Morning

Morning always comes a little too soon yet somehow carries promises of newness, mercies, and hope. I carry with me habitual optimism so the breaking dawn looks to me like joy and vision spanning the gap between darkness and light.

I travel inward, deeply, as the colors move and change before me. I ready myself for the coming blaze of fire, sometimes obscured by cloud. It’s an ever present reminder that the world still turns and all things give way to the maker who spun it all into order and motion. I revel in the wonder and watch for the romance. I hold my breathe still, my heart soft, my hands out, searching for fulfillment of purpose. I know destiny lives in dreaming with eyes wide open.

There, I find you. There, I can do anything.

Hope and Soiled Hands

When small seeds of hope, planted in fresh soil, are stolen by the ravens it’s easy to become weary.

We toil in darkness on hands and knees. Prayer lifted in desperation can seem to hit empty air when the harvest waits.

Still, I’ve found hope doesn’t lie in seed. Hope lies in the waiting soul and the hands of the sower.

Tomorrow will grace us with newness and we can plow and dig. We can take life in our hands and cover it, willing, in the dirt and start a revolution. We can wet it with tears wrought in prayer. We can wait hoping for rain. We can harvest the rewards of diligence.

My hope isn’t in one seed. My victory not taken by one theft. My hope is bigger, stronger, cared for by work, and harnessed in faith. My hope, the anchor of my soul, is in the giver of life. I will win and I will rest in Him.

Dust Buster

boy in duststorm

Photo credit: Arthur Rothstein, A young boy in dust storm, Oklahoma, 1936 PBS

 

“Awake and sing, you who dwell in dust” Isaiah 26:19

The dust hangs heavy in the air, swirling around hiding the light with haze.

It’s easy to become lost in the chaos, caught up as the torrent of fear flows by, catching us unaware, unprepared.

It’s easy to break and stumble. It’s easy to give in and crumble as the mud starts to cake, heavy, on our skin. We become a sculpture of something else, a figure we never expected to be.

The mirror betrays us. We can’t recognize the person staring back, glass eyes, with fire dimmed to ember.

But there’s a song, a melody resounding above the thickness and our eyes suddenly open to the wonder.

Open your mouth and sing along. Let praise emanate from within. Let it cleanse the air with the sweetness of Spirit. Let it wash the skin and mind with life.

Sing of His greatness, hear Him call you by name, and know that nothing else matters. He sees, He hears, and He adores you.

Figure of dust, know that you are a treasure, transformed by love song into beauty.

Around the Table

True Vine

The question was posed to me, “What is God doing in your life?” I don’t always have an immediate brilliant answer and maybe that’s my own pride trying to come up with a brilliant answer. Today, I thought I’d answer that question as if we were sitting around my table, coffee in hand, talking.

God is teaching me so much about myself. I am a stubborn redneck woman who has spent her life surviving the situation using whatever strength I can muster at the time. But in God’s economy, my strength is weakness. The more I try to control and ‘handle’ my circumstances, the farther I drift from Him. Lately, more than anything, He’s showing me my need. I desperately need my time with him daily. I am learning to slow down in the midst of the mornings and breathe in his word and his ways. I am learning to stop when I get in high gear and find his heart.

God is showing me that for all my knowledge, if I miss his presence, I have nothing. I’m learning that holiness is less about abstinence from sin and more about my old man burning away like chaff in the light of divine majesty. I’m learning that though I outwardly may seem blameless, if in my heart, I have an attitude, I’m not pure. I’ve prayed that God would purify my heart and create in me a woman who isn’t always so concerned with being right. Rather, I seek to be a woman who pleases God. I will bring him everything and watch him do whatever he wills. That is the key to peace.

I’m learning that the deeper I go, the more I find the simplicity of the gospel.

‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the first and great commandment.  And the second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets,” Matthew 22:37-40

Romans 12:1-2 “I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service.  And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.

Most of all, I’m learning that this life isn’t about me. My marriage isn’t about me. It’s about me giving of myself, pouring out, just as Christ did for the church. If I let my pride, ego and self-preservation tendencies get in the way of that, it’s a lot more difficult. If I surrender my rights and give myself fully to the wonderful man God blessed me with and give of myself to a world in need, the rest falls into place. God takes over when I let go.

It may all sound like commonsense and I suppose it is. I find that the more you know, sometimes you have to go back to the basics to find the fullness.

I pray that God is teaching you similarly. I pray that you hear his voice as he quietly whispers to your soul. There is such freedom in his presence. Today, and everyday, I invite you to grab a cup of coffee and spend some time with him. Find his heart not just his head. Read his word. Dive in all the way and immerse yourself in his love. There is no greater treasure.

Autopilot

eagle_flying_bird

Autopilot – when I go through the motions

Head down, resolved, ready to do whatever it takes to make it happen

And then I sometimes break as resistance pushes me to realize I’m not built to maintain; I’m built for greatness.

