#TellHisStory

What I Said

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

I’d be more than enough if I quietly painted and gave myself over to small and large pieces or thick papers that I stacked high or hung in the corner of one wall.

And I left them there, to be seen

or not.

I’d be more than enough in the eyes of God and I believe, the eyes of others, too.

I’d be more than enough if not a single soul read the words I pencil or peck out.

More than enough if later, a long time away maybe, my children and grandchildren got a glimpse of my faith and my falters and remembered me well.

I’d be more than enough, more than I can know, if they found their names written next to a little dot and they knew that God knew and that I knew too.

Because I’ve found my name in my grandmother’s Bible, faded black underlines and a delicate cursive “Lisa” in the margin.

It was something to see, significant.

I’m all out of sorts with the attention that comes with the calling, the calling to write, the calling to create.

What a fine line it is, thin and fine, between expression and validation.

Too much, Lisa.

Too much Lisa.

This morning, I’ve read a blog post from a writer who wrote about grace, her focus for “31 Days”.

Her disappointment over not being chosen yet again, her submission denied.

I commented “same here, I understand, show yourself some grace, I’ll take a little too”.

Then, remembered what I’d said when I’d been informed of my own no.

It was a clear declaration, a mindset proclaiming acceptance, it was all the right words.

“Yes, Lord. I see this no is your no and I see that you see me not writing devotions; but, the book.”

I was confident in my making the no a yes. Everyone agreed, oh my, what a way to make a no a yes!

Oh, yes.

No.

Then that sneaky feeling came back… the fat girl in the weird clothes whose name was last to be called in the “Red Rover, red rover, send…right over” or the one sitting up proper amongst the pretty and proper dying inside over “How soon can I leave this room, how much longer must I be on display?”

I went back to my default of quiet girl unnoticed, safe, no fear of not being chosen.

It was familiar.

But, somehow foreign.

So, I asked God the other morning in the shower,

I prayed. It was different, not different because of where I was, shower prayers are my daily, maybe odd to some thing.

Different, because it was certain and for sure feeling.

“Lord, what will you think if I just don’t write anymore, if I don’t finish what you told me start?”

I waited, the question was free flowing, like asking a friend “What do ya’ think? ” easy to ask and open for their reply.

I waited, knees resting.

Then this thought, an answer to my prayer question.

“Wouldn’t it be okay if I just keep it to myself, and you, God…pages and pages of the heart you know?”

I waited, relieved to no longer be toting ’round the worry over my worth based on my words.

But, He answered.

I saw myself there at the end of my days resting close by the one who knew me best.

He answered, it was a gentle and kind reply.

Lisa, I know you wanted to

and I

wish you

had.

I wish you had

trusted me more.

This morning, I’m reading about grace towards ourselves and I’ve pencilled in my daily prayer of Jabez in a new way, like a conversation, God’s replies added.

Oh that you would bless me indeed. (I have.)

Enlarge my territory (I have; but, you still long to hide away.)

That your hand would be with me.(Always, it is.)

So that I would not be in pain.

(It is not of my making, any pain that you are feeling. I have and will grant your request.) I Chronicles 4:10

I walk out into the damp grass before work, a mindless morning thing, remembering the Winter day we brought the Labrador home.

It was work. I kept at it. More effort and angst than I could have imagined. The morning thing, routine, schedule, energy let loose…toss a ball, say “good boy” , again again.

Some mornings I rushed. In a hurry, but determined, days that were hard, cold, icy, some humid and mosquitoes unrelenting. Others, I cherish, the geese flew over, a cardinal flitted by, the sky was wide and blue and the rhythm of our play, it was enough.

His retrieval, his reply.

He lumbered up next to my side this morning, now two years with us. My mind miles away and he’d finished his rounds along the fence line.

I looked down and met his eyes.

“Where’s your tennis ball?” I asked, just like the way I used to say “Where’s your paci or your blanket, your glove?”.

“Go find your tennis ball.” I told him.

Then, I waited.

He came back, the dirty and matted old ball sideways, hanging tight in his mouth.

“Good boy!” I said, threw the ball a long ways and he ran towards it again.

Again.

I’m thinking about trust, how it is not struggle, about how I make it hard work, make it hard, make it too much me, make it vain. Decide it’s never enough, my trust.

I toss again. Again.

Still thinking of settling here, this morning thing, this scribbling down of prayers, rambling and random thoughts expression of art, or word.

Enough.

