Understanding Skies

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

clarity

I’m not one to toss and turn. If I’m troubled, I go to bed.

Say to myself, tomorrow will be another day.

Then, place one hand on my chest and pray.

Silently, easy like water traveling a slow path to a broad river.

With morning and time come newness.

The sky was a wide expanse of cold, pale lavender today.

Its width cloudless and open. Enough open space to learn.

An expansive sky, with just a faint glimmer of sunlight in tall tree.

epiphany

My eyes rested there and remembered my earlier revelation.

I hurt someone’s feelings trying to be right. Looking for answers to a question already known with certainty. I have a few sayings.

One of them is never ask a question you know the answer to.

Asking for trouble. Not answers. Asking to be right when being right makes no difference in the hurt, adds harm to hurt.

I was self-righteous. Smug, hot-headed and determined to point of the wrong in another causing hurt that was never intended.

I begged God to fix my mistake. Not the answer you need, said God.

The answer is seeing, truly seeing.

Epiphany, in an insightfully clear sky.

The manifestation of Christ in me, with me despite errant will.

Looking down, it’s still there. I thought of adding to my collection earlier, decided to let it rest instead.

A petite pine cone, stiff with the cold and shining silver in brown straw.

And I smiled, remembering gifts of baby pine cones she brought.

boots and pinecones

O Lord, you have searched me and known me!

You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
You search out my path and my lying down
and are acquainted with all my ways.

Even before a word is on my tongue,
behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.
You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.

Psalm 139: 1-8

Balloons, Anchors, Hope and Faith

courage, Faith, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, wonder

Walking outside with dogs, hoping for a glimpse of tangerine sunrise and I’m happy to turn back, look up and get crescent moon instead. It’s my favorite moon.

Makes me hopeful for things happening in places I can’t see yet.

Makes me believe, stay faithful.

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for.

Hebrews 11:1

Inspires me not to give up.

Like faith, believing the things I see now.

Things that caught me by surprise.

Hoping for the fullness not seen yet.

Holding onto hope like thumb and index squeezing pretty ribbons trailing balloons.

You may have heard the verse. It’s become the trendy quote, the go-to for hope. The definition of hope, an anchor for your soul.

We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. Hebrews 6:19

There’s strength in this verse. The idea of being firmly secure, able to drift only just so far…our souls in a place of safety, anchored, sure to stay put. That’s a good feeling; but, hope’s something more to me.

Something a little lighter, a little brighter, even whimsical.

Like pretty balloons gathered together for celebration.

Imagine if we all went through our days balloons tied to our wrists or held gingerly as we stopped to acknowledge a friend.

Think of your day, appointments handled, issues resolved, periwinkle colored balloon hovering above your desk.

What joy it would be to turn upon waking and see it there, tied to nightstand drawer pull, moving ever so slightly as you begin your day.

Most of all think of the countenance upon our faces as we paused, intermittently to look towards balloon.

Well, that for me is hope.

It’s looking up towards heaven reminded that hope’s still there.

It’s the crescent moon, crisp and bright against morning sky.

It’s expecting sullen sky and turning back towards home to see pearly white clouds filtering light.

It’s being reminded of what we’ve held in our hand all along.

Hope and faith, balloons and anchors

Linking up with others who Tell His Story

Jesus We Love You

Faith, family, grace, Prayer, rest, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder

On this, the seventh day of Advent, I undo the card from my display.

Remembering my son’s girlfriend, IsabeI chose this as her favorite.

On this Saturday that’s yet to unfold

O’ Glorious Day!

My heart sings an old song.

My Jesus, I love thee

Know thou art mine

For thee all the folly

Of sin, I resign. My precious redeemer

Savior

Art thou. If ever I loved thee

My Jesus ’tis now.

Oh, what a beautiful reminder of peace is the sunshine flooding through my window, remembrance of the gift of day!

As if to say, “Here’s a new day…Let it be good.”

The tree, only partly adorned, reaching out to capture the light of day

And my little journal, gratitude list,

Just one word with a period added for emphasis.

Prayer.

To you, O’ Lord, I lift up my soul. For you are good, and ready to forgive and abundant in lovingkindness to all who call upon You. Psalm 86:4-5

Jesus, we love you.

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee today

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/six-steps-to-a-guilt-free-christmas-tellhisstory/

Troubled Hearts and All

courage, Faith, grace, Prayer, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder

The day, already designed

If it were possible for God to be perplexed by us

I wonder which would trouble Him more

Our hearts or our minds?

