#31daysofwriting

Find Rest

Art, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, grace, Holy Spirit, Prayer, Redemption, Salvation, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom, wonder, writing

I designed a notecard from a watercolor. The cover is an abstract landscape with soft coral, blue, earthy green and a touch of thick gold.

My technique has been described as flowing, comforting and sometimes subtle, others vivid, the colors.

I like to say it’s “just giving and taking away”.

Inside the card are three words

“Return to rest.”

Today, the writing prompt is “effort”.

I thought of how grace isn’t effort based, us being the recipient of this gift, but relationship with God often asks us to continue seriously, our seeking and knowing more fully.

Yesterday, I stood outside and opened my palm and prayed.

I asked God to help me sense His Spirit, develop such a closeness to Jesus in me that I hear His gentle voice

That I heed His teaching, am sure of my direction.

That I give and take away in the same way that He does. In this effort, not a hopeful change; but in this serious attempt I will better know my Savior.

I will better know what to pursue and what to let fade away.

May my greatest effort not be a blank canvas that invites color, words spoken or on a page.

May my most important effort be to know my God better and in this way

Know peace. Know rest.

Return to rest.

“Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭91:1‬ ‭NLT‬‬

(Notecards and other art available at http://www.lisaannetindal.me )

Toward The New Day

bravery, confidence, courage, depression, Faith, hope, mercy, Prayer, Stillness, Vulnerability, wisdom

But, as for me, it is good to be near God. Psalm 73:28

Morning Spot

Changing my morning spot with the season means I’m facing the morning sun. I’m not able to linger as long. I’m motivated to move forward, toward the new day, the give and take back cycle of surrendering its way to God’s control.

The longer I stay, the more unavoidable is the glare. My face looks towards my journal, the three words on focus.

Holiness

Health

Change

Waking today, to a one step forward and three back kinda feel.

So, I ask simply for more grace.

Look up again, the sunlight now dappled through the pines.

I pray.

Turn my face towards the sun, Lord. Empower me to let the shadows fade away. All knowing, Father, you are good and only do good. Settle my mind and heart on this truth.

“The day is yours, and yours also the night; you established the sun and moon.”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭74:16‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Becoming Them, Becoming You

Art, bravery, Children, contentment, courage, depression, Faith, family, memoir, painting, Trust, Vulnerability, wisdom

“And though the Lord give you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, yet your Teacher will not hide himself anymore, but your eyes shall see your Teacher. And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it,” when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30:20-21‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Calling Myself an Artist

“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”

I sketched an oak tree years ago, green grass water colored and a blue sky with the words above added in a sort of filigree.

I worked for the Department of Family and Children Services aka DFACS aka The Welfare.

I gave this sketch to my first real boss, the County Director back then, thirty something years ago.

Something in me has always understood the something in others that causes harmful, negative, risky behaviors.

Causes giving up or succeeding.

And so, I had work to do, very hard work, but I tried to be kind.

Because, I’m certain every single person in the world is battling something.

Many times it’s something they’re hoping to outgrow or to not hand down to their children.

As I age, I’m beginning to see the battle of becoming, either fear of what I may become or a greater fear of what I will not.

I knew a woman once who should’ve been a chef. Her meals were spread out like royalty when family came on Sunday. She retired from professional management type work and she immersed herself in cooking. She became the cook at a little campground type place where men shot dove. The tips were good, the encouraging compliments invaluable. She was on top of the world and then, she just couldn’t or decided she couldn’t anymore.

Sometimes, I’m asked in these days of either anxious anger or languid depression, how I stay motivated, how I keep painting, I wish I could be like you, have a calling and purpose.

And I’m honest. I say,

I’ve seen what happens when you stop doing what feeds your soul. I’ve seen how quickly you don’t leave your house, grow weak and weary and weaker and worn out.

I’ve seen how becoming what you longed to be only lasts for a minute. I’ve seen how one sweet hope that gets stolen or is forced to be given up because of hardship or loss can break a strong soul.

I keep painting because like probably you, I want to become the mama who lived life fully not the one who decided she couldn’t keep on.

Feed your soul. Cook. Write. Paint. Sing. Dance. Plant your roses.

Every bit of you is the beauty you’re becoming.

The battle we all fight, the hard one?

The battle not to let ourselves quit, not to let our hopes go.

Continue and believe.

Grace Like Change

contentment, courage, Faith, grace, Vulnerability, writing

Years ago, a novice at blogging and a dreamer of sorts, I participated in 31 days of writing in October. Here I am on the 2nd of October giving myself grace and deciding one day late is okay as long as you simply write. That grace towards myself is a decision towards change.

not “sun” flowers

From my kitchen window I see the geraniums have given up and the thick brittle stalks with yellow flowers are going crazy again. Reaching way up like tiny trees they’ll stand tall until they can’t anymore.

One already laying across the grass, soon others will bend and the path towards my sitting spot will be a maze of these yellow flowers that are not sunflowers, only a cousin of them.

Last year, and years before I stepped outside in a huff and I’d stomp on the branches or move through them loudly as if it was my assignment to destroy the nuisance of a late summer flower gone crazy.

Today, I let them be, these all of a sudden crazy come back every September weeds. (I do believe they’re invasive weeds.)

I’ll not protest the lingering into November dead on the bottom flowers with the happy yellow tops that just won’t give up.

I’ll watch them stay. I’ll allow them their season. I will be content in considering there must be a reason they linger.

I’ll respond with grace. True, the flowers won’t know. My husband likely won’t notice.

But, grace, the giving of it is a practice. Maybe a way to embrace it.

Either way it’s change.

This grace that becomes like breathing, natural and all over the place.