And yet, fascinated by what might come with trust.

I’ve opened my Bible now and it falls open to the pages marked with crimson petals,

Find wisdom. Find reply.

“Then I observed that most people are motivated to success because they envy their neighbors. But this, too, is meaningless—like chasing the wind. “Fools fold their idle hands, leading them to ruin.” And yet, “Better to have one handful with quietness than two handfuls with hard work and chasing the wind.””

‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭4:4-6‬ ‭NLT‬‬

So I’ll not sit idle, hands folded in my lap. I’ll be content with the one handful, not chasing after what might be in the hands of another.

I’ve gotten quiet today thinking about the contrast between strife and restful trust, motivation and following God’s lead to

go and find what is mine to catch and bring back.

Out of the blue, I hear from one of my “colors”.

Instead of saying, love you, how are you?, yes I’m still writing or hope to see you soon…

I say, “I’m ready to finish your chapter, up for a visit?”

“Yes”, she said.

And I have lyrics again, lyrics that come to mind.

“Only trust Him…

Only trust Him more.”

Linking up with others at Jennifer Dukes Lee. Click here to read and then share your love, your thoughts, your wisdom and words today with everyone around you!

Jennifer’s story of a man named Charlie, I’ve read again this morning as it’s the 19th year since my daddy died. His name was Charlie Ruel. He fought in the Korean War. He was a good looking man, sharp dressed, lover of the sound of a steel guitar and of my mama. He was a quiet man, not at jovial. When he spoke, he made sure his words were necessary, were beneficial. Tonight, I’ll go to Bible study. We’ve been discussing heaven and I pray I somehow hear from him, my daddy, Mr. Charlie Ruel Hendrix, the baby of his family.

Read here about Jennifer’s Charlie.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/dont-wait-tomorrow-say-needs-said-today/

Grace, I Pause

bravery, courage, Faith, grace, mercy, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

This morning the tiny icon shaped like a bell said, “Congratulations, it’s your anniversary. You’ve been blogging four years!”

Oh my! I don’t dare read the first year or so, convinced I’ve made no progress or worse yet, I’m in the same old place.

The timing of the announcement collided head on with seven or so paragraphs in draft where I’d once again belabor the significant or insignificant challenge that battled back and to.

Got a little taste of accolade occasionally and I found myself hungry, starving for me, miserably full, filled.

Full of myself.

So, that piece, it’s staying in the draft for now, hopefully forever, while I come to terms with the reality of this space I write, what it’s been, what it should be becoming.

I came home tonight on wet roads and under little pockets of orange behind thickness of dark clouds.

This morning the Rose of Sharon plant towering late summer, brought me back to a place I’d been missing, the pause.

I was intentional, opening myself to the beauty that should fill me again, not striving to see; instead, finding what might come in the pause.

The place where I remembered not to seek, instead waiting to have little thoughts come to mind with no expectation, only patience.

Like falling from above, landing ’round my feet, scooped up and brought to my chest, allowed to rest near my heart.

I’d gotten away from simplicity, I’d been sipping the juice of significance and I was thirsty, so desperately thirsty for more.

My longing for notice becoming impossible to quench.

I wondered what is this blogging I do if nothing more than a pink diary and your sister found the key?

I considered the way I’ve reacted to a tiny bit of glory.

Paintings selling, guest posts and strangers saying they hope I never quit writing.

Too much, Lisa.

Having a taste of it made me strive to be filled and in that scrounging for another little morsel of praise, I lost my voice, the thing I call treasure. I’d made joy ugly effort; I’d pressured myself to be measured by most everything other than my worth decided already by my Heavenly Father.

Too much Lisa

So, I sat.

I thought, I slept and prayed. I stumbled upon truths and began to believe in what I’d decided a “treasure” again.

Stepped back and away to come back not better, not broken, or made hard from shame.

Instead, softer like glow, welcome home.

I pray I learn to write this way, a soft but, still brave way…that I not spill my angst all over the page, contradictory to my declared quiet confidence.

I pray I wait.

Wait to be filled, my heart bursting with longing to tell, so that my writing be so graceful and grace-filled it will be quite clear it’s only grace

Grace that’s brought me thus far.

And there will be a reader or two or three who might have heard of grace ad nauseam; but, maybe might all of sudden wonder…

Could grace be for me? Could the grace that found Lisa Anne find me too?

That will be glory, that will be glory to God.

To know my words cause wonder, cause another to wonder…What is this mercy? Who is this Jesus?

