31 days of writing http://write31days.com

31 Days, Freely – Why

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, fear, grace, Labradors, memoir, Redemption, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

In the work I do, I’ve learned the significance of the “why”.

A quiet, learned and soft-spoken gentleman spoke words almost ten years ago that I’ve used as my guide.

“Why should I care?”, the question potential donors are counting on my application and conversations to have an acceptable and compelling reply.

Yesterday, I began my day with my bare feet in the wet grass, the sunshine through moving clouds making pretty shadows on the green.

I welcomed the day with a big sweet dog that fours ago was an uncontrollable crazy question of why.

I returned home last night to a kitchen that wasn’t quite clean enough for me and a bed waiting to be made straight and ready for my rest.

(These are things I can control, small things of mine.)

In twelve hours of day there were interruptions, thoughtful and purposeful conversations and heaviness, heavy long and long drawn exchanges over loss by suicide and why.

I listened and did my best to lead, direct and redirect, knowing there’s no agenda here, there’s no real set of ground rules, no conversational etiquette, a support group for those bereaved by suicide.

There is only me, the timekeeper and host who sits sort of head of the table and gives space for the twelve or so separate unending respective and at times, remorseful whys.

So, I thought of small things before bed, still am just now.

Small things like a goofy rescue dog as crazy as I’ve ever known and all he now knows and has settled down for us and settled a whole lot of stuff for us.

Love him, love us.

I thought of the small mercies and grander mercies I’ve known.

I thought of my cousin’s timely call she’d considered an interruption and how I assured her, oh no!

How she prayed, prompted me to pray.

To pray giving thanks for small things in light of the others’ large, troubling and grievous things of others.

There’s a sweet, sweet song I love, the artist not so famous.

It has a happy little rhythm, a proclamation of sorts. Her voice, dancing lightly the lyrics of how the mountains before us will become plains.

“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.

‭‭Zechariah‬ ‭4:10‬ ‭NLT‬‬

The prophet Zechariah spoke these words, recorded for me, for us to know that greater things are still to come.

Not necessarily grander in terms of perfection from our perspective.

But, certainly grander. Grander, in light of your why. Grander, not so much grandeur or achievement or acclaim.

A grander view of God.

Oh, the God of small things.

Alli Rogers “Small Things”

Like tennis balls, wet grass and interruptions we at first are aggravated over and then allow.

And are reminded why, the small things that enlighten us, remind us, compel us to pray,

Saying, thanks. Yes, God, thanks.

Today, I’ll put figures and outcomes and measures together and I’ll combine knowledge with true stories as a way to describe the difference made by a home, a temporary place to transition, to believe in the possibility of better.

Work, life, God and why.

I don’t despise the days of small things.

The mountains before me are becoming gradual plains. I see it more clearly now and understand why I’m so much more certain.

God is with me, can be trusted, can make my big bad things bring small and sometimes even greater good.

Father, our God, let us not despise the day of small things.

Because of mercy, Amen

31 Days, Freely – Inspire

confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, family, freedom, grace, happy, heaven, memoir, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Stillness, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

If the sun where you rose today was even half the spectacle of mine.

Then, like me you’ve got cause to continue.

We were both in the presence of sublime.

There is joy on our horizons or for you, already, by this time.

God is with us.

On earth sometimes as it is, as it shall be for us.

In heaven.

Saying, notice now, ask of me what you’d like to see, trust and be attentive.

You will see.

Wait and see.

“And the ransomed of the Lord shall return and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭35:10‬ ‭ESV‬‬

31 Days, Freely – Comfort

confidence, contentment, Faith, grace, Labradors, memoir, mercy, Prayer, rest, Stillness, Trust, waiting, wonder

We had a splendid reunion! An easy afternoon and into the evening.

He ate the broccoli that fell from the counter and so, I gave him another floret or two, then three.

I sat with the Sunday paper.

He plopped his big ole self at my feet, his belly over one and then he nudged until I rested the other to then rub softly the place under his collar.

A long sigh, he was comfortable. He wasn’t mad at me at all.

Then, rather than run, we walked together and ended in the place he loves, up next to the fence, the open valley of field to sit.

