Truth and Vision

bravery, courage, Faith, grace, Teaching, Trust, Vulnerability

I can’t decide if my glasses are old or my vision is changing or maybe my morning eyes find it harder to focus.

I wake with prayer and I carry that prayer with me to the place I open my words.

I fling the glasses to the side because I’ve crinkled up the corners of my cheeks up towards my lashes and I realize I’m better without the lens.

I wonder if there’s misconception in my thoughts I think to pray, if I’m seeing clearly what might possibly be ahead.

I’m in a time of not quite sure what’s my part anymore in this thing I called my treasure. I believe if I’m honest I’ve let my vision become blurred by other objects.

I’m beginning to tell myself the truth, like a failed diet…if I keep it secret will anyone know?

Maybe not.

But, I do and better to have good intentions than discarding all intentions and effort.

Without fail I find truth every morning.

I’m not supposed to know it all, see it all.

I’m just called to keep looking and focused and certain what I’m seeking is through the lens of my Lord.

“For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.”

‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭13:12‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Begin again. Press on, things will become more clear.

Imagined Lives and Enough

bravery, Faith, grace, Trust, Uncategorized

I saw the prompt first thing, Five Minute Friday’s link up/join in on the spontaneously impulsive writing. I always go over the time limit, still I like the idea of free flow.

And I love, loved it, a word already settled in my heart. I’ve finally found the place of enough, goodness, I hope I stay longer.

The word is “Enough”. I thought, Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that, even made a proclamation of its value and convincingly told myself that enough is well and good and is well, enough.

Like the little corner in the room I call “writing”, I had lofty ideas for its design; but the Labrador has taken over the bed and I’ve yet to order the gallery pictures for the walls. Still, I made a little corner more special and I believe it’s enough.

Enough is a mindset easily tainted by comparison and imagined lives causing me to feel less than enough or mostly, lately…”How on earth would I find enough time to do the things they do so very well and smoothly? Every place I gaze upon, I see helpful hint overload, guidance, encouragement like coursework on a syllabus to be followed. Do this, that, keep going, keep trying, keep writing. ”

Steals the joy of it really, sometimes, the joy of pretty sentences looked back over to cause my nod slightly when no ones around.

Yes, this is me, this is brave, these words match my thoughts. I imagine the lives of others having seamlessly designed days of basking in the satisfaction of completeness.

I imagine them more joyful because of it.

So, I’ve decided this and will do my best to stick to its conviction.

I will write a few words, eventually chapters and upon sending the words into the world, I will say to self and listen to self as I offer up prayer:

Lord, let this land in the face of one looking down, looking for connection, for reason and relating. Let me not reach to grab back for show or measure what I’ve given to you for you to give to another.

Lord, remind me of the joy of enough.

Linking up with Kate Motaug for Five Minute Friday.

http://katemotaung.com/2017/04/06/five-minute-friday-enough-plus-a-giveaway/

enough

Purpose and Possibility

courage, Faith, Trust, Vulnerability

I woke excited to know the possibility.

One of many, I am sure; still, it could be me. I wrote a brave story and followed the instructions for a literary competition.

Added writing the essay that initially was soft and spoke of childhood to the list in the margin of my calendar called “to do”.

I’ll know in a few days. I’ll know to be afraid or relieved, emotionally giddy over being chosen or a bit scared of being seen and hoping to hide behind my grandma like a little girl afraid.

Either way, there’s a purpose for the outcome. I know this to be true because I asked it to be so.

Prayed, Lord I am taking this next step you have “purposed” me for and I will see you all along the journey.

Purposeful, everything is.

Opened the cabinet for a cup and see it there, little black mug with letters painted white to remind…plans and purpose, not for harm.

For good. Time will reveal what good will come. May be simply the knowledge of taking the brave next step to make the next one more brave.

Or maybe it will as my friend promised, the purpose of the shedding light on dark places hidden so I am free, more free than I have been.

A beautiful and sweet, purposeful free.

Linking up here: http://katemotaung.com/five-minute-friday/

Leaning In

courage, Faith, grace, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized

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I just asked the Lord, wrote him a morning note in my journal.