Perhaps, I should know.

This is how I shall write I pray, not tripping over self into the abyss of bottomless searching for significance, for notice.

Satisfied in the place of pause, abandoned and found again in the place I remember to whom goes the glory.

From whom I’ve become acquainted with the knowledge of grace.

“May grace and peace be multiplied to you in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord.”

‭‭2 Peter‬ ‭1:2‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Telling Myself a Story

bravery, courage, Faith, mercy, Prayer, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

Summer is turning blooms brittle, the beauty fading and soon, Autumn will scatter all about the fullness of planted and grown, the seeds made complete.

Every day has been a day closer to surrender of my dream, the seed planted I know for sure in the soil of my soul.

Until I remembered what I’d written, a very long time ago, a note in the back of a book.

A declaration on the back page, why out of nowhere I remembered, no clue.

I was quiet, must have been the getting quiet, finally.

Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life…I Thessalonians 4:11

And the idea that’s pending completion had not been thought of back then, not at all.

I’ve circled ’round and ’round asking how, what, when to begin and keep going and what direction to take.

Blamed it on time, less than the best of computers and distractions welcome and otherwise.

Circling around chasing my tail, looking behind not ahead nor even now.

But, last night I decided it will be letters, the chapters I write, a manuscript made book by letters.

Because I thought of it and breathed an all alone and audible, “oh, yes, yes”.

And I decided they’ll be brave and true, the chapters.

But, not too, too hard to read.

And I’ll know this because if I can hardly handle the words that tell my story, it will surely be misery, laborious for another to read.

Yes, I’ve decided that and feel quite “writerly” in the decision.

I will write, honorable and honoring tributes to the ones I’ve called the “colors of my Bible”, women who loved me, still do.

I’d been so critical, calling myself lazy, a failure and then last night, driving home towards orange horizon, remembered the note in the back of a book I read every single morning.

If I could write a letter to them, the ones who remember, it would be about how God has changed me, saved, me kept me. I’d want them all to know and that would be my book. Me 8/1/13

And almost two years ago this idea I call my “treasure” began with a letter.

Surely, I believe it should continue just the same.

 

Linking up with other storytellers…Telling His Story.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/put-dukes-happiness-hard-find/

dbdc4aff-5690-4e57-94e4-7badc916de74-319-0000001872923f25-3

Have Mercy

Abuse Survivor, bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, mercy, praise, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

Today would have been Day 4 of my 40 day fast from social media, if I’d stuck with the grand plan, the idea to step up my game while freeing my mind and being able to say “Oh, I’m fasting from Facebook.”

Which I imagined would have been followed by, “Oh, wows” and wonder why’s and possibly edge of the seat waiting to hear how I’d come to this decision.

And I’d anticipated how some great and flowery after the fast enlightenment would result from 40 days without following and even more anticipated how people would be waiting to hear and consider a fast themselves.

Wow.

Lord, have mercy.

Oh, my goodness…”too much Lisa!”

Yeah, I did that, recognized it, thank you Lord, and then shifted my focus to how I might navigate the days and how they might make more narrow my wide and distracted path.

I’d not be seeing all the people selling all sorts of things to better me, convincing me to try something amazing.

I’d not be bogged down by information overload about the glasses I need to look at the sun and oh, I better make plans, everybody’s doing something somewhere.

I’d not feel different from most in that I’m not anticipating the eclipse; but, am more quietly considering spending the couple of moments in a quiet place at home.

I’d have been able to avoid the commentaries, people taking sides, analyzing, criticizing, sneering and opportunists seeking a place to expound their opinions.

But, I’d have missed out on the good words and goodness of people asking for goodness from others and for that I’d have been sorry.

Because I did that,

Said, “I’m sorry about Charlottesville.”

Acknowledged I could never fully understand and we embraced, both of us nodding, holding our hands up to heaven.

I believe she believes me because we’ve left it at that.

I digress, though.

Last week, I  was captivated by the idea. I announced that I’d be fasting soon, had calculated the days and I’d abstain from social media and two other distractions that I’d decided were dulling my sense of God.

And I was right, five days later…I am able to do without those things, discipline and moderation are refreshing, almost

effortless.

But, social media, I’ve decided not to abandon or restrain.

