#fmf

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”

Potentially

Abuse Survivor, Angels, Art, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, Faith, fear, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, memoir, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Salvation, Serving, Trust, Uncategorized, waiting, wonder, writing

The idea of God’s mercy never-ending lining up with the potential He sees in me is almost too much to take in.

I put potential in a corner, my pattern of hoping not to be a bother, praying not be noticed, doing what I learned to believe was my role, to be content, to never need more than just enough…

Potential is a mystery some days, a misnomer, how could it be for me?

An inaccurate description, uncertain pursuit.

It takes a while to believe in it. I have to hear, read it in God’s word and get little glimpses of it when I least expect.

Yesterday, I heard a radio pastor remind me that I have no clue all that God will enable me to do if I simply choose to believe and continue with Him.

A conversation immediately clicked like a light, the realization of something God is making possible for me through an exchange with another I remembered.

A second encounter, a stranger saw my art and introduced an idea I’d never thought, possibly I’ll pursue.

And a third, I was intrigued by a new mindset in fundraising for our struggling non-profit. Just a slight change in wording, if businesses are for profit, we should be calling our programs “for purpose”, taking the “non” completely out the equation and mindset.

I assure you, this was not expected!

Clarity

Potential

Mercy, all lining up!

“Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known.”

‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭33:3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

His mercy never ends and it triumphs judgment.

I hear more clearly now as He says

“Oh no…don’t you believe the lie that you’re not able, not worthy, that there’s no potential in you. Look around, look to me, you’ll see little by little and then occasionally more clearly.

Your potential is great. Remember my mercy towards you, there’s a reason it never ends, there’s so much more for you to know, to experience, to contribute. I made you, I should know.”

linking up with others, prompted by potential here: Five Minute Friday

Joy, Complete

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Faith, freedom, grace, memoir, Peace, Redemption, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder, writing

I don’t typically have tea and certainly not when it’s still so hot here. The air conditioner not working so great in my office and a deadline looming on top of disappointing decisions, I decided on tea.

I was lingering over an encounter from earlier and the nearness of our conversation making both of our disclosures so very palpable.

I wished I had a pretty cup, I’ll fix that tomorrow, heated the water anyway and washed the Christmas mug.

Opened the little envelope and understood.

Understood why I chose to have tea, the message I needed God knew. His love for me is unlimited, His ideas and plans for me are incomplete.

I have time still, no limits.

Can you imagine how differently God sees you than you most of the time see yourself?

I start and stop things because I can’t imagine the shame of not finishing so I’d just as soon not begin.

Just as soon settle for the label of just a dreamer over an accomplished doer.

I don’t think that is God’s desire, that we decide to derail His plans for us or that we doubt the possibility of their completion.

The three Books of John are brief, 2nd John having only one chapter, 13 verses.

He wrote letters, compelling them to walk in love and the chapter ended with him saying, I’m leaving you with these guidelines; but, I’m coming now to sit with you, to be with you, to look you in the eye, because I want to be sure you understand, want to be sure that your joy will be fully and amazingly complete.

“Though I have much to write to you, I would rather not use paper and ink. Instead, I hope to come to you and talk face to face, so that our joy may be complete.”

‭‭2 John‬ ‭1:12‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I don’t think he wanted them to take lightly all of the goodness of God, the way to live fully.

I wonder if he’d struggled too to imagine a life complete and he “got it” and wanted to tell them all “you got this too…with God, the possibilities are unlimited! Believe and your joy will be complete.”

Your joy will be consistent, wait and see, you will see redemption this side of Heaven.

Your joy can be complete.

Linking up with others on the prompt from Kate Motaung “complete” as she writes about 7 years and her joy over recording her mom’s passing in her beautiful memoir, A Place to Land. I understand, Kate. I understand.

http://fiveminutefriday.com/2018/09/20/fmf-link-up-complete/

Understanding Alone

Abuse Survivor, Angels, bravery, confidence, contentment, freedom, grace, love, mercy, Peace, rest, Stillness, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder

God is in the midst of her…Psalm 46:5

You may know the quote, the one about being courageous enough to grow up and be who you are.

The labels and descriptions you may have spent the bulk of your life trying to prove wrong won’t be thrown off, won’t allow your discarding.

For they know they belong.

You’re not aloof, you just understand more clearly than others maybe, the longing for and gift of alone.

You are finally you, and okay more now than then with your understanding of alone.

My son in law uses an expression quite often that makes me smile when he gets it slightly wrong.

