#fmf

Closer to Love

bravery, Children, courage, Faith, family, grace, Motherhood, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Stillness, Teaching, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder

I wonder if your first waking thoughts are placed there mid sleeping and waking by God as His way to say,

“Begin again, let’s go!

Follow my lead, follow your leader.

Follow your heart, your soul.”

I woke, thrilled to have slept past 7 and kept my eyes closed for a few minutes.

Did not reach for my phone.

I thought and thought again,

“Stop looking for likes.”

Then wrote it down, hoping it more deeply would sink in.

I’ve just spent almost an hour in between making breakfast and coffee and conversation about new cars with my husband, tracking down which blog post was most “liked”.

It was in 2014 and it was entitled “not knowing”. It was about my children and God and well, being okay with not knowing.

Stats show which day is best, which theme more enticing and I suppose which posts are so good that people click the little star that says “like”.

Actually, I don’t have a whole lot of “likes”. I do have a lots of views and viewers and some commenters who I always thank “for reading my words” and mean it, sincerely.

I was curious, then got weary of discerning my “likers” based on my stats.

What I saw was my life since 2014, I saw God’s guiding, his pulling me from the ditch of doubt, His rescuing me before I fall too far from the pit of pride and pedestal.

So, I’m more settled, less seeking and more set on seeing me as God sees me and

“likes” me.

Prayerful, this morning in my journal about writing for “Daughters of the Deep” and for Lisa Brittain’s “Saturday Shares” and other places my soul feels led and prompted by prayer and the Holy Spirit.

Places and people who I’d never encounter were it not for words and God, women like Nan Jones, women who write and women who don’t write; but, surely are praying. I am worried other making a list, it’s so vast, I’d surely forget one or two or three who make up my “community”.

This morning I read from My Utmost for His Highest and the thoughts are lingering and lined up, as did the other words and verses established for today.

I’m getting closer every day to the me God sees.

Not yet arrived, surely on my way though.

Noticing and embracing words like these, believing waking thoughts as God’s instruction and loving affirmation.

As you journey with God, the only thing He intends to be clear is the way He deals with your soul.

My Utmost for His Highest devotion

Closer to love.

Closer to God and speaking more bravely.

Two times last week, I believe my words came as a surprise to others (and me).

I’m so glad God brought you into my life.

Me, through God

The first time, a crowded restaurant and as a goodbye to our unplanned encounter.

The second, a parking lot after “so happy to run into you” send off.

Both times, I was sure in my saying so and both times, the ones who were with me, their smiles spread wide as the sky and we parted, all of us thinking of God.

So, if you’re reading this,

I’m so glad brought you into my life. So happy He brought us both here. me

Light Comes Through

Faith, grace, Prayer, Salvation, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I’m horrible at writing for only five minutes. (I believe she was right, out of the blue she told me to “focus on the bigger thing, Lisa…the story that is supposed to be written, yours!” ) I like the idea of responding to a suggested prompt, waiting to see what God might have me say. It’s an exercise, skills building, practice.

So, Five Minute Friday’s prompt today…here is where you led me:

This morning, I’m recording what I’m beginning to see come through. I’m not concerned over what I’m not sure of yet.

The light just enough for now, more breathtaking than all at once, for sure.

I should keep a record of how things come true, come through when I take my thoughts elsewhere.

Big, big revelations about my path and tiny little, sweet surprises that if I’d seen my face in a mirror, I’m quite sure it held a glow.

How a bold statement from an honest soul had been tucked away festering in my place of what if, maybe.

In the back of my mind.

The place where those thoughts I manipulate, the ones compromised by past and the ones trying to shine like a pretty twinkle of light longing for unveiling.

Yep, they are all there together.

This morning, I journaled two sentences from a lengthy devotional, pulling out the ones for me.

Not a single one of your thoughts escapes God’s notice.

The place I keep deeply covered, the longings for one thing or another.

They come to light when I let them, on their own.

There’s a lesson here. One I should know by now. We can’t hold faith, can’t see it or hear it.

Cannot manipulate or mold into what we want.

It resides in the recesses.

Then when it pleases, it shows itself in beautiful or bold surprises.

And though I’m giddy sometimes over the surprise of God’s notice and timing, I still go back to depending on me and my part in it all.

When did I forget that you’ve always been the King of the world? Natalie Grant

The hidden things are of God. The secrets revealed in time not mine.

Were it not so I’d do nothing but strive, search, yearn, push and pout.