The reason? Wise words from women.  One, my daughter, one, my cousin and the others, two sisters. One said, “Oh, that’s trendy, everybody does that!”  The other, surprised me. She paused, leaned back in her cushy armchair and said…”You need to pray about this, I’ve been reading your words every morning…you’ll have to figure this out.” So, I replied that I’d just limit myself, maybe just post my thoughts about faith and God and things I’m being shown in the mornings, nothing else all day, leave it alone.

She again said, “You are going to need to pray about this, I just don’t know.”

“Okay, I will.” I said, confused and two days later sat in my morning spot and as clarity does, it came slowly, rested with me there a bit, making sure I gathered up its message.

 

The thing is, I opened my Bible to the Book of Luke. The first day, I refreshed my memory of Luke and his take on the life of Jesus. I read the first chapter.  I noticed the tone, a more gentle approach, the opening lines more of a beckon to read than a command.

“It seemed good to me also, having followed all things closely for some time past, to write an orderly account for you…” Luke‬ ‭1:3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

So, I continued to read and revisited again the two sisters, Martha and Mary.

“Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:38-42 ESV

I read of Martha’s frustration and her pointing out her efforts, her preparation and her lack of help to Jesus.

I’ve been searching; but, can’t find an answer. Did they know that Jesus was coming and bringing along the disciples?

How much time did she have to get the house ready, maybe cook a meal?

The last time I had company coming, a first time ever I’m excited to have person, I took a day off from work. There were linens to wash, little flowers to put in tiny vases, carpets vacuumed, dusting done, options for meals and pillows fluffed.

Making the best of what I had to welcome someone. I was worried we might not have a home good enough to impress her, to hopefully have her return.

I had the whole house to myself, me and the dogs, I was a flurry of stress and striving, driven to perfection, to making an impression.

I believe Martha was feeling this way.

I imagine she lost her sense of composure, her efforts trying to impress this visitor everyone had been talking about and she demanded to know why she didn’t matter…why is it that you’ve not noticed me? I imagine her, hands on her hips, her sister oblivious.

She was a mixture of keeping tabs and keeping up. Everyone a measurement of her value, every effort an opportunity to be satisfied with self, a contrast in diligent servant and frustrated martyr. She was disappointed, but oh so very determined in her display.

She wanted to be enough.

I understand.

And while Mary sat at the feet of Jesus, listening, Martha made sure He knew, to be certain He noticed all she’d been doing.

So, I abandoned the grand plan of the 40 days without Facebook.

We’d talked about the giving up of things, my cousin and I, of striving in our focus, of being more disciplined, of denial of any and all in hopes we might be a little better.

I listened as she explained what she believes and is learning.

We punish ourselves hoping finally, deprivation will lead to acceptance, to acceptance of the love of Jesus.

Her words I stored up. I can’t remember exactly; oh, I wish I could, because it took root, the truth grew and changed my mind, her words, my thoughts of them.

What I do to make up for before does nothing more than validate my shame, my guilt, my doubt.

My efforts only keep me where I believe I must stay, never stronger, only shrinking back to the place I feel most comfortable and guilty.

Grace is not punitive, doesn’t sit waiting for a show, never demands evidence of its due.

 

Grace, the grace of Jesus just shows up and stays, hopes we will rest a while in its presence.

Mercy, the mercy of Jesus reminds us to choose the better and gives us time to see it as better.

Love, the love of Jesus accepts our anxious ways, beckons us to linger, cares little about perfection and looks beyond our imperfections, and notices even less our idea of perfection so that it can show us the way.

The one who told me to pray called today.  I told her, “Oh, I’m not doing the fast. I was looking for affirmation, attention, I was hoping to be a bright and shiny blogger girl who could boast of her accomplishment. I was hoping to be good enough not to go unnoticed.”

To which she replied, languishing in wise southern cousin Peacock way…”Good, good, Oh, that’s good, oh…”

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee at Tell His Story…read about a beautiful mission here: http://jenniferdukeslee.com/tell-his-story/

 

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.

I Believe, Soon

bravery, courage, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I had a thought this week, or maybe last.
It stopped me for a minute, made me anxious, made me wish for different, made me long for more.

Made me forget for a bit the more than enough that is mine.

I won't call it an epiphany because I consider epiphany good, of value and I suppose I find epiphany forward in thought.

No, not forward, my worries, they've been more backward.

I thought my thought, "What if the words stop coming? The so clear clarity needed to be recorded, what if I can't recall, if I can't record, if I for fear and time not free, become unable to write?"

My cousin told me it's coming.

She said she believes it is soon.