“To each is love, Miss Lisa” , he’ll remind me when we’re noticing people who don’t look, act or talk the same as us.

Maybe he’s right, maybe to each of us “it is our own” and for each us to be here all crowded together, it is love that is required.

I dislike crowds. Some don’t believe me. Speaking in public comes with the territory of my work. Facing crowds with half-hearted expressions and faces to talk about hard things my heart beats for, is hard for me.

When I’m done, I retreat, I long to be hidden, wish I could sit in silence.

I need to be alone.

You know the story about the sheep that Jesus told the disciples in John, 10?

“And I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.”

‭‭John‬ ‭10:16‬ ‭ESV‬‬

If I were a sheep I’d be the one close enough to the fold and keenly listening to be sure I didn’t get separated.

I’m the one Jesus keeps his eye on, knowing my need not to be sort of alone, but still close enough to know His love.

I’m the one often mistaken for aloof, sweet little “shy” one, the childhood description that stuck.

The one in the midst of the gathering either making awkward conversation or biding time until I can again be alone.

“To each is love.”

To each of us quiet sheep following our shepherd but lingering on the edge of the crowded and maybe boisterous crowd, to each of us too, is His love.

“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand.”

‭‭John‬ ‭10:27-28‬ ‭ESV‬‬

We feel safer in our aloneness, quiet in our quiet places.

We hear our shepherd more clearly when we’re not amongst all the others, competitive or compelling the crowd might be, good crowd or just noisy crowd.

We know where we long to be. So does He.

Linking up, prompted by the word “crowd” with others for Five Minute Friday.

A Loyal Peace

Abuse Survivor, bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, doubt, Forgiveness, freedom, grace, happy, heaven, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Stillness, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

He restores my soul.

A grassy hill, a sloping field sits in front of our house. Occasionally, when it cools down with a crisp sharp change, a lone deer will stand and stare.

I imagine it sometimes more of a pretty meadow and I love to picture a flock of fat fuzzy sheep gathered together, content in their position.

I read this morning of our all-knowing God, His knowing us completely, our good things and our struggles.

I thought of Him as a shepherd and imagined one sheep who had found a solitary corner, separate from the rest.

One might think illness, pregnant with a baby lamb or some limitation causing it to stay back, to retreat.

Like a sheep all alone on purpose, I’m prone to retreat. Sometimes to rest my mind, filter out the excess. Sometimes healthy or something else.

Other times the cause is remorse, sometimes insecurity, sometimes shame, or uncertainty.

I learned long ago to find a corner and to sit with it all, wanting someone to notice or praying no one noticed at all.

Until I convinced myself to get up and carry on.

We have a shepherd who is loyal, not going to leave us behind or desire that we sulk off separate from rest.

God sees our good. He also sees our not good. Our emotions and negative names we give ourselves are just as troubling to Him as our sin, I believe.

Were we able to audibly hear Him calling our name, saying “Come here, come out from that corner!”

We’d hear him say, I imagine, “I give you safety not fear. I created you to be confident, not afraid, I will equip you to do great things, don’t be insecure. Remorse is not required of you.

You are forgiven.”

Then He might tell me a story or a few of them about others like me who got lost and were found and found again.

And if this were so, I imagine there would be an embrace and perhaps, He would say:

“Stay with me. Stay longer this time, Lisa Anne.

Everything I did and have done. It is for you, for you to follow, fully believing.

I am loyal, your loyal shepherd.

I don’t see your struggles the way you believe I do, I see them simply as not meant for you. I see you meant for more. This is why I am loyal, why I gave my life for your peace.”

But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.

All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned-every one-to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all. – Isaiah 53:5-6

 

This post was prompted by the Five Minute Friday community, Kate gave us the word loyal and like most times, I’m sure I took more than five minutes to finish, still, I am linking up with others. Kate Motaung writes about the loyalty she observed while in Africa. Read here: Loyal

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Happy Way of Life #14

bravery, confidence, contentment, courage, grace, memoir, mercy, praise, Redemption, Stillness, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

Thinking today about choosing rightly, remembering good things that have proven to be good for me.

You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, – Psalm 30:11

New thing, “by and by” moments of celebrations…anniversaries.