Not greatness I’ve built with the persistent efforts of my hands, but greatness that comes only when I let go of my ambitions and allow yours to take over.

I ask so often for you to take all of me and then I feel injured when it’s pointed out that I can’t do everything on my own.

Why I allow the stubborn me to crawl off the altar of sacrifice and proffer a vote, I’ll never understand.

So today, once again, take it ALL.

Take my rights, my self preservation, my emotions, my ambitions, my plans.

Make them yours and use them for your glory.

I will fix my eyes firmly where they should stay, on the prize of the high calling of Christ.

There my feet find wings and fly, above the clutter, into your presence.

There, I find peace.

Blue skies

Buried

photo 5

 

I’ve been buried.

The weight of the dirt is pressing hard against my skin.

I feel bruises forming but in true ‘tough girl’ fashion, I pull hard to hold in the tears and fight to stand against the pressure.

The earth sticks and cakes my lungs with mud as I breathe deep and will myself to keep going.

“I am Iron Man!” I repeat to the masses in hopes they won’t learn of my weakness.

Still, the charade is up and I fear I’m exposed, insufficient and lowly.

photo 4

The lifter of my head leans low

Reminding me I wasn’t designed to carry the weight of the world on my Gumby shoulders.

His strength in weakness perfected, lifts me from the mire, clothes me in white and I remember to breathe Him in.

I lay my head upon His shoulders and all at once, I see the sky.

photo 1 (2)

Growing, We do it Everyday

Big Boy

Baby Man’s first tooth emerged to surface last night. It was another rite of passage into “big boyhood”. The signs keep coming that he is growing so quickly. He is zooming through infancy with lightning speed while we crawl around with him on the living room floor hoping to savor the moments. He still sweeps me off my feet with each giggle and that smile that lights his eyes and melts my heart.

I am just a mom. There are days when I leave for the office without realizing that I haven’t brushed my hair. There are nights when I forego cleaning dishes for cuddles and cluster nursing. I’ve traded makeup and high heels for slobber and bare feet (baby slobber…not mine, in case you were worried). My concerns in the morning are now, did everyone brush their teeth? Lunchboxes? Backpacks? Is everyone in the car? Wait, I’m missing one. There she is….let’s go.

And I love it!

God is a Father and I’m convinced He loves it too. Think about what He has to deal with on a day to day basis. Yet, He’s there cheering us on when we grow a little and we cut a spiritual tooth. He’s holding our hands and helping us learn to walk along. He smiles when we look up at Him with toothless grin. He scoops us up in His arms when we fall down and cry out for help. He forgives us when we get into something we shouldn’t. He’s never frazzled and overwhelmed like me.

Maybe it’s like they used to say when I was young, “Babies having babies”. I didn’t appreciate hearing that when I was in my 20’s, but now I can laugh and look upward at my Father who is so patient with me and appreciate the wonder of it all. I’m just a baby trying to figure it all out with my babies in tow…and I’m growing everyday.

I can toddle along the best way I know how. I can follow my Father and never let Him out of my sight. I can fall and learn and get back up. I can be secure knowing that even in my baby steps, He’s celebrating with me. He doesn’t demand perfection. He knows I’m learning. He will never leave me or forsake me.

So, today I’m celebrating a first tooth and the realization that I am right where I should be, in the hand of a loving God who gave Himself to bring me life. A savior who sacrificed everything for me. I’ll let Him lead me as I lead these precious one’s He’s trusted me with. It’s a good life when He’s in charge!

Who Told You that You Were Naked?

The lizard in the rough

There they were in the garden.  Man created in the image of God. A single rib taken to craft stunning beauty, a helper designed with detailed intent, a companion worthy of him. The crowning achievement of the Father warranting an affirmation of “goodness” from the lips of the one who’d just spoken the world into existence.

There were no thorns to prick the skin. There was no need to till the ground. The earth yielded abundance to them from divine mist that covered creation each morning. That alone is phenomenal to me, to think what it must have felt like to be covered by a mist sent from His own hand. What was it like to truly be kept…to walk with God in the cool of the day?

Then along came a serpent…

Even now his slanderous tongue spews poison to our souls. Did God REALLY say? Is there something more He’s not telling you? You can be like God. Dig deep within and listen and you may hear it. The scar on humanity left at the scene of the slandering. The whispered notion that it’s not quite good enough.

I hear it from time to time, the echoing accusations slither in to tell me that at the core of me I am naked and I should be ashamed. At the end of the day, when I’ve done all I could do before collapse, I hear the whisper that I have not done enough. I don’t think I’m alone in this. The scores of books written telling us how to a better parent, a better wife, a better lover, a better businessman, all serve as proof that we humans have an innate drive to be better. We forget that God looked at His creation and called it “good”.

perspective

So we sew leaves into coverings and though we are firmly planted in the garden of His grace, we feel the need to hide. We are ashamed and lulled to discontent by the siren song of something more. It looked good and pleasant to eat. Maybe the wisdom we attained, the knowledge of good and evil, was only the ability to discern the complete goodness of God juxtaposed against the inadequacies of man. We look at what God created as good and pure and view it as neither.