The sky was filtering early signs of sunlight finally, today.

Just before dawn I noticed and stopped to ponder my wavering faith.

To settle my thoughts on one word, All.

To trust in all my ways with all my heart .

Proverbs 3:5-6

If God were troubled, annoyed, frustrated

Would my less than grateful heart be the cause?

My heart is confident and assured at times, but if reminded somehow of loss or regret I go right back to solemn and sullen. So quickly my mood can move from presence of good to overshadowed by the past.

So, I’m wondering this morning what life would be like if God grew impatient and bewildered when we turn our hearts back to the shadows and we

get stuck there

unwilling to embrace goodness.

Would he be more confounded by darkened hearts or questioning minds?

Minds that doubt His design, losing sleep.

A prayer before sleep last night, a lament of surrender led me to wake earlier today. Vacant thoughts slowly led to recall of a “memory verse” that beckoned me forward.

Trust more, Lisa.

All your heart, not just a little.

All your ways, not just some.

And then in the quiet, a reply, “It’s good that you’re back, Lisa. Hope you stay a little longer this time.”

Grace, grace, God’s grace.

He’s a good, good Father.

Just a hint, rising up, peeking through. Waiting and believing with all my heart, all my mind.

Just a hint of light, peeking through. Waiting and believing with all my heart, all my mind.

Grateful Pauses

Children, family, Motherhood, praise, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

Last week, I decorated jars.

Attached pretty slips of paper on twine wrapped greenery.

Greg added little openings in the jar lids and I smoothed out the paper labels Heather made, “Give thanks” labels for front.

Took them downtown, added a little sign to sit beside with Quiet Confidence, Isaiah 30:15 and my name

Calling them “Gratitude Jars”.

I need to make my own now, label it and become diligent in daily recall of blessings.

On my way home a couple of weeks ago, I stopped; another car and mine, waiting for light to change.

Two men on the corner, one helping the other.

One, shaky in his walk, clutching his brown bag, being led by the other down the sidewalk.

For just a minute, I wondered if I should be afraid, should flip the door lock.

I didn’t.

I watched, pausing to remember my daddy and a time he needed my help to walk, memories of his unsteady days.

This was the week of the remembering him 17 years gone.

And the memory of holding him up had nothing to do with drink.

I paused to watch and smiled.

It was a sweet, solemn time. He had surrendered to love, help and grace in his last months of life.

Another time, similar in scene, came to mind. Again, in the car. This time, Heather, Austin and I. A man holding a cardboard sign, dressed in clothes that were a little scary and looking towards our car as we approached.

My daughter and I remarked something; I can’t remember what now, not at all kind, I recall.

My son, probably around 8 spoke up as clear as a bell from the backseat…”What if he’s Jesus?”

And the car fell silent.

Pausing to remember even now, the conviction in his voice as he chastised us.

I headed home, the two men in the distance.

Thinking of my son now, knowing he still believes in what he said that day.

I will remember this as a “Grateful Pause”

Last Sunday, “Mr.Bill” had Children’s Sermon. He’s the best. He’s animated, unpredictable and loves to surprise them.

I always listen intently and watch their faces as I sit in the choir loft.

His props are the best. This Sunday, he pulled out a shovel.

He asked the group, “How many of you like to dig in the dirt?”

He paused. I paused.

And the sweetest memory came to rest. My eyes misted up just a little and I saw my Heather Analise.

Blonde, blue-eyed, wearing a sun hat. The two of us sitting together in the sandy field for hours on end. She digging in the sand. Me, digging my heels into the cool earth while she loaded dirt in her little shovel and then moved it to a pile, only to wedge her little shovel into that pile and move back to the other.

Hours on hours of the nothingness of our blissful play in the dirt with my daughter.

I pause even now, remembering and grateful for the sweetness of my life.

A grateful pause.

Grateful Pauses, I’ll label my jar.

I’ll jot these stories down and drop them in.

Then, I’ll watch and listen, pausing for more chances to be grateful.

Praise the Lord, my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name. Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits— Psalm 103:1

Linking up with Tell His Story writer, Jennifer Dukes Lee

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/the-best-seat-in-the-house-tellhisstory/

Persisting

courage, Faith, praise, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Vulnerability, wonder

There are a few, maybe more than a few things I am persistent in.

I always make my bed, taut linens, perfectly smoothed quilt.