Instead, maybe, no…Yes! I’ll hold on longer this time to the surprises that are never surprises at all. Yes, I will depend on your knowing.

A phone call you never expected, an answer to your fears on the other end or just a voice, saying everything is okay.

“Faith shows the reality of what we hope for; it is the evidence of things we cannot see.”

‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭11:1‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Work and Life

Children, Faith, family, grace, Motherhood, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I’m not working today, at least in not my paid position.

I’ll be welcoming travelers, refugees from the big storm, Irma.

I’ve planned it out, started last night.

The guest room comforter all fresh and clean, the bed the Labrador loves will need to be shared.

But, as soon as I’m done here in this morning spot, there will be more work done.

My sister and her family are evacuating here. My home is humble, but it will welcome them. My sweet, wise cousin said she wants to be with me because my house feels like Faith.

I really loved that thought.

So, in just a few, I’ll change from pajamas to work clothes and get going as planned, committed to finish by noon.

My prayer, the prayer of the quiet one, not so great at all things hospitable:

Lord, I pray you prepare my heart and from my heart flows nothing but love without reservation or expectation.

I meet needs everyday, or if I’m honest I just oversee the meeting of them. This is my job. Today, my work will be “home” work and opportunity to meet the need of family.

Giving, not receiving, the example of Jesus.

“And I have been a constant example of how you can help those in need by working hard. You should remember the words of the Lord Jesus: ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’ ”

‭‭Acts of the Apostles‬ ‭20:35‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Then, the mental list becomes to do:

Change linens

Vacuum sofas

Vacuum house (oh, the shedding of the Labrador!!!)

Clean bathrooms

Dust

Move dead plants from the pool

My house is humble with places of my heart all over it.

It is. I long for better sometimes, but then I work to be happy with my best.

Committed to my plan, I begin to prepare my place.

A refuge from storm, I pray, today.

And I do believe at the end of the day or in the midst of a storm, if my humble house is clean most anything is just a tiny bit better.

Linking up to write on the prompt of “work”.

http://fiveminutefriday.com/2017/09/07/five-minute-friday-link-up-work/

View from Above

bravery, courage, Faith, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

Less than a few days ago, I read about the meaning of the times that wake us up from sleep. The 3:00 a.m to 4:00 or 5 is symbolic of a word, a message, a spiritual point needing our attention.

God is speaking, His view, from above.

This morning I dreamt of a deep and grey, muddy ocean, the water becoming wider and the shore, a distant angle I couldn’t decide how I’d reach, why it continued to grow more narrow.

I stood searching, one side and the other, the space before me and all around and I wondered might I finally drown.

Instead, I began to swim.

I rose up heavy because of Saturday morning and prayed bedside;

“God, help me pay attention today.”

Because like Samuel as a child, I question whether it’s you.

“So he said to Samuel, “Go and lie down again, and if someone calls again, say, ‘Speak, Lord, your servant is listening.”

‭‭1 Samuel‬ ‭3:9‬ ‭NLT‬‬

My morning dream, a deep ocean, an elusive shore, deciding to swim.

Linking up with other writers prompted by the word “Speak”

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.

Five Minute Friday: Future

bravery, Faith, grace, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Writing for five minutes, hoping to get it right, to not let age and deficits in tech savvy cause me to abandon the five minute rule and say “oh well!”

Here go thoughts on future and the year I named “breakthrough” feeling only like stepping towards if not just peeking in. 


I don’t lay out my clothes and don’t shop by grocery list planned ahead for meals. 

I’m not sure what I’ll have as mood to match my blouse, my shoes, my day. 

I can’t think far enough ahead to say oh, a roast on Sunday or a ham or oh, well, I’ll just do spaghetti. 

And worklife requires such things, projections, successions and sustainability.

I figure my clothes and meals can at least not be confined to demands of planning.

Now, as far as my future, I do best to live daily and am horrible at goal setting, writing, painting and all. 

I’ve been hearing the navigational command and I’m veering that way; but, more like a wanderer than a traveling soul headed towards a destination.

“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 ‭30:21‬ ‭ESV‬‬

So, thank you Friday prompt for prompting this self-examination. 

I need an itinerary for my future, I’ve haphazardly gone without with only vague sense of direction far too long. 

I’ll get focused on future, lest I discard the things I believe God keeps nudging me towards. 

‘Cause I heard about faith in a new way last week, too. 

It’s not emotion, it’s motion. 