I’d been away and he had waited, good dogs are that way, must surely know we will always return.

Won’t be gone too far for too long.

“Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort.”

‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭1:7‬ ‭ESV‬‬

And be at rest again at home and grateful to be greeted by such grace and favor.

Returning to mercy and the comfort of home, hope for us and our returning, hope that is unshaken.

31 Days, Freely – Hope

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, courage, Faith, family, grace, happy, memoir, Peace, Prayer, Trust, Vulnerability

The air, obviously different this morning, I walked as quietly as possible thinking my aunt was still sleeping.

The back door was open wide and I saw her nowhere. The laundry room, slightly lit by the light marking the dryer’s cycle and a shifting noise was ever faint.

I decided it must be a load of towels. I turned to start the coffee, turned back and there she was. Smiling and nodding at me, her hair all messy and loose and her hands already working, determined and sure.

“Well, hey.” she said, “I’ve gotten behind on my laundry.”

She smiled and added “get you some coffee” and so, I did.

I didn’t tell her I’d been looking for her, that I’d gone out on the patio and thought I might find her watering or working already in her yard.

I didn’t tell her how the sweetest aroma I’ve ever known caused me to stand still, surveying the impatiens, the begonia, the ferns, turning and tilting and trying to find the mysterious source.

We sat with our coffee and fig newtons and we caught up quietly.

And then I asked her what the scent was that captured me, the one so enveloping.

She asked me if I’d noticed that all the blooms are reaching out wider, brighter, more fully. They know the season’s about to change, she informed.

Then she told me that it was the ginger lilies who sent the morning scent my way.

“Must’ve been the slight breeze this morning, it’ll bring ’em right up to the porch.”

I looked over the wide green carpet of her sloping yard, way past the little house my grandma lived before and thought I’d never have figured it out had she not told me, the massive lilies, so far in the swampy distance, bordering the woods.

“Oh, yeah.” she added as we walked down to see, “these lilies live long, they’re strong, they keep holding on.”

Then we plundered around and she showed us the elephant ears she’d discovered and she took us around back to the tiny purple blooms running wild and free.

I thought about her love, her faith, her quiet hope and I watched her as we shared a current stressful worry or two.

She nodded again, folded her hands to pray and with no words or a prayer at all, we heard.

“Prayer and patience…”

and hope now too, I know she always hopes.

I want a wide and full hope like hers in my changing seasons, all stored up for now, being so very confident there will always be more.

Hope endures.

31 Days, Freely -Belong

Abuse Survivor, Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, daughters, Faith, family, grace, memoir, mercy, Redemption, rest, Stillness, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder, writing

The Spring before my daddy died, he planted potatoes. The air was cool and my children watched, their bottoms plopped down on the dirt, my daughter with her arms wrapped around her baby brother.

If you asked my daddy if he was a farmer he’d have said no because he wasn’t a farmer and the potatoes weren’t a necessary crop.

If being a farmer depended upon breaking up the soil, walking out the spaces between the slices of potatoes planted, well, yes he was a farmer.

He belonged among the farmers.

I woke up this morning thinking about the harvest, about the keeping at it to reap what I sow.

My daddy was meticulous about how the potatoes were planted.

Just a small plot of land my cousin wasn’t planning to use, next to my house, so I got to watch him stand over it, waiting for what was happening underneath.

I read this morning about perseverance, about persistence.

Thinking about this season my friend is calling our harvest, I sensed a sure stirring, a need to grow.

I’d been distracted, disgruntled, pulled away and pitiful, decided I was never gonna reap from all that I had sown.

Jesus told a story about seeds and what we do with them and how we get disenchanted with the idea of us making something grow.

We don’t stay with it, we let our hopes go.

He told of people who only stick with it for awhile or people who’d just toss their seeds toward the not broken up soil as if to say, that’s it now God, make it grow!

“And the ones on the rock are those who, when they hear the word, receive it with joy. But these have no root; they believe for a while, and in time of testing fall away. And as for what fell among the thorns, they are those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, and their fruit does not mature.”

‭‭Luke 8:13-14

I thought about my daddy and his potatoes, bothered that I couldn’t remember, did we go back to reap the harvest, dig up the little baby red potatoes? Did he get to see how well his last crop had grown, how abundant his harvest was that last year?