I pray every morning in the shower, like singing it’s a place to be secret, a sanctuary.

I journal, sometimes half-heartedly, gratitude and anxiety.

I walk in the evenings, if daylight allows. My walking, sometimes good and refreshing, sometimes nothing more than prescribed discipline.

Yet, I persist.

I walked yesterday evening. The sky was clear, the roads quiet and empty. I looked for pink skies and found only icy blue.

Earlier than usual, a warm afternoon and the sparrows were gathered, moving tree to tree in rapid little sweeping flight.

Landing for just a second or two before gathering again to rest in brief refrain. I caught sight of one resting up high on skinny branch.

Reminding me of rest, of waiting, of listening and trusting.

Persisting.

Scribbling, quickly this morning

Again my thoughts on persistence.

It may take years and years and many types of trouble, calamity, crisis and question to truly understand the value of prayer.

Because the answer holds little value, is really no more than change in circumstances. God loves us so, so much that He will bless us with reprieve, with clarity, with relief.

Still, this is not the significance of God’s longing for us to discover through prayer. God’s desire and constant beckoning of our hearts is for us to lay our hearts bare and broken before him…to persist there in that place…aligned with Him. To be fully content in simply abiding.

To return to rest in the safe place of God.

To persist in pursuit of the peace of God.

To be hid in the shadow of His wings and that be all we need to keep us confident and courageous as He bends to listen, protect and strengthen. This is design and desire of God.

I am praying to You, because I know You will answer O God. Bend down, listen as I pray. Your unfailing love is wonderful and You save with Your strength those who seek you as a refuge. Guard me as the apple of Your eye. Hide me in the shadow of your wings.

Psalm 17: 6-8

Linking up to Tell His Story with other writers, persistently praying.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/for-those-times-when-you-dont-see-a-happy-ending-to-your-story-tellhisstory/

Richly Beautiful

courage, Faith, family, rest, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I walked again on the beach this morning. The birds were gathered, foamy white gathered at their feet.

The air was cold, crisp and damp.

Just a few people out, dogs, toddlers and joggers.

I’d grabbed a jacket, thrown on over T-shirt and pajama pants; my only thought, just to walk on the shore.

I’m thinking now, what freedom…to be unconcerned about appearance, seeking only to be filled, fulfilled, connected to God.

I’m not quite sure if it’s age or wisdom or wisdom because of age.

I care a little less about appearance in comparison to other women; still, not nearly enough yet.

I sat next to and walked amongst throngs of women this weekend. All moms of a Citadel cadet, all shown up, fixed up.

There to see ours sons, while looking at each other.

Beautiful women, tall, thin, heavy, dressy, sporty, dresses, shorts jeans, heels, flats, fancy sunglasses, perfect hair, ponytails and buns.

Women, looking for sons and looking at each other.

I was an overweight teenager. I spent hours looking at Glamour magazines, longing to be thin, pretty, a “Glamour do”.

I learned to starve. I learned to starve more and I had more clothes than most, yet never enough.

I lived this way for too many years.

I sat just behind a woman about my age this weekend in a football stadium. I fixated again, it had been awhile. I found myself longing for all she seemed to be.

Her purse, its label, one that comes with a price..around $599.00

I noticed her wristwatch, casually resting against a delicate gold bracelet. Her jeans were smooth in texture, a fabric akin to dry cleaned slacks. Her thin belt, a correspondent to flat leather shoes.

Her cardigan, loose on shoulders fit perfectly to show the subtle gold looped chain that centered itself against crisp white top. Her earrings, thin hoops of gold accented her cheekbones and spoke of casual femininity.

I thought, ” I’d really love a watch like that.”

I’ve not had opportunity to splurge. I’ve not been afforded with riches or income that allow spending without concern.

I’ve become content in the extravagance of a mom who wants her children to have more. I have seen goodness, the goodness of enough, of God.

So, I sat there in the stadium and I thought in a new way, to visualize her riches on me. I wondered if life might be better.

I saw myself wearing her watch. Rising from my seat, reaching for the soft leather of her purse, my purse. I pictured me in her outfit; I imagined my face framed by soft cardigan and pretty earrings…

And I realized; clearly, nothing changed. I am me.

She is she.

This morning, I read only one devotion, my routine different because of travel. I read from Jesus Calling.

Found feather

I read of God illumined in me, of His gift in me…Beautiful.

In me, with me. I gently laid the feather found. This one, washed and covered in gritty sand.