Grace like flowers not giving up. Grace is change.

I’m here for it.

Today’s prompt?

Content. I’m content in the grace of change.

“But godliness with contentment is great gain,”
‭‭1 Timothy‬ ‭6:6‬ ‭ESV‬‬

31 Days, Freely: Day One

Abuse Survivor, Angels, Art, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, love, memoir, mercy, painting, Prayer, Redemption, Salvation, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

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Day 1, Story

“even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me.”

‭‭Psalm‬ ‭139:10‬ ‭ESV‬‬

A year or so ago, my story was not the same. It was brave and descriptive and overall, the content served a purpose.

It told a few things readers might relate to, others unaware might be drawn to know more. It was about me and it was going to be about them.

Them, being the ones who brought me harm, stifled my self-confidence, my self-awareness, and my soul truly for a long time.

It would be about some who turned shielded eyes to say they’d not known, turned from my distress saying that must be where she wanted to go.

It was a hopeless story pretending to portray hope and may have caused hurt to a few.

Not necessarily an expose’, just would have thrown a lot of “shade” on a select more than few.

Today, I’m beginning 31 Days of writing. In October, along with the Five Minute Friday community, I’ll write using a prompt, today’s is “story”.

This is my story now.

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Healed and Hopeful

The story I’m choosing, the one that is hopeful and intentional and is led closely by my Father, God.

By my Savior, Jesus and the Spirit saying choose this new way.

  • I turned my eyes from the piece about the candidate and his high school buddies and what he really meant by what he wrote in the yearbook. I turned my attention away. Because last week the news and the media’s social conversation starters stirred up three nights of nightmares just as real as the days before. For a split second, I remembered clearly then turned my thoughts from those days, those nights.
  • I didn’t contribute to the hashtag conversation on why I didn’t report. Even after so many strong women were, it has no bearing on me now, the conversations about before.
  • I love my friend who suggested we all change our Facebook profile pic to blacked out squares. It is supposed to show men what the world would be like without women. Instead, I painted for three hours, a piece not up for sale. It occurred to me to black out my face on Facebook would mean darkness, fear, hiding. Decided I’d rather show God’s glory in me and the women I have around me. My profile pic is my painting.
  • I planned to write “lightly” 31 Days and changed my theme.  I’ll be writing “freely” knowing full well there is still slavery all around. Women who are hurting and angry and fired up and men who were who they were when they scoffed over the good old days with girls. They’re here and real. Their eyes may land here and I may never know their reaction to my choice to not join in. My choice that seems unpopular by the world’s take on this stirring up of women who will not stay silent. I choose silence because I know silence is God’s will for me staying well.

 

My story is freedom.

I’m sticking with it, my “freedom story”, the colors of my Bible are my Bible, of my life.

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The Colors of My Bible

Healed and hopeful because of knowledge, joy, mercy, patience, love, grace, and understanding. It’s too much a burden to go back and begin carrying my hurt around again, too heavy a yoke of sad slavery.

“For freedom, Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.”

‭‭Galatians‬ ‭5:1‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Father, if there are readers still reeling from trauma or reminded of trauma and feeling pulled back into fear, I pray you lead them to hope and that they find counseling specific to trauma recovery. I pray they know you are near and that persistence towards healing not the pursuit of patterns that cause us to stay focused on before is your desire. I pray you will remind them and me of the woman at the well, the woman who stood before men who were ready to cast stones. She watched them all drop to the ground as Jesus told her she was free, now go and remember this day no more. I pray you will remind us that fear is not from you, only hope. That those deserving of condemnation will surely be handled by You on our behalf. 

Because of mercy,

Amen

Stay tuned, or better yet, join in. Tomorrow, Day 2 is prompted by “afraid”

Day 6 of 31 Days of UNimpressive Writing: writing from heart – how things happen

courage, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

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Afternoon art therapy. Some of my paintings will be in the new shop downtown, so this is scary for me because it’s been a dream for years. I hope I don’t chicken out. If you have that “thing” you love and it loves you back it’s easier to keep it safe than show it off.

This was my instagram caption on the day I decided to paint and to “do the thing I must do that I thought I could not do.”

Because if you love something so much it’s a treasure, your soul’s salve,  you just don’t want to run the risk of tainting that relationship, that charm you hold close.

You know, the thing that’s yours and yours alone, so you keep it close, and comfortable and safe.

It all started with a conversation about hanging art.  I said casually, “I paint” which led to the owner of a new shop asking to see my work.  So, I took  the next step towards that must do thing, went home and began to paint.

Painted for four hours straight on a misty Saturday,

Went back with ready to hang pieces, given names that she called stories.  The story part, I loved the most.

Yesterday,  Heather called to say  “Guess what happened! I came to the shop to see your paintings and you had just sold one, the owner was getting ready to call you.  It was the Isle of Palms painting.” Isle of Palms

Less than two hours earlier I told my cousin “I sort of regret taking them.”  I had already convinced myself that I’d end up bringing them back home and my walls would be even more covered with my art.  My house is full of art.

They’d be safe again, from critique, from judgement, from wondering  “How on earth I could have thought of myself as an artist? ”

“But, it’s only been a week, I shouldn’t give up yet.” I said.

Here’s how things can happen.

You do something you’ve been afraid to do.

You’re vulnerable enough to be brave enough to allow your treasure to be seen.

You expose your heart’s desire to the world,  because of dreams and thoughts of why not and you move closer towards confidence that seeks no validation.

You sell one piece of art, a painting called  “Letting Go – Isle of Palms”.

You decide to paint again, before you decide it’s too scary.

To do that “must do thing” because you fear you will again think you cannot.

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