She's deliberate and decisive in her declaration. She speaks truth, cuts no corners, adds what makes better and leaves out what's not necessary.

She speaks the truth like she serves up dishes, plates it up, puts it in front of you, joins you there in the joy of her hands and then takes your plate away, leaves you full, content, lets you rest.

She knows I've been struggling. Tells me it's soon, the writing, the angels, not sure which or both; but, it's soon.

"God is going to give you freedom, Lisa and I believe, soon." she said.

But, I've been afraid although I know fear leads to nowhere.

Afraid I'm not enough, nor are my words or canvas.

Craziness.

Yes, crazy thing is I've written more and with more authenticity than ever before.

I've painted more often and more freely, more me and okay with me than ever in my life.

There's the fear of not enough, the insatiable emptiness caused by what if coupled with the pitiful thought of why not more.

I ramble.

I have been blessed. I assure you. I have.

Commissions for angels.

Another opportunity, chosen to be a guest writer on a well read blog.

Goes live tomorrow, my thoughts on gentleness.

I pray they turn minds, hearts and thoughts to good places, to God.

They are my words, my understanding, my relating to the story of Jesus and the time he initiated relationship with a woman at a well who'd decided herself unworthy.

A story of a gentle turning towards peace.

Yet, I've been afraid.

This week, last as well. I've been afraid of what may not be.

My days, the past two have been discombobulated. I'm going from thing to thing, told I could speak as long as needed, then someone else gets my attention by pointing frantically at their watch.

I get off track, room filled with faces, I struggle to know what should be said next, what to do, how to act, my chest aches, I'm afraid I've not done well, continue or stop abruptly?

Apologized for rambling then a self-proclaimed toastmaster tells me I should never apologize…no one knows you faltered…okay, yes, I know. I know.

Evening reading that's usually morning, Lord, set me free from the need to control, to be so very hesitant for fear of not being persistent!

So, I prayed. I circled round the word, Peace. I wrote it on my paper taped to my wall, the door closed, making dark my closet, the place I sometimes pray.

We walked, Colt and I. Approached the tall pines all clustered together.

The birds all frenzied it seemed, asking What? Where? Who?

When?

I longed to see them, such a frantic chorus, the melody of not sure.

Could they know I understood?

We walked on towards the open, the sky a steely blue, sunset coming, changing our scene.

And it was gradual, so much so I noticed.

We got back to where we began and the birds, more settled or scattered, not sure.

But, less an obstruction to my quiet, we stopped to rest in the place we had always paused before but had not in a long time.

Not for awhile and I realized then I'd been rushing towards someplace, my steps more like darting chances or longing lunges.

Tired and afraid or afraid to be tired
and unable, incapable.

We turned towards home unleashed, the moon hazy above, just past dusk.

The Rose of Sharon, the rare one, my husband told me.

I noticed the bloom, open and resting, the glory of its color and it was the answer I felt, I saw…I was reminded of rest, wait, faith.

"Come, Colt." I said and he came and I was better, more at peace.

What I have begun, I know because of faith, which is more, so much more than feeling, I will continue.

Now finish the work, so that your eager willingness to do it may be matched by your completion of it, according to your means. For if the willingness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what one does not have.”
‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭8:11-12‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee to Tell His Story and a post I love so much…living a life that lines up with my talk.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/happen-let-lives-preach-louder-lips/

Vulnerable, Uncovered 

bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, marriage, Prayer, Salvation, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

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Only just a few minutes filled up the space of the time the storm moved in and I went outside to notice the sky and then a little more space between us sitting by the pool.

We talked of God and Eden and things we keep covered or rip off the cover, I thought, exposing what we feel must be better, must be ours to know now.  I’d walked outside after the storm had shaken all the windows, my husband walked in the room and announced, “Well, that was some show.” Paused and then to make sure I noticed added “I probably shouldn’t have been standing out in it”.

I listen, knowing he’s talking about the lightning; but, he does this thing lately, like a conversation starter game.  If I hadn’t said, “You mean the lightning?” He’d have come back with “Don’t you wanna know about the show?”

And I would have listened as he told me something I already knew.  Such is the play of who we are now, husband and wife aging, grace and more grace. (Smile.)

I walked out front to see the sky. One big chunk to the left, clearing with a puff in plump peach colored sun popping through enormous cloud.

I turned to face the road and wide bands of dark cobalt stretch out to border the horizon with more clouds warning,  it’s storming over there.