How is it that I feel so close to you Lord, every morning, yet, by day’s end I’m worn out and walking, looking for you in the sky? What draws me back to the middle, the hollow place between fervor and fading, between living and languishing?

And he answered me with the pencil in my hand. Lean in, listen more closely. Don’t stay in the background questioning your value. Don’t stand at a distance afraid of what might not come true. Lean in, Lisa, I see you believing. Don’t be like the skeptical and uncertain ones who rejected me in the synagogue of my place of birth.

Thinking there’s no way, his father is just a carpenter and aren’t his brothers just common men? They wouldn’t believe, maybe they were pompous or possibly just afraid, thinking themselves unworthy or incapable of what believing might bring.

So, Jesus carried on to draw near to ones with open minds and desperate hearts in need of a Savior.

May I not so grow so confident or accomplished that I neglect to lean in and believe.

May I not be afraid because of who I’m not, to be who Jesus knows I am.

And He did not do many works there, because of their unbelief. Matthew 13:58

Linking up with Kate at FMF http://katemotaung.com/2017/01/12/five-minute-friday-middle/

middle

Thinking of Now

courage, Faith, grace, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized

I’m writing for five minutes with thoughts on “Now”.

Linking up with Kate Motaung on this chilly Friday morning in South Carolina.

I’m driving five hours or so today. My companion and I will talk, some of it will be nervous chatter, filling up awkward empty spots. Some of it will be weather, season or world.

Some of our conversation might be about our children or maybe even our shoes. I woke, refreshed and said “Thank you, Lord, for I slept without tossing.”

Today Now

I prayed, “Help me to see my opportunities to help today, to speak the things I know.”

I heard a sweet lady yesterday tell me of her husband’s abusive childhood. He’s a kind and distinguished man, I was not alarmed; but, surprised.

She says he carries it with him. It’s a blessing and a curse, she said.

More curse, but, the blessing is he’s kind to others because of it.

“Yes” I said.

I drive today to help a woman who felt she deserved nothing. I will not speak for her. I doubt I’ll be allowed.

I will speak to her if opportunity presents. Ill tell her that moving forward is scary, that looking back and living in the place another placed you is more comfortable, makes more sense and lessens the fear.

Ill tell her maybe about Esther…The one who stood with grace and spoke for life.

I’ll tell her maybe this is her time.

Ill think, maybe it’s mine.

And who knows whether maybe you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this? Esther 4:14

Not Common – Five minute Friday prompt

courage, Faith, family, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized

Maybe it’s age I thought, except it doesn’t feel like an aged thing to do. I look towards the sky, treetops, moon and sun. I pause in the connection that feels more like settled than sage.

Closer to God, closer to them. I see my father in the tallest of narrow pines, the moon resting there, unpretentious.

If I told you a story of my father, I might have described him as common. I may have told of remembering his scarcity of conversation. I may have told you about his best friend Thomas who looked after my mama after he died.

I may have told you of his intolerance towards the pompous or arrogant or his consistently trying to be more than life and hardship had equipped him to be.

I may even have told you about his love hate relationship with drink, loving the way it numbed his past, hating its angry hold.

Most likely, though I’d tell you he was handsome, neat as a pin and wisely quiet and refined. When he smiled, it was true.

I might tell you that I never saw him read his Bible, nor did I hear him pray out loud. I believe he did.

I believe he believed and he prayed the way he lived, like Paul urged, quiet and not for noticing.

¹¹and to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you…I Thessalonians 4:11

Uncommonly quiet and simply uncommon…

We have that in common, I pray.

http://katemotaung.com/2016/11/10/five-minute-friday-common-a-giveaway/

Mail: prompt for five minutes of writing

Faith, grace, Prayer, Trust, Uncategorized

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.

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

Walking Towards Knowing

courage, Faith, grace, Trust, Uncategorized

Writing, based on Five Minute Friday word, TEST:

Up around this curve or the next is understanding.

Like most things, it’s a maintenance thing with me, the holding onto any pattern of positive for any stretch of time.