Two months ago, I saw the good results of good food, good efforts in preparation and I’m staying close to that, close to that good health.
Deciding to learn to run and wondering now why I waited so long and why I forgot God made it possible all along…
Last night I did a new thing. I ran on a treadmill. Afraid before that I’d fall off, I feigned clumsiness as my reason. A big deal for me.
There’s really nothing like the momentous joy of doing something you decided you could not do.
Moment by moment, my feet in unison, my happy steps in rhythmic bounce.

an·ni·ver·sa·ry

/ˌanəˈvərs(ə)rē/

noun

1.the date on which an event took place in a previous year

Writing on the prompt “Anniversary”, I found no words on love or marriage or recall of loss or season or celebration marked.

I’ve not a clue what was going on last year on this day.

I’m more concerned with momentous occasions, moments of my life that show me I should continue.

I do life best lately,  “momentarily”.

img_6008Like taking a moment to prepare breakfast for my Friday morning desk, I am doing more things for my better than I have ever done before.

Just fry up some bacon, scramble some eggs, grab an avocado from the pretty bowl and then arrange it all on the scalloped edge paper plate, flimsy but fancy.

Sit with music filling the aloneness of your office and be happy, be happy in just the moment, the moment of your choosing “right healthy” food.

Remembering when you saw the church sign that kept telling you at the moment your running late car sped past, “Don’t go back to the place God delivered you from.”

The words that amounted to a moment only, but over time, so timely.

Now, the same route and the third day so far, same sort of moment; yet, different.

The church sign has changed.

“Stay close to God and you will never be the same.”

Moment by moment, every one sort of a joyous recall of choices well chosen, close as possible staying close to God.

Momentary living, my Happy Way of Life.

Surrounding myself with wisdom, wisdom like a quote push pinned to my wall, takes less than a moment to read, to remember, to believe.

I’m taking it all in, storing them up, counting them as joy rather than sorrow.

Putting them all together in a book I’d call “mercy stories”.

You can’t imagine the number of them.

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Deciding to call myself “writer and artist”, after all.

Sort of a momentous decision.

For me.

Rambling on and on I know, and way more than five minutes and not much at all about “Anniversary”.

It can be hard to follow my conversation, I know.

Sentence or comma, moment or hour, every second, I’m making ’em count now.

Maybe I’ll look back and recall though, the day I changed my ways and decided to live “momentarily”, a momentous anniversary it shall be.

Jesus Made 13

bravery, confidence, courage, doubt, Faith, grace, mercy, Peace, praise, Prayer, Redemption, Salvation, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I saw the suggested “thinking point”, the prompt and I thought of the chosen twelve along with the one different, Jesus, 13 an odd number, odd man out you might say.

The shaker up of things, the confronter of issues needing confronting, the consistent comforter, healer, setting himself to the side rather than on a mighty place of notice.

12, he chose to be “fishers of men”, observers of sorrow, to travel by foot, by boat, by His side.

Peter, Andrew, Matthew (Levi), John (brother of James) Phillip, Bartholomew, Thomas, Judas, James, Thaddeus, James (the younger), Simon

12 who were the imperfect yet willing.

12 who had no idea what they were in for.

12 who were not untainted by personal flaws and failures.

12 who simply said yes.

12 maybe initially intrigued by the phenomenon of this healer, this man on a mission, this bold and powerful presence.

12 who agreed to follow and followed Him to the cross where everything changed for the 13th.

12 who saw His sacrifice for them, for us and if not changed by being with him before, knew they could surely be changed for good then.

12, occasional misfits, uncertain followers and a doubter along with a dissenter who chose death because of his disbelief.

Like us, like me.

Jesus said, come alongside me.

I will show you what God has planned.

Just follow, keep following me.

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. – John 3:16-17

I’m linking up with others on the prompt of “13” for Five Minute Friday. Better than most times, I wrote freely for about 5 minutes.

http://fiveminutefriday.com/2018/07/26/fmf-link-up-thirteen/

Love Every Morning

Faith, grace, Peace, Stillness, Vulnerability, wonder

I reach for a cup every morning, thoughtful or not. I’ll grab the big one that says I’m the universe’s best mom or the one from a long ago trip my son took.

A favorite is the “sunshine” cup, from my sunshine, my daughter, bright yellow with a little hope reminder in the bottom you see when your coffee runs out.

If I’m open or uncertain or meh, I’ll just go for the cream color from the set.

Today, I went for the Valentines mug, not a gift from anyone, it ended up at the office and then my desk and now home. To be honest, it was a donation and we promptly ate all the Hershey hugs and I claimed the empty mug.

So, today I took the mug from the shelf and I’m drinking creamy coffee sweetened with honey because I know it’s true.

It’s true every morning. All I need is provided. Many of the gifts I cherish, He has provided.