Stood there for a while and wondered how it’s possible to see the sky and not believe.

“O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭8:1‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Why the sky and its display of power and authority in itself is not enough to make us sure of God.

Why we don’t stay sure for as long as we should when we get to see such glory when we go looking for it, notice it’s God.

“When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭8:3-4‬ ‭ESV

The night, too beautiful to be ignored, I walked out back to sit, turned back to see the view and the moon had broken through, full.

I tried to capture it; but, realized I can never do justice, so just gazed instead.

Still thinking about God.

When my husband came out to join me, I asked “Don’t you think it’s amazing how we get to experience earth’s beauty even though creation was not exactly as God planned in Eden?”

He replied, “Do you think we’d all be walking around naked, if Eve hadn’t messed up?”

And since I didn’t answer, he went on to wonder what I thought and said “We would all just be walking around naked and nobody would care about being naked…wouldn’t bother you at all.”

“I guess so.” I replied. Such is the dialogue between us, I’m thinking majesty and beauty, he’s thinking freedom and unclothed bodies. (Smile.)

I thought about Eve later, Adam too.  I reread the account of creation, reminded myself of the earth and sky’s forming, imagined God stepping back like I step back from a canvas, satisfied and thinking it turned out the way I wanted.

And God saw that it was good.

Genesis 1:26

 Adam was created, then Eve and the plan was complete, they’d multiply. The earth would be filled with men, women, children and families.

God welcomed them in, gave instruction on living and left them with a final word not to eat from the tree called knowledge, the tree that distinguished good from evil.

And they didn’t for a while. They must have enjoyed the garden; been content in their state, knowing all they needed was already known.

I wonder about this time in between, how contented changed to discontented and sufficiency became insufficient, how enough became never, always more.

Eve succumbs to the need for more knowledge, more control, more knowing and she eats the fruit that will help her know all, she’s been told.

The serpent’s rationale, well God must have surely known you’d want to eat from the tree or else he’d not have put it here. He wants you to be wise…your eyes will be opened to the bigger the better, the all, you’ll be like Him, the all-knowing.

Then they did their best to hide from God; they’d both become ashamed and they covered what God had intended as beautiful, uncovered.

So began the lots of our lives here on earth.

Wanting to know more than we need to know and then hiding away when we’ve rushed to know it all, certain that we can’t be expected to not know, to trust the one who made us, surely it’s okay to take control.

Yesterday, I read a favorite verse, clinging to just a few of its words.

The secret things belong to the Lord.

“The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law.”

‭‭Deuteronomy‬ ‭29:29‬ ‭ESV‬‬

There are some things that I might never know, that aren’t meant for me to uncover.

Yet, there are so many more I’ve waited to understand that I now see clearly.

Why the road led me to Carolina, my father’s instructions to return to college, the  plans I forced that fell through my fingertips and the healing that I prayed for, believing, but was not given my mama.

There are stories for my children, how things that didn’t turn out, did after all.

Adam and Eve tried to conceal themselves, told God, you can’t see us like this. We know you’ll be angry, we’re afraid so we’ve covered ourselves.

And He was disappointed.

Disappointed they didn’t believe his promise for them, that it wasn’t enough.

He called them out of hiding, asked if they ate from the tree, did someone tell you that you were naked or do you know things now you should not have known, things that weren’t necessary for you to understand?

You will see, some things are too wonderful to be known, to not be sought after, to not be taken hold of by force.

I think of David and his prayer to be restored to the joy of his salvation after giving in to lust and then trying to cover it all up.

I remember Rebekah, the mother who made it her calling to have one son favored over the other, their demise, her legacy.

And I treasure the story of Job. I see him abandoned and grieving, his body covered in sores and his commitment not to question. His friends, his wife all unable to wait alongside him when he’d said no to cursing God and dying.

I hold close his truth, my truth, all our truths…some things are simply too wonderful to know.

“’Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?’ Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.”

‭‭Job‬ ‭42:3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I told someone just now, the major planner that they are, looking far ahead into our futures and the things they expect just makes now look less than enough.

Makes the grand of now go unnoticed.

 

Told them, there’s no way to know that this good thing we expect will come for us. I’m not looking that far ahead nor am I assuming what the wonder of tomorrow will be or not be.

These are the things too wonderful for me to know, not mine to uncover.

Only mine to ponder, to have make more sense when the thoughts become words and I get to spread them out here or in the pages of a tiny pencil marked book, I get to be vulnerable, uncovered. (Smile.)