Something will get my attention, jar me back towards steadfastness; I’ll lift my shoulders and prepare to push through with a not gonna get me down attitude.

But, it’s the staying in that place and on that course that wears me out, flat out and flat.

Walking with less assertive ownership of the prize, I plod to the place where the assignment is complete and the lesson learned.

Up ahead, around the next curve, or maybe the next there will be clarity, splendid clarity.

Forgetting what lies behind and moving towards what’s ahead…Philippians 3:13

A Handful of Quiet

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

A room filled with women, we arrived and found our table. Five women can live at our homeless shelter at any given time. We’re always full, their stories always different.

One’s had a really tough stretch of days and she rode with me.

I told her on the way over about the way I sometimes write the word “trust” on my palm. I open my hand to look at it and remember or sometimes close my fingers in towards my palm, letting my thumb lie against the place I know the word rests.

She smiled and I drove, running late as usual.

When she realized we were going to the country club for dinner, she said,”Oh, we’re going to be at the country club?!”

I answered, “Yes.” and a added a little “whoop whoop hand in the air shoulder shake”

It’s my signature move. My daughter has built a whole “Snap” story around me.

She added, laughing out loud, ” Raise the roof, Miss Lisa!”

And then, her eyes glossy, “I laughed. This is the first time I’ve laughed this week.”

We all sat together. The women who live in our shelter, myself and another employee.

When grace was said, I opened my hands on my lap and listened.

Softly and unexpectedly,she put her hand in mine and I covered our hands together as we prayed.

The warmth of her hand was indescribable.

The thought of it still now as warm.

I spoke about our program, remembering little of what I said except “Their stories become my story. It’s only the grace of God that has kept me from the same hardship.” Because I always say that, always.

Some of the women in the fancy dining room listened, really understood. Most likely only some were brave enough to try and understand if I’m honest.

Let’s be honest, many were thinking…Well, I’d never get myself in such a mess like that.

The room was filled with wealthy women and towards the end of the night, one in particular clearly shunned me.

I felt it.

I have experience with this feeling.

I woke up remembering it and almost let it linger; but, remembered more clearly her beautiful hand in mine.

How could I minimize the beauty of the one hand by sulking over the other?

Better is a handful of quietness than two hands full of toil and chasing after the wind. Ecclesiastes 4:5

So, I prayed, “Lord thank you that my life has been less than perfect. That I’ve not had the perfect dress for every function. Lord, thank you that you’ve placed me in places that I get to hold the hands of others. Thank you, Lord that she reached for my hand, knowing I’d reach back. Thank you for reminding me to stop chasing the approval of others.

Linking up for Five Minute Friday although, I always feel certain I go over. I’m not so great rule follower at all. 🙂

Healed

Faith, grace, praise, Prayer, Trust, Uncategorized

She walked in slowly, not yet feeling welcome.

I’ve known her almost a year now and yet, she has a ways to go in not being afraid or unworthy.

We worked together on a matter of crisis she might not have been able to handle.

We talked about her worth. She was surprised when I listed her qualities, when I questioned whether she agreed; maybe more surprised by how strongly I insisted on her worthiness.

She broke her leg last year. We had to move her to the downstairs room of our shelter. It was a tough time.

She said to me out of the blue, in the middle of our meeting, “I can’t believe my leg doesn’t even hurt. I can’t believe that broken bone got healed.”

We both smiled.

A friend stopped by on Tuesday to talk about our programs collaborating more. We decided on a new initiative to prioritize a mother’s thinking, giving value and purpose to their lives, the gift of their child.

We prayed together; she first, then me.

I thanked God for her and the time she prayed for me, in agreement with me and the falling apart time she got me through.

I heard her sigh and felt the emotion of her surprise, my mentioning her to God.

It was raw, almost touchable, as if she felt God’s hearing of my voice.

Because in that moment, the thing we didn’t discuss, my healing, was real and she’d been a part of it.

The broken place was healed finally.

And after you have suffered a little while, the God of grace who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. I Peter 5:10