Don’t misunderstand me, when sin entered the world, it brought with it a world of death and ugliness. I do not in any way think that we should look upon sin as acceptable and call the ugly beautiful. But Adam and Eve didn’t just hide their sin. They also hid themselves, their beauty, their security, their intimacy. They hid from God.

God didn’t despise them, he called to them, “Where are you?” He longed for them. They felt exposed and unworthy…naked and ashamed. His simple question still rings out over the earth. “Who told you that you were naked?”

Who told you that you aren’t good enough? Who told you that you are a bad mother? Who told you that you aren’t a good enough wife? Who told you that you don’t make enough money? Who told you that you’ll never amount to anything? Who told you that you are ugly or not thin enough or too thin? Who told you that your ears are too big or your nose or your eyes?

Whoever it was and whatever it was, it wasn’t God. He looks at His creation and rests and calls it good. He looks at your abilities, your talents, your personality, who you are at the core of your being and he sees a masterpiece. You are the only you. He knows everything about you, even the ugly stuff and he still loves you.

Fortunately for us, He made provision for the ugly stuff. That day in the garden, he promised that would bruise the head of the liar and crush him underneath the heel of the redeemer (Genesis 3:15). He made good on that promise using some wood, nails and an empty tomb and exalting forever a Savior. So the next time those whispers try to slither into your soul, remember that you aren’t naked anymore and drown those whispers out with gladness.

Isaiah 61:10 “I will greatly rejoice in the Lord,
My soul shall be joyful in my God;
For He has clothed me with the garments of salvation,
He has covered me with the robe of righteousness”

O Ye Stubborn Masses

I come from a long line of stubborn women. I too, am stubborn and opinionated. It’s just a fact, plain and simple. It can be a gift. I will not quickly bow to the fanciful voices of other gods vying for my attention. I firmly stand in the face of opposition with confident composure believing wholly in my cause. I am a woman of great faith. But like any great strength, once overextended it can be an area of weakness.

There are two areas in particular that come to mind where this is the case. One, when the stubborn individual is just flat out wrong. I don’t mean in cases that are subjective either. Have you ever met someone who is holding firmly to something without foundation, baseless and formless? They try so hard to stand on the vapor and can’t imagine why anyone would proffer the suggestion that it may not support their weight. They’re falling, yet every attempt to catch them only leads to more insistence that they are just fine and dandy. The rest of the world is forced to watch, helpless, as they crash. It’s so frustrating and often leads to the second area where stubbornness can be a problem, when two stubborn people face off.

The stubborn face off can occur when one stubborn individual confronts another stubborn individual on matters of principle. Both equally passionate parties will live and die for their ideal. Neither will yield or compromise. Neither will even entertain the notion that the other party may have even the slightest bit of sense behind their argument. So they lock in and stand off. Most of the time, both have an element of rightness on their sides. Sometimes the argument is beyond pointless and doesn’t matter at all in the grand scheme of things. The wise man, in such a case, would agree to disagree and walk away, but we’re not always wise are we? I vividly remember arguing with my brother for days when we were younger because he insisted that the sky was never blue, it was in fact purple. It seemed a noble cause at the time.

Other times, the argument is of vast importance. In situations like that, shots are fired, wars are fought, governments are shutdown…okay I’m not going there.

To the stubborn individual, rightness is a necessity. I know one stubborn person (who I am in a stubborn face off of sorts with at present) who will idly throw out a remark and the run before I can respond. It irks me and makes me laugh at the same time.

The truth is, I’ve decided that sometimes peace is better than rightness. Though I would be tempted to fight the battle to the end and slay the demons that I deem to be clouding the truth in another person’s mind, if I know the battle will not lead to healing, the fight will lead to deeper cuts in an already wounded soul, then the most loving thing I can do is to remain silent. Sometimes words I offer with the best of intentions, fall on deaf ears and further divide the heart of this person who I long to see live free. It is then, that I, the stubborn one, must learn to love instead of lead. I often need to learn to bind up what’s been broken instead of proving truth to a heart not ready to hear. This is not an easy thing.

Do I possess enough love for another that I can surrender my sword of correctness to offer support when the vapor isn’t going to hold? Maybe I can even come underneath the falling soul and break their fall with kindness and mercy. Maybe that is what Christ did for us. When we were blinded by our own agendas and sin, Christ loved us enough to be crushed, bruised, beaten and scarred. Then he rose victorious, taking with him the keys to all the things that could come against us. He held captivity captive and freed us from the prison of…us. He, the only one who was actually right all of the time, was willing to die, not to prove himself right, but so we could be right before the Father.

I would venture to guess, eventually we will all realize that we don’t know nearly as much as we think we do.