I’m linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee to Tell His Story.  Read here about why we shouldn’t be afraid to take scary chances.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/scared-heres-shouldnt-take-chicken-exit/

Like the Mornin’

courage, Faith, grace, mercy, praise, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I’m gonna do my very best.

I declare. I am. 

Decided, just now, to live more like the morning.

Easy like Sunday or Wednesday or Tuesday,

Mornin’.

Try to live all day “easy peasy” like the thin lines on the blinds becoming silvery gray, drawing me to wake and early, saying let’s go and see.

Morning, takin’  it easy on me.

Time for anticipating, of dark coffee, pink pencil and the corner sofa spot where the tall thin lamp shines down in a quiet welcome, come.

I’m gonna live like morning all day if I can.

To be less frustrated by the unexpected unfriendliness of the day, I’ll turn back to my morning page reread and I’ll decide,

Okay, show me again. I know I read it in your book, underlined, recorded and thought for more than a second…this is God and this is good. This is for me.

No more gettin’ sidetracked by demands and details, brain overloaded from multiple tasks.

I’ve decided to try, too good not to, just try to break the habit of thinkin’ dread and despair and doubt. The things that come out most every middle of the day, like a prisoner breaking out, they’re gonna make their mischief, stir up stuff.

I’m gonna try, here and ready to begin yet again to be unswayed by patterns or people or less than promising plans.

Give me back my morning, no kidding.

I will surely thank me.

If I can live like morning for just a little bit longer like the summer sunrise lingers lazily deciding,  I’m staying up late, I’d surely be more contented come the night.

I’d stretch out my morning mind and soul, establish new ways.

I’m gonna live like the morning, savor it like creamy brown coffee, the color of thick chocolate shake.

I’m gonna cup my cup of morning and do better, I decide.

Less straining towards back home to sigh and declare oh, another day, another day…

Live easy like the mornin’,  yes, so much less me, so much more Him.

“Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love, for in you I trust. Make me know the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭143:8‬ ‭ESV‬‬ 

Discovering this Thursday morning, a beautiful and oh, so timely post about joy and suffering at quietlyreminded.com 

What a pretty place to visit, art and words and grace and truth! 

 
Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee as she writes about family.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/just-needed-someone-love-god-made-family/

Me Now

Children, courage, family, grace, mercy, Motherhood, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I wear bedroom slippers now, soft and gray, the kind you slip into and make the scruffy sound across the fluff of rug or hardwood. 


My husband says “pick your feet up” and I can’t decide if I’m old or tiny.

I grab the white robe, lightly patterned waffle texture and it’s mine morning and night. “Are you cold?” he asks.

“No.” I answer and don’t attempt to explain that it doesn’t matter anymore how frumpy I may be. I love my robe, it’s one of my things, sensory pleasing, comfortable against my skin, all wrapped up and at peace. 

My aunt used to wear her makeup to bed, fixed her hair before gardening, now my uncle sweetly fusses for her to shower when she’s been sewing all day and it’s about time for supper. 

She sews on and on, her fabrics feeling the touch of her aging hand.

 I love that woman, love that lostness in the thing she’s making, doing, it’s a not so fierce, 

More a pleasing independence, who she is.

I love that woman. 

Her now. 

Me now. 

I have a cousin, the same, fiercely honest and a master at getting lost in all things digging and planting. 

She is she, profoundly she.

She prays for me, I pray for her. 

A friend told my daughter last week, “Oh, your mama is stepping out, I wouldn’t be surprised what she might do.”

We all smiled. 

Today, the little girl who hid behind her grandma from the moodiness of boisterous grandpa and life will get to do something. 

Today, I tell myself just now, I will smile, unconcerned over the memory of a broken tooth that went unfixed because of time and money and life. 

Today, I will pray before filming a segment on a show hosted by a gracious and easy listening woman. 

I will follow God’s lead in my replies, because I will have prayed that God have his way with us both. 

Today, I’ll not worry about the appearance of knees, round and pale, showing for the world to see, because I love the dress, it’s me. 

I’ll stay where I’ve found is best and true, acknowledging God in these opportunities, the things I call treasures he has given me, a chapter in a book. 

The chance to talk about Him. How he undeniably is all amongst this thing! 

My chapter called, “Leaving Loved” submitted at the suggestion of someone I met while writing a story about her, then selected and I’m asked if I know of a non-profit that serves women and children. 