It’s evidence, action, not just talk or thought. 

Unjumbled

courage, Faith, grace, praise, Prayer, rest, Uncategorized

I’m writing, attempting to limit my world and words  to five minutes worth. I woke with thoughts carried from the day before and the prompt is “Breathe”.  Here I go.

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There must be more of this, to sit with quiet, to lie with rain. There must be more of this serene.

I thought of being jumbled yesterday, of the days’ comingling  of its junk with my good.

I shared with another, “I don’t believe we remember to think for ourselves anymore…everything seems so decided for us, we limit ourselves like an choosing to take the test with multiple choice, guessing answers a, b, c, rather than the essay question, our voice and words.

We get drawn in to excitement or furor and we become a member of a club that intices our membership through big noisy  words and characters.

Leaving us to decide, is this loop one I’m in?  Surely. I should jump right in.

I’m either captivated or entranced by the seemingly perfect pursuits of others.

until I remember where I’m standing, where I’m sitting and I pause.

I breathe the breath of peace of mind.

i sit with art, words or Bible and I am drawn to listen. Birds, an owl, the dog’s sigh.

But,  I get torn on occasion  with the jumbledness of should, could,oppose, support, despise, adore, follow along or

rest where your mind has you, has brought you.

Breathe, pause, stay.

You are here in this place I have you. Stay.

You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, that my glory may sing your praise and not keep silent. Psalm 30:11

Linking up with Kate Motaung for Five Minute Friday http://katemotaung.com/2017/02/02/five-minute-friday-breathe-lisa-jo-baker/

Mail: prompt for five minutes of writing

Faith, grace, Prayer, Trust, Uncategorized
image

Black pen, quiet morning, and thoughts on God’s call for my life

Every morning I write myself a letter. I fill margins with wise words, encouragement and deploring of God submissions.

I’d like to believe and since faith is believing what I can’t see but, knowing it true somehow…

that God sees my journal and like the sound of the mailman’s truck pausing three houses down, stopping next door and

making its way out front; He hears and bends to gather my mail.

Oh,  Lisa is praying, let me turn to open her letter. Let me read of her gratitude and consider her needs.

Let me pause to hear her heart and lead her to my reply as she opens my love letter, my word.

image

http://katemotaung.com/2016/10/13/five-minute-friday-mail/

Morning, a lingering

Faith, grace, praise, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

 

If morning were all day and filtered into evening

I may be a little different.

IMG_1195_kindlephoto-4925811

Morning still

My maybe might be sure.

My perhaps would be probably.

I’d be more apt to linger, content in unfolding of day.

My  “No’s”  might be  more steady.

My “Yes’s” more enthused.

My failures  be more misunderstandings than mistakes.

If morning lingered longer

I’d wear the color of patience on my smile.

Subtle, pretty and just a hint of shine like a peachy lip

My pauses be more often, intentional in exchange

My words more heart than  hurry.

Mornings like today, moved more slowly towards task and rested in time for contemplation.

The sky was more dusk than dawn.

Rain coming, not here yet.

Questioning the time of day…is it earlier than I thought?

Could I have a little more early morn?

Oh, good! Thank you Lord, for mornings lasting longer.

The sky reflective of rest, not at all impatient to commence.

Patient,  satisfied and content for whatever may be.

Oh, to the linger a little longer in the mindfulness of morning time.

Thus, prepared for the unfolding of day.

 

“Restlessness and impatience change nothing except our peace and joy. Peace does not dwell in outward things, but in the heart prepared to wait trustfully and quietly on him who has all things safely in his hands.”  Elisabeth Elliot

 

http://katemotaung.com/five-minute-friday/

happy slumber

Children, family, Motherhood, rest, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder
Slumbering

Slumbering

Last year this time, I headed home down ice abused streets.

Glancing towards windows as I drove.

Hoping for homes illuminated by the magic of electricity.

Ice ravaged our trees, our streets, tested our Southern spirits.

Walking into my den, I’m greeted by a den floor covered in mattresses.

Every blanket, quilt, afghan, cover or spread.

Beautifully, tidy and pretty.

My daughter has made our beds…and I am greeted with love and happy colors.

Everyone’s recalling the storm of 2014.

And I, this morning, in the quiet of early am cherishing this…

The time we slumbered together next to the fire.

When Heather made the beds.

Remembering now, my eyes moisten from the sweetness.

The happy place in the storm.

The happy slumber.