Every morning, every minute, I am without a doubt reminded.

God loves me.

Loves me more.

Loves me despite sharp words spoken, selfish moods and motives and mostly my less than focused focus on Him.

He loves me meek.

Loves me mindful of Him.

Regardless though,

Loves me more.

“I have loved you, my people, with an everlasting love. With unfailing love I have drawn you to myself.”

‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭31:3‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Linking up for five minute Friday writers on the prompt “provide”. I am so thankful that God’s provision of love never runs out . Happy Friday!

Sweet Spot

Art, bravery, courage, Faith, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized

The blanket’s all stretchy from my toes and it’s folded tightly underneath my feet resting on pretty footstool.

Pillows moved to the end of sofa, my Bible, my books, my pencil and my pad, these are my morning things.

My eyes move towards the mantel and rest there, reminding of the sea, the abstract I got right, one I decided I’d keep.

I long to stay here, paint later, then write, I long to be a home woman.

I am in my sweet spot. I’m exhausted from other places, I want to stay, to paint, to write.

I told my husband, told my daughter. They’ve heard it before.

I’m tired of other things, things I don’t enjoy; but, have to do, I call it “peopling”.

I long to be selective with where my energy goes. I long to stay in my sweet spot, to do work that feels like treasure not toil.

Retired last night thinking this and woke with the same.

Then, remembered, it’s not me who gets to choose timing. I’m not the keeper of doors closing or opening wider. I just do what I can where I am and let God do the rest.

Right?

Yes, If I’m honest it’s not that I’m weary, it’s more that I’m waiting, excitedly and expectantly.

Like up to bat and on a hitting streak, I can’t wait to get back in my batters box, my painting desk, my writing desk, my sweet spots.

Closer to the wholeness that God will use, tired of the halfheartedness of before.

Maybe not so tired of what I have to do; just more sure of the sweetness of my sweet spot and the seeking His will there.

Going out into the work world and returning here every day.

“Therefore thus says the Lord: “If you return, I will restore you, and you shall stand before me. If you utter what is precious, and not what is worthless, you shall be as my mouth.”

‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭15:19‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Rambling and all over the place today, still linking up with FMF on the prompt of tired.

The Sound of Sigh

bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, grief, Peace, Redemption, Salvation, Stillness, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

It was audible. The whole house, empty and I’d heard it once already. A peaceful type awakening of thought wrapped up securely, held safely down deep.

The bottom of the soul’s well, causing a welling up.

That’s what a sigh sounds like, I believe. A bringing up to our surfaces, the soul’s regrets, letting them see the light and to leave us better, leave us in peace.

John was born for that, to show others Jesus as peace, Jesus as redemption, not regret.

Someone saying they had so much more to say and I remembered my regret.

My “ohh” came out all gravelly like the sides of my heart somehow roughed up the edges of my words and my voice was a sad sigh tarnished by memory.

I remembered regretting coming back home that night. And I remembered what I said by her bed.

I sighed, my understanding audible.

My voice muffled by the knot in my throat as my daughter shared what her friend said her husband said, his father gone before he had the chance to say more.

I sighed; but, not for long, I listened instead, stopped my taking of another’s grieving thunder.

My sigh changed then, from oh I know to hopefully more, I understand.

Same morning, I’m thinking of what I missed finishing the day before, good intentions stolen by circumstance and once again, I regretted not painting, not writing, not following through.

I opened my little book called “Joy and Strength” to the place chosen for the 2nd of March.

And again, the sound of sigh, this time a sigh of affirmation and of hope.

This one, “Ohhh”, more like “oh, my goodness, oh, my soul,

Oh, how amazing, oh, the love of God”

I sighed, “oh” again, the sound softer then, a validation.

I believe that love reigns, and that love will prevail. I believe that He says to me every morning,

“Begin again thy journey and thy life; thy sins, which are many, are not only forgiven, but they shall be made, by the wisdom of God, the basis on which He will build blessings.”

Thomas Erskine

“Oh”, I sighed, a prayer, again today.

Heavenly Father today I begin again.

Steady my heart, give me opportunity to remember and sweetly sigh, “oh” as I walk along the path of peace that you have made so amazingly free and possible despite my past sins worthy of many regrets.

In Jesus’ name and because of mercy.

Amen

I’m afraid I never can finagle all my thoughts into words in five minutes. I’ll link this post with the others though. I’ve already read so many very good posts on regret from others, I’m joining the conversation.

http://fiveminutefriday.com/2018/03/01/fmf-link-up-regret/