scenes calculation and misconstrued conversation?

Would I choose the precision of each coming occurrence, its timing and its success or failure?

Would I choose to know the truth about all things, all human and prompted by sinful predisposition to veer interactions with others?

Or would I choose truth, would I choose knowing Jesus and abiding there?

May I turn myself around smack dab in the middle of life’s road when I venture the opposite way, seeking to know it all over trusting the One who does.

“Jesus told him, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one can come to the Father except through me.”

‭‭John‬ ‭14:6‬ ‭NLT‬‬

I’d rather know Jesus than be a know it all.

Thank you, Father for answering my Friday night prayer on this quiet Saturday morning. I am yours. You are truth. Because of mercy, Amen

May I cling to this knowledge, I know God. God knows me.

Truth is.

This truth is all we need.

What is it that you are dying to know? Is there an issue, an affront, an unkind occurrence or maybe a hope you need to believe might come true?

May you, like me find peace if only at first in tiny little bits, in the truth of abiding in Him.

And may our tiny little epiphany moments lead to hours and eventual days and whole lives hemmed in safely by mercy, grace guiding us onward.

Onward in a way that absolutely no momentary circumstantial truth matters, only the truth Himself and the truth of Him.

Happy Saturday y’all! Today is a very good day!

All Promises Forgotten

Abuse Survivor, bravery, contentment, courage, doubt, Easter, Faith, fear, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, hope, memoir, mercy, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

There’s a wide empty field there. An expanse of open where the sunbeams fall in different ways through the trees.

A sound sometimes catches me, a squirrel, a bird or so soft it could be just the movement of the weeds.

Yellow pops of joy on top of tall green.

I consider this midpoint on the trail, the level place before I shift to jog and then struggle up the sudden steep place of a curving hill.

Then round the corner, oh it feels so free!

I am effortless, I swoosh past the houses. I careen.

There is no easy stride without the one that requires an inward decision to keep going.

There is no bliss over arriving finally without the questionable continuing your journey.

Today is the day between the dark death of Jesus Christ and the glorious morning a mourner discovered the empty tomb.

Today is the middle day, the day marked by all promises forgotten.

Jesus told them it would be so.

A little while, and you will see me no longer; and again a little while, and you will see me. Jesus, to the disciples. John 16:16

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Yet, it was so very hard to believe.

The miracle of it all.

I believe.

Much of life gets hard when we are in between. This morning I read that God keeps all of His promises.

I’m prone to worry over whether or not that could be true for me, that’s the human in me as was the human in Jesus.

In the garden he prayed, if it is possible for me to achieve what is your will for every human, the creative works of your hand, if it is possible,

Father, God maybe you have another plan.

“And he withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, and knelt down and prayed, saying, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.”

And when he rose from prayer, he came to the disciples and found them sleeping for sorrow, and he said to them, “Why are you sleeping? Rise and pray that you may not enter into temptation.””

‭‭Luke‬ ‭22:41-42, 45-46‬ ‭ESV‬‬

In what ways have you suffered?

What memories have you that represent redemption, foster continued hope?

What years of depression and dismay have you survived?

Here’s an example from my Instagram on yesterday:

Why I believe in redemption. I open the mail thinking it’ll be just a copy of my diploma, instead it’s an emotional chronicle of about 10 or so years. I lost my art scholarship, came home to try Georgia Southern. Some things happened because of me and to me. In 1982, it ended, Academic Suspension. 10 years later, I began again and graduated “In Good Standing”. #thecolorsofmybible #redemptionstory #nevertoolate #beginagain

Everything is restorable.

Struggle yields hope.

What is meant to destroy, through Christ, seeking His will, pairing it with human discipline and determination, is a redeemable starting point for a story.

I’m not who I was.

Happy Easter weekend.

Continue and believe.

God Believes in You

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, fear, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, memoir, mercy, Peace, Redemption, Stillness, Trust, Vulnerability, writing

April’s newsletter is the first in a series of seven stories of how nothing is wasted with God, stories of women redeemed.

It begins like this…

When you didn’t or don’t now see evidence of Him, He sees you. When you knew very little of Him or forgot all you knew, He knew and knows you. When your hardships enslave you, cause fear and dismay, God cares for you. When harm came your way and it seems nothing or no one intervened to prevent it, God kept you, protected you. 

 I know this to be true. I am here to tell.

So are you.

Lisa Anne Tindal