I settled it there to rest.

Battered and imperfect, redeemed.

Beautifully redeemed.

For it is not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you have been redeemed . I Peter 1:18

Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee to Tell His Story.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/six-words-that-can-make-all-the-difference-today-tellhisstory/

Wednesday Prayers and a Sunset

courage, Faith, family, Prayer, rest, Trust, Vulnerability

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Walking under Pink Sky filtered in the Gray

courage, Faith, Prayer, rest, Trust, Vulnerability

Late summer days felt long last week. I walked late in the evening, forcing myself to move, not sure I’d be better for it. Two days with music and Colt, the humidity still as ugly and thick as sludge. Returning home, up the curvy hill, feeling nothing more than well that’s done for today. Heavy, exhausted and thinking about way too much, my days ended that way early last week.

Then, on Thursday I walked alone. It was even later than before and I was embraced so sweetly, feeling change in the air, a wispy cooler breeze. My walk, more patterned, the sound of shoe firmly hitting pavement, tap the ground with toe, raise the heel, walk on Lisa, walk on.

I walked head up, glancing one side then the other encompassed by sky, cloud and treetop; I began to let go the piles of mental junk mail, recycling the good.

The sky is changing now with the season. The blue is more azure, the clouds more shadowy gray and foreboding and just at the right time of day, a tapestry of a sweetly, subtle pink in contrasting texture.

And so, that evening I had space enough to ponder faithfulness, of God.

How every morning last week, the geese flew over our back yard when Colt and I were out. I’d stop to listen as they approached and say to myself “Here they come. ” not in my voice, but my mama’s. I was taken back to the dock and the contentment of simple expectation fulfilled, of geese flying over a pond, a simple sameness, a faithfulness.

A gift every morning. God’s, the geese and mama’s gift to me.

I thought of how these last weeks, God kept me still and quiet and waiting.

Less adamant in my jumping ahead.

I sense God now, in this time of change, guiding me.

The things that troubled, somehow have become smaller, resolved or resolving.

I topped the hill on our curvy road and looked ahead, almost evening then. I stopped and waited, hoping to prolong the view. This view, a faithful sky, a sunset and the promise of a flock of geese in the morning.

Your unfailing love, O Lord, is as vast as the heavens;
your faithfulness reaches beyond the clouds. Psalm 36:5

Because, God is faithful.

Because God believes in us even when we don’t believe in ourselves.

Sovereign over us…all around us.

Thank you Jennifer!

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/when-god-calls-you-to-do-something-crazy-go-ahead-and-do-it-tellhisstory/

Plans and interrupted walks

Children, courage, Faith, family, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, wonder

We walked uphill that evening, Colt the big Brown dog and I. Like raising a toddler, it’s important to stick to routines like tennis ball toss before work and certain chew toy at bedtime. Walking, that day was a chore, pulling the leash and correction and command.

We rounded the curve and topped the hill then stopped suddenly.

At least twenty geese had gathered in the empty lot; pond on one side, subdivision the other. They lingered as if convened in strategic discussion as I waited, phone in hand anxious to capture the hysterics of geese taking flight and lab reacting to the chorus of winged flight and duck song. I untangled the leash, found camera on phone screen and steadied us both, dog and I for the flight show.

Then without chaos or startle, in orderly and quiet fashion, the pattern was complete and the geese ascended rhythmically upward and away. No crazy videos or shots of dog and bird, just one single image to keep. At first I missed it. Looking closely you can see it there between the pines, following pattern and plan. The one image of our walk interrupted by geese and God.

Flight

Today, I get to see my son. My daughter will see her little brother. We will acquaint and adjust knowing his pattern has been changed. We’ll talk of life and love without using the deep words or any words at all, knowing this time is a celebration of significant strength, grace and prayers heard.

We’ll meet up, convene for a while with my special beyond words cousin and then we’ll return home more convinced and thankful than before of God’s great and Sovereign navigation.

And we’ll thank for him for the better plan.

The one not seen until surrender, not known until pausing to look again.

O Lord , you have examined my heart and know everything about me. You know when I sit down or stand up. You know my thoughts even when I’m far away. You see me when I travel and when I rest at home. You know everything I do. You know what I am going to say even before I say it, Lord . You go before me and follow me. You place your hand of blessing on my head. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too great for me to understand!
Psalms 139:1-6 NLT
http://bible.com/116/psa.139.1-6.NLT