“Yes, I do, I work for one, it’s called Nurture Home.” Nurture Home 

And then, it’s selected. This is why I believe in taking steps towards possible opportunities. 

So, today I sit with coffee and a copy of “I Heart Mom” and I’ve prayed already and will be praying again. 

Thank you, Lord that I get to do this today and for whatever “this’s” come from here, from you, through you, 

for me now. 

The me I’m becoming, through you. 

“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. 

“They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.”

‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭29:11 NLT

This book, and these publishers, all a part of God’s plans for me, has stories of struggling, gracious and brave moms. 

There are stories of single parenting, of the loss of a child, of in vitro blessings and newborn blessings. 

The stories are authentic and are “every mama” stories. I encourage to consider purchasing one on Amazon for yourself, a mom or a friend. 

A portion of the proceeds will be divided between Nurture Home and another non-profit that works to keep young people safe. 

Thank you, Jesus for your grace towards me thus far. What a love, what a grace.
Learn more here about how God brought me to this place of now:

http://www.relevantpagespressllc.com/anthology

I’m linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee. Her story, also on Fox News website had me anticipating the answer and when I found the answer to “loving others”, the only comment that made sense was “awesome”. 

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/surprising-virtue-strongest-people-know/

Made Peaceable 

Faith, grace, mercy, Prayer, rest, Salvation, Trust, Vulnerability

We have meetings to hear all the sides and to keep pushing to a place of simply able to coexist, sometimes. 

Such is the environment of working in or  calling a homeless shelter a home.

Different dilemmas and dynamics all get together after nearly falling apart and landing like the big fairy tale egg at our doorstep.  Mothers, women, daughters and sons, different paths scattered by different ways.

I dreaded a meeting; but, knew it had to be and we all gathered, three of us who do the work and an objective listener. 

The agenda set with a plan of issues to clarify, I walked up on the big porch of the historic home now a shelter, steps flanked by lush ferns to greet our families coming home. 

I had not planned to do so; but, I used my sometimes negative attitude and demeanor as an example…spoke of how I’m sometimes prone to  stomping in and taking charge, of correcting whatever might be wrong. 

“I’m guilty of that.” I said, of being all puffed up because the ferns on the porch didn’t get watered. 

The three of them smiled and for a minute or two, I believe simply called to mind things and attitudes they know were theirs. 

Sometime ago I heard a sermon on the Beatitudes. The radio preacher, essentially said that the proclamations in these verses are how we as Christians should live. 

“And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. 

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy. “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God. 

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. “Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”‭‭ Matthew 5:3-11

These days we’re living in everyone knows most of how another is feeling and believing. 

Bandwagon faith or fault finding. 

There’s a big mindset I believe, toward declaring oneself a “believer ” of everything. We set the tone for loving all, embracing, all.  I suppose erring on the side of not finding any error at all. 

Far be it from us to question or debate one’s belief over ours, we fear being called judgemental or condemning. 

It’s a delicate walk for the Christian who boldly cherishes God’s word.

 Cherishes it, truly. 

Especially, the red words. 

It’s going to continue I’m afraid, so we’ll need to learn to be peacemakers. 

Be more peaceable people. 

We’ll need courage to say what we believe and we’ll need to check our attitudes. 

We all stumble in many ways. One leans over, we lean too and there we go falling down that slippery slide of holier than they. 

I told a friend yesterday about sitting with someone whose ideas and beliefs are different from mine, talking about fathers and how we loved. We talked about family junk, favorites, keeping score and grief. 

We both knew.

We found common ground and that common ground path led to my sharing how I came to a place of acceptance in the very similar struggle we share. 

I told her about prayer and God and she listened to me share the things that keep me sane, grow my assurance of and faith in God. 

It was a pleasant exchange, unprompted. 

Pleasant, because it came from her inviting. Her struggle led to my sharing, her listening led me to continue. 

This is why I’m certain Jesus taught peacemaking as the way. 

Judgement, avoidance or questioning our differences would not have led to our warm goodbye. 

I said, “I’ll pray for you.” she said. 

“Please do.” 

Maybe we listen for invitations to share, not kick open the doors to demand a listen. 

Lots of people say “love wins” or is “the answer”.

I’m telling you, though, I believe it’s peace. 

I believe it’s peace, peace they will see. 

“Strive for peace with everyone, and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord.”

‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭12:14‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I’m linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee to share His Story. 

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/storms-raging-around-jesus-meets-right/