surrender

Inspired by the Comforter

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I refuse to walk into the night cold. I will find a blanket.

If my heart is stone, I will find softener.

Life is too short for callousness. There is no option but love.

I may not know who I am, fully, but I know who I will not be!

I will fight with you, beside you, among you, until the battle is won, because that is who I am.

Let the ashes fly. I will watch the blaze and rebuild.

Let the dawn fade to blaze and I will ride it until tomorrow.

I can look forward like a near-sighted,blind optimist; Bruised and broken along the way and loving every minute.

Humanity is hard sometimes. None of us are exempt.

Find the real! Find the broken! Reach beyond your understanding and love beyond! love unconditional! Be you! Be Jesus to those who need to know Him!

Don’t shy away from the hard things, these are the things that make you strong!

Today…tomorrow

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It is human to look in the closet of broken dreams and wonder if you’ve done enough or been enough to sustain the hope.

But the closet holds so much hope! Never underestimate who you were and who you are now!

There’s no magic formula that makes us great. It’s in the showing up. Am I willing to show up today and tomorrow and keep going?

That is where the magic lies. Show up. Shine! Greatness is in a life ready to do the best one can tomorrow.

Will tomorrow be great? It’s up yo you. Screw today! Get out there and LIVE!

Thunder

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I was a human once.

I lived, I breathed, I knew who I was.

It was somewhere between where husband number one left me a puddle on the floor and husband number two decided I wasn’t enough.

Maybe I’m not.

Maybe they’re not.

I’m not qualified to say.

Tonight, I’m thinking I am beyond expectations and they are the fault.

Regardless, I’m here with the pieces.

Pieces are a funny thing. They fall in random intervals. They collide with ideals. They stick themselves in places you didn’t see coming.

But you hang on, groping for tomorrow because maybe it will be better and maybe peace can be found.

Maybe, instead of the ideal that someone will rescue me, I can find solace in me and my faith and the promise of tomorrow. I am tired.

I’m tired of picking up pieces and expecting gold.

Still, I am an optimist. I believe in tomorrow.

But today is real and I need to feel it to gather the gold.

So I struggle and rest in the same breath.

I am me and for tonight, that is enough. Tomorrow may be another story.

Shine when the darkness covers.

Shine when you can’t find light.

Today is a day gone…tomorrow is eternity, so live!!!!

Random thoughts from the lost and tired.

Be you!

Bring the thunder and the light will follow…at least that’s the hope.

Listening

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The dark can be so daunting

The light can seem so dim

Still, from heaven, you are calling.

Can I hear your voice again?

No fear in death or life, though all of hell presses in

Your voice, the roaring lion, shatters mountains and hangs on the wind.

Still small voice, speak to me. I’m listening!





Missing

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Tomorrow is a glass half full.

Tonight is a memory.

I exhale with baited breath to find myself on my knees.

And I know it’s “worth it” if I die another day.

And I know there’s purpose in the things I choose not to say.

But it was you and me against the world until you were gone.

Now it’s me and me to fight alone and I’ll sing some lonely song. Maybe I should just face the truth that you’re gone.

Maybe I was the “missing one” all along.

Here on the Edge of Dreaming

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When dreams seem to be dying before your eyes and hope is dwindling like a campfire guarded by a nodder, there is only one answer.

There comes a time when we are required to act on all of the things we believe in.

Suddenly the lofty ideals become necessities of survival.

We earnestly listen for the voice of our king to whisper a reminder that it’s all okay.

Our circumstances might be trivial in the scheme of eternity but they are our present and they feel like boulders, heavy, pressing.

My pastor has always said to see what kind of fruit something is, squeeze it and see what kind of juice comes out. (Eph. 5)

I’ve felt like a lemon this week, hoping for sweetness, love, joy, peace…instead finding sour.

The stinging remnants of old fears dropping in to say hello.

All I thought I’d sacrificed on the altar, shooting for a comeback and I stagger slightly until I remember to command my soul to listen.

“Why are you cast down, O my soul?
And why are you disquieted within me?
Hope in God” Psalm 42:11

Here on the edge of dreaming I hold on, knowing he didn’t bring me here to watch me fall.

I trust him.

Autopilot

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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

Painted

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Image

Paint me in colors only you can see. Vivid and full of life. Free from dull and gray.

Sing me in melodies unheard to human ears. An aria of mystery and beauty, sweet and precious to the orchestra of heaven.

Build me as a monument to your praise. Standing tall and strong in the face of the giants that would try to shove me over. A testament of your goodness despite all odds.

Make me humble, childlike faith that rests in your strength instead of ability given from your hand and misused.

Give me your eyes, your ears, your words.

Above all, give me your love and let me share it with the world.

The Edge of the World

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winter

In my own little world I become numb

The small of my back resting in a small little chair

In my small little house on a small little street

In a small little town

Where the green grass grows all around, all around…

The days go by one by one like a blur and I forget to open my eyes

Perspective is a thing gained in increments, easily ignored, or swallowed forcibly

We can either look straight at the moments that define us

Or recover with as much grace possible when life hits hard

I hope to choose the former

mount

So here I am on the edge of the world realizing that there is a vastness so much greater than me

Adventure so much grander than I have imagined

A people gripped by more need than I have acknowledged

There are tears I have not shed in prayer

Hands I’ve refused to hold for fear of soiling my own

Eyes I have not looked deeply into

Thirsts not quenched by the reaching of my own hand

Somehow here, my mundane seems to lack meaning

To make an impact above the ordinary

To excel in the midst of the mediocre

To fulfill, suddenly becomes the only source of fulfillment

I am made full by the pouring out of all I am on the altar

The emptying of self in reasonable service to the Most High

Deep calling deep within my soul

Revealing to me that I only live when I stop living only for me

Here on the edge of the world, I find a new beginning.

Unruly Tongue

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From the outside looking in (or the inside looking out) I find myself wondering why I’m saying what I’m saying.

It’s that crazy moment when the spirit is screaming for me to zip the lip and I’m still going and realizing somewhere in the middle that I already regret what I let slip out.

Ah, unruly tongue, I want to wrangle you. I’d like to wrap my arms around the python and squeeze. Maybe it’s to prove that I have mastery over me. Maybe I’d like to show some fruit instead of being a cursed fig tree. Maybe I just don’t like messing up. Whatever the reason, can I undo what I’ve done? Can I suck the words back into my lungs and pretend it never happened?

“But no man can tame the tongue. It is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison” James 3:8

Flesh

At the end of the day, there’s grace. I’ll stand up again, awake and ready. I’ll try to tame my mouth but the truth is, I am utterly dependent on the Comforter. Only the Holy Spirit can remind me to wrangle my words and reveal to me the truth about my heart. He is my ever-present help. Through him I can make it through this crazy world with tongue and flesh in check, ready to lay my life down again on the altar of grace.

Then when I’ve messed it all up, he wraps me up in his love, showers me with mercy and covers me with peace. I can’t help but fall more in love with him daily. So I’ll press on today with this my goal, “O Lord, open my lips,And my mouth shall show forth Your praise.” Psalm 51:15. Maybe today I’ll learn to bite my tongue a little harder before it bites me.