patient, yet eager

Children, courage, Faith, rest, Trust, Vulnerability
Waiting

Waiting

I have been praying.

Lately, I have been praying hard.

Praying that good will come.

Good ones I love, good to come their way.

That a rough patch will be made smooth.

That anxiety and fear will be just useless worry

That a time of weariness will lead to rest or to a change.

Or just strength to continue

That my words, my prayers, my tiny little notes of scripture or “love you, don’t forget” will stick like oatmeal to ribs on my grown up children

That my love for my children will be a powerful foundation, strong and constant

I am waiting, because prayers spoken and unspoken have tuned my Lord’s ear.

Clear, always clear as a bell on a quiet night

He implores,  “Wait patiently, yet eagerly and expectantly my child, your face tilted upwards, anticipating.”

Eager for blessings, for good.

God is good. Has good for us, no doubt.

moving mountains

courage, Faith, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder
Waiting to see

Waiting to see

There’s an image in my mind.

I’m standing, alone and facing a mountain.

Nothing but trees, overgrowth, and wildly growing bits and pieces of brush.  Limbs, broken and resting in varying degrees of decay.

I stand, perplexed by the mountain.

My feet find level ground and planted still and resolute, I focus on the mountain. I am waiting to see.

Concerns and unanswered prayers linger.

Days interrupt with distractions but are filled with ritual;  yet, sometimes spontaneity.

But, then a thought, a nudge reminds…there’s still this  looming concern, this heart-tugging issue, this still mysterious waiting to be “done and stronger for it” nagging unknown.

Diversions are good, like standing in an open field and turning to notice a bird, happy to witness its flight.

Or deciding to rest, so lying down and mesmerized, getting lost in the bright blue and feathery white fluff of the wide expanse of sky.

Or deciding to walk down a path leveled by another’s feet

To feel compelled, excited to venture…to digress for a bit

To allow a break from the discipline of waiting.

Then suddenly reminded, like the turn of the head or the glance over the shoulder… the mountain, you remember the waiting, the unknown.

Still there, still overwhelming

Obscuring your view, reminding you of the enormity of it and the uselessness of your abilities.

Nothing good comes by force, you remember.

Nothing to do but wait

So, I wait. Heels dug in, feet level, balanced, eyes focused. Heart surrendered.

I wait, because I know the immovable can only be moved by God.

I pray. I do not lose hope.

Mountains can be moved.

Surrendered and expectant to see the clearing,   good, the better, the best. 

The mountain before you will become a plain. Grace, grace. It is God’s grace.  Zechariah 4:7

begin again

courage, Faith, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability
Pennies and love

Pennies and love

When I glance down and see a penny, I bend, hold it tightly, thumb and index finger sort of focused on the texture, the gift of finding it.

Finding pennies changes the course of my day.

I regroup, feel a glimpse of angels, a nod of affirmation…

Keep trying, stay faithful.

God is good, has good for me.

His love is unending.

We wander, drift, forget or forego our faith

He waits.

He brings to light our void

Causes us to long,  gently, sometimes firmly calls us back, takes sin blinders and masks of selfish intentions from our eyes.

We find our way back.

Our heart, again beats for Him and we shine brightly, resting in His embrace.

His patient embrace.

We begin again, noticing pennies on our path and a longing to be held by a God who never lets go and believes in unending new beginnings.

His unfailing love, high as the heavens…and he removes our rebellion as far as the east from the west. Psalm 103:11-12

not knowing

Children, courage, Faith, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability
In God's hands

In God’s hands

Heather’s about to graduate high school here.

A beautiful girl, having recently met her first love.

Now, a grad student and 4K teacher, a teacher who loves.

A young teacher, already honored for her accomplishments.

The hard times in the middle,though.

Her change of heart and mind of college choice, now just a blur…an insignificant blip in time.

Then, the heart problems. The scary, wildly, unpredictable heart condition.