Jesus continues, explaining how we are made to flourish, lead others to flourishing.

“As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭8:15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

The soil was always good where my daddy planted his garden. He had an honest and good heart, he was patient with his potatoes.

Daddy belonged among the farmers, I believe.

Maybe I, among the writers, the planters, the sowers and the patient, holding fast to be mature believers.

31 Days, Freely -Share

Abuse Survivor, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, freedom, grace, kindness, memoir, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Trust, Uncategorized, Unity, Vulnerability, writing

This morning I’ll make a little video, less than a minute or so of Michelle sharing the story of our shelter, Nurture Home.

She smiled when I described the time she’d done this before, the way she spoke so smoothly like honey and her pauses and the slight tilt as she spoke in a way sharing like a sweet, sweet song.

I love the storytelling part of my work, hands down my favorite part, I abhor the budget, can’t stand the asking for money.

The asking, the putting oneself out there always comes with the risk of rejection.

Last night, I ran risky past sundown because I left the gym without ever going in. Checking email, there it was, another no, another rejection in a string of three.

I cranked my car, turned down the radio and said ok, ok, adjust your sails, you’re not out here in this big sea all alone.

I drove back home and planted pansies for my grandma then ran real hard with good solid songs in my ear.

Running from the dark, I decided and posted on Instagram. A friend commented and I shared what was causing my darkness. Her reply was so sublime!

“Yet it was kind of you to share my trouble.”

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:14‬ ‭ESV‬‬

She understood, she was so very kind.

In this great big world, we all have a story and a story to tell. Today, it’s a work story I’ll tell; but, it’s my life story too.

God placed me in this position for a purpose.

I’m so glad he lets me help to change some stories and then to tell them, hear them, celebrate them too!

And later, I’ll let go of my ideas and ideals for my writing. I could stop altogether or I could continue more surrendered and less striving.

I could remember, let go and let God and like my mama said, be the passenger, let God drive the train.

Telling my story, His way, His time and place.

To God be the glory.

Day 5 of 31 Days of UNimpressive Writing: Geese, Bluebirds and New Chances to Love

Children, courage, Faith, family, Motherhood, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

The geese were back this morning.

First time in days.

I turned to make my way back inside, stopping to gather fallen leaves and heard their approach.Their sound a celebration of the day, exuberant and joyous it seemed.

I held fragile leaves in my hand, turned towards the sounds of geese and joined in their flight, my mind there with them, moving forward, renewed and committed to the day.

 

The ground is soaked here,  covered in pine needles today. We were spared the damage of wind and flood, our yard simply evidence of rain, constant torrential showers.  photo 1I was thankful today for leafy, wind tousled and soaking wet ground.  Wet, muddy yard scattered with pretty color; my feet were planted in a level spot and I glanced towards the damp, steely sky.

 

My cousin called this morning and we talked of life, of children, of God.  We were getting carried away, consistent in our anguish, of things we can’t let go, things that frustrate us. We talked about the flood of our weekend and she shared her experience of Hurricane Katrina. This flood, Joaquin prompted storm, had both she and her husband reliving the trauma. I told her I’m very afraid of water and wonder if people will be found dead in their homes. She said “Most likely” and shared of homes ravaged by Katrina that were marked with an “X” to indicate a dead person inside.

We meandered back to the subject of our children then.

We understand why we’ve mothered the way we have; just don’t know why we keep going back there,

Trying to be the mother they’ve outgrown.

The mother that meets our need, not theirs.

We’re making progress though, beginning to think as God thinks of us, agreeing that the greatest desire of our lives has been to parent well, differently, unquestionably committed to our sons and daughters.

We have been and are good mothers. We know this.

Never occurred to me until just now, I thought to myself.  “I’ve parented well, absolutely wholeheartedly. Let God lead them now. ”

photo-8_kindlephoto-10073793

She got quiet, thinking, I assumed then excitedly announced  “There are bluebirds in my yard. The most beautiful bluebirds are just outside on my porch!”

“God is telling us to have hope”,  I said. ” He’s telling us to let go now, we’ve done our part, he’s ready to take it from here.”

They’ve left our nests; well-loved and knowing they are loved.

There are new, bright places for them to grow,  us too.

Loved well and loving well.

New places to grow

photo-9_kindlephoto-10185522

 

 

2014 in review – learning by doing what you believe you can

courage, Faith, family, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability
Walking in the clouds

Walking in the clouds

Last night, my friend Ray Visotski read about my waning confidence and advised simply,  “Just keep writing.”  A second comment came from David Kanigan, a resounding  three letters,  “Yes.” And so, I will.

This morning, I am thinking of my most recent Children’s sermon in which I challenged a handful of boys and girls to tell me something they were afraid to do.  One little boy described his zip line experiences …staring across a cable from a little perch, wanting to let go, but afraid.  He was happy to share how good it felt to take a chance, to be confident, his sweet face beaming as he recalled the challenge.

He believed he could accomplish what the guide told him he could.

I asked the children if they realized how afraid Mary was when she was told she would be Jesus’ mother.  I shared with them her doubts, fears, disbelief.

I told them of her encounter with Elizabeth who shared with her the one powerful truth that grounded her and led her on.

Blessed is the one who believes what the Lord has said will be accomplished. Luke 1:25

I am thinking this morning of this truth. Having just returned from a trip to the mountains on which my sister’s family and ours challenged ourselves on a hike, walked through waterfalls, ate good food, laughed and loved…All under the planning of my brother-in-law who was insistent and intentional in our 3 days being memorable.

He has the personality of a believer, a thinker, a risk-taker. He jokes about my deep thinking writing, yet instructs me to explore opportunities with my blog. He believes I can be a successful writer and artist. He believes I can accomplish more than hobby.

If I have the chance, I plan to ask him if what I believe of his journey towards his current success as a businessman and ingenious CEO was motivated by the one thing I am convinced of:

(S) He believed he could, so He did.

Here’s my summary of progress thus far in this journey of believing.

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 2,800 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 47 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Day 31: looking for good – refresh my path

Children, family, rest, Uncategorized, wonder

10151288849091203_kindlephoto-3632244We’re getting away today, my daughter and I.

A little place near the Blue Ridge mountains, just an overnight, wish it could be more, but going with the flow.

Connect with God, laugh, talk, eat, shop, hike a short little hike maybe then dinner, movie in our tiny little cabin warmed by a fire.

Almost changed my mind, so much to do at home, not worth it for one day. Other things in need of my dollars, Christmas soon, I need new clothes.

College for Austin looming. Same old Saturday, laundry, groceries, the habitual mundane, moaning as I go.

But we’re leaving. Not far, just different. Sight unseen, tiny little mountain town.

Hills, autumn leaves, antiques, art, big bathtub and fireplace.

Bags packed, loosely planned, leaving this morning…for a “mommy trip” with my daughter, Heather Analise.

Day 30: looking for good – what good will come

courage, Faith, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability
Truth

Truth

Scrolling through my blog as I finish up this 31 day challenge, I feel accomplished regardless of who has read, commented, liked or followed.  I’m close to 100.

I didn’t think I’d go this far.

Clearly, I’m one of multitudes who love words and expression.

Looking closely, more closely than necessary at my life, my faith, my fears and then sharing

Writing simply, just in case somebody somewhere needs to know they are not alone, is an oddly beautiful experience, a gift.

My journey, difficult.  More difficult than many, less than some.  Everyone has some sorrow, some secret.

My experiences, traumatic…Some reckless mistakes down paths that went too far and had locked doors, keys hidden.

But, my story is of good that comes despite two steps forward, three back tug of war with self-control vs. faith, hope, and trust.

Why on earth would I write about struggle, pain, sadness, longing for different as a child, still burdened with heavy load?

How could I not?

Praying friends, say a prayer as I open the closed doors of my past to share tiny bits of my damaged past but now with  hallelujah and amen, because you should know  “What good will come”…what good has come!

This week, a verse found, resonated… circled, underlined with “Memoir” penciled in the margin.

You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing. You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy, so that I might sing praises to You and not be silent.  Psalm 30:11