Middle of the night, tachycardia that wouldn’t slow down, hurried ER trips. Horrific procedures that tried but didn’t fix.  How scared, how vulnerable I felt.

Almost a year now of better. Perhaps, grew out of it. Maybe, it was just for a time. A reminder to embrace faith.

We did. She and I, our faith grew.

I think of the fear that I carried, the scenarios I imagined.

Austin was chubby here and still little boyish. About to begin middle school, running with his friends, all of them baseball stars.

Middle school came and went followed by a period of growing up, literally straight and tall.

Pictures of a very thin boy and questions of a condition diagnosed by whether his fingers could bend crazy ways and “Oh, I hear something unusual in His heart.”

All was well, through it all, well and good.

Now, a handsome, broad-shouldered (very tall) young man.  Weight caught up with height. Still same, one lip upturned smile. Still sarcastically handsome.

Senior pictures and college choices, already accepted by two of his favorites…got that behind him. Choice is his.

Still a whole lot of unknown.  A wishing of knowing what will be.

Tonight though, I am thinking about and praying for a mom I’ve never met. I imagined her as famous and as I began my writing journey months ago, hoped one day I could share my words in a big way too.  She has published a book.

Yet, I felt I couldn’t relate.  She is young, pretty, beautiful family and home I decided. I’ll just read her blog posts and be content to follow.

Then, I read about her son, Zachary and his mysterious, enigma of a condition that is causing his knee to swell. She poured her mama pain and worry into her words and I began to pray, still praying for Zachary.

This morning, her blog spoke of digging deep into your faith reserve.  I thought,  “Been there, came through.”

Let’s pray tonight for Zachary and for all the mamas like me, you, and Renee who might be in a place of not knowing, a place of trust in times of trouble.

Trust me in your times of trouble, and I will rescue you, and you will give me glory. Psalm 50:15

TMI – knowing too much

courage, Faith, Motherhood, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability
Trusting without knowing

Trusting without knowing

I’m pretty sure I was rude twice yesterday.  A discussion was going on with a committee at a table across the room.  Someone said,  “I bet Lisa knows.”  I quickly spoke up and said, pretending to be not so serious,   “Of course, I do. People think I know everything.”  A friend’s face turned towards me as if to say,  “Got the message loud and clear, stop asking Lisa to have all the answers.”  Said friend is a board member and knows firsthand the variety of rather serious requests and issues I tackle. He’s a huge support. Still, his look said it all. I was rude.

Lately, though, there are so many things I just don’t know.  Things I thought would be clear, that are causing me to wait, requiring me to see my quite minimal role in the big picture of outcomes. The ones close to home and to heart, my children.  Things I thought would line up, using an “if this… then, this approach.”  What I’m realizing in this time of faith testing is just how little I do know…a lesson in humility and a reminder of my role in God’s plan, to trust.

I was able to answer the question. I did, in fact have the answer and since I was among friends, I hope only minimal damage was done. I apologized. The topic was suicide, all questions are hard.

After awhile, you just need a break from the hard questions. The not knowing and not being able to know is exhausting. After all, I’m not a Survivor of Suicide Loss, I just know people who are.  They are truly left not knowing, imagine their struggle, their fatigue.

I’ve met people who have told me their gut wrenching stories and so, yes, I do have insight on the subject.  That insight, those stories have taken up residence in my mind and so I notice, I contemplate, I filter circumstances and demeanor of friends and family through the chronicles of survivor’s stories. I look too closely sometimes, putting too much pressure on myself, probably those around me.

When it comes to suicide, people say things they shouldn’t.

People don’t say things they should.  

Still I know the checklist of signs, the right questions to ask are stored in my mind and far too often, I’m stuck in the quick sand of thinking, analyzing, researching.

What if this happens in my life?

What does this mood mean?  Will this disappointment lead to hopelessness? Will someone I love be so lost and alone or so in fear of what might be or what can’t be that they decide to take their life?

This is when knowledge is too much, too much knowing, not enough trusting. This is when God reminds me who He is and I am once again enveloped in the wings of His grace, His mercy, His knowledge….such knowledge is too much for me!

When I know too much, have too much expertise,  I forget who God is.  When what I understand overshadows what God already knows I’m nothing but perplexed. My knowledge is too much. It is useless and damaging, almost suffocating.  It is then I am lost and hopeless. Then, that I have positioned myself as all-knowing instead of knowing the one who knows all. It is then, I am reminded to return and rest…to be me, quiet and confident. (Isaiah 30:15)

Tomorrow, I will say a few words to welcome a group of Survivors of Suicide loss at our Out of the Darkness Walk.   I will simply remind them that I care.

When you’re happy and you know it

courage, Faith, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder
We sing, God sings

We sing, God sings

My degree is in Psychology. It started as Art.

Detours of my own making and a need, I think to make sense of my sorrows, my sidetracks and my childhood guilted me into Psychology.  A traumatized, self-destructive,  “adult child lost and alone heal thyself”.

I know a couple of young women who are telling me they want to major in Psychology. I know a little about one and quite a bit about the other. They admire my work with the homeless, with suicide prevention, and with those isolated by mental illness.

I care deeply about my work; but, I’m happiest out walking, with a book, writing or excitedly blending paints onto canvas.

Today, I had the chance to tell one of these young women about the most important choice of life’s work or career.

The choice to have the courage to do the happy thing…the thing that fulfills, that pulls you back in like a welcome back home embrace.

That’s the work of your heart, the God design for you.

I reminded her where she felt happiest because I have seen her there.  She told me again of her dream career…that thing she daydreams about thinking, “If I could do this one day…this is what I want to do one day.”

And as she describes her imaginings, eyes bright, smile peaceful, I say  “That’s exactly the thing you should do.”

Because, that is the thing God knows you should do, he created you to do.

So, what derails, hinders, handicaps, causes us to choose the easier, most predictable path?

We settle for fear that our dream is too big. We quiet our heart and hear everyone else. Do the expected thing.

Not Believing Good Things can happen for you is the smallest, yet biggest determinant in your goals, your dreams.

God smiles when we smile. He rejoices over us with singing.

I hear God singing more these days.

Reading my Book

courage, Faith, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability
2014-11-05 15.49.47

Believing in me, inside out

Years ago, I imagined the most phenomenal breakthrough of breakthroughs to free myself from memories of trauma. I didn’t tell too many people because I realized they would wonder  “Why in the world does she think that way?”

I believe some people, knowing I put a whole lot of thought into this solution,  realized how serious I was…probably were sad for me that I would go to such extremes. Some avoided me.

Some, most likely reacted to the honesty of my revelation of trauma and saw me in a different light. Perhaps, even found me courageous for making it through. Maybe they treasured that dim little strip of brightness they saw in me not always overshadowed by the dark recollections of pain.

My idea, a medical procedure, brain surgery to identify and extract the section that stored traumatic memories, the ones that overshadowed, blocked out anything good.

The memories that would catch fire and destroy good days with the match strike of some unintentional trigger.

Essentially,  a lobotomy of the chunk of brain storing memories that kept me focused on what couldn’t be, of memories that spoke so loudly of my lack, my struggle to move towards enough…contented and deserving of good, of confident days.

I haven’t thought of my memory removing procedure in years. My memories are me, they are in every chapter of my book. The tragedy, dysfunction, and fearful pieces of my story are the scripture of my book.

My memories are for good, for declaration of authentic  “Grace of God saved me”  moments!

My memories are the words, lines, chapters in my book. Honest and open, drawing in the reader of my book.

Writing my book?

No,  not yet. But closer to trying. To feeling capable and worthy.

Right now, I’m  Reading my Book.

I’m really glad nobody tore any  of the pages out.

I can rest. The Lord has been so good to me, saved me from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling. Psalm 116:  7-8