abundant life

Monday Blessings

2012-01-30T06:04:00.001-08:00

* waking to this incredible house every morning

* remembering how it happened

* the woods out the windows, glowing with fresh white winter

* my family tucked sleeping, inside

* watching intently and keeping near our only son - our miracle

* a safe white dog

* the hope of new growth in the fresh start of a transplanting

* my Mom's cookies in the cookie jar, actually made by my Mom

* my son's weekend of playing with Gra - ALL weekend

* a happier teen who is ready to do life

* a healing God who knows just what He is doing and has plans for me to prosper

* our GMG Ephesians study

* free worship

* homeschool flexibility

* Greg's job

* cold stone creamery strawberry cheese cake with reeses peanut butter cups

blessings

2012-01-24T08:51:00.000-08:00

a crooked scentsy warmer

the streaks I never saw until today on the white cabinets made by the magic eraser over a week ago

the permanent sparkly blue nailpolish that exploded in the dryer last weekend, a continuous reminder of my J. Glynn

5 and 6am mornings at the neighbor's taking care of his hobby farm

that chewed up knobby little wooden dog brush I relinquished to my puppy when it was all she would chew

peanut butter fingerprints and puppy nose prints all over the lower half of my windows

a basement theater TORN APART and waiting for a second renovation wind

dreams of old wooden drawers filled with fresh grown grass on the mantel

Tina, on the counter, all chewed up by the cat who surely doesn't go on the counters in the night

a giant pile of mail, school notices, karate information, coupons, netflix, postcard reminders, etc...

the way that all these imperfections are a part of my beautiful life.

Toward me

2012-01-23T15:04:00.000-08:00

When You opened my eyes and ears and mind and heart, You unleashed my spirit to life in You.

People who knew me said it would be over in two weeks. And not out of cruelty. Just honesty, according to my history.

Now, over 10 years later, I still stand in complete awe of You. I stand in a kitchen with You, my arms raised, tears streaming, hardly able to squeak out the words of the worship song I promise, knowing You so much more, yet exactly the same as the day I was born.

You've washed through and through who I am, over and over, year after year.

The best relationship - the best love of my life is with You.

And I know, full well, if it weren't for Your Power toward me who believes, there would be none of this. No seeing or hearing, no healing, or growing, no closure or filling, no love like this. There would be no Ezekiel William. There would be no Greg and Lora. There would be no wholeness or walking in this joy and hope if it weren't for You.

It hasn't been by my own power or ability to stay 10+ years. I know as well as everybody else that I don't know how to stay 10+ years.

But it has been by the Greatness of Your Power Toward me (Ephesians 1:16-19) that has brought us 10 years, and will hold us through eternity together.

In Jesus name.

Sub Zero and Still Warm

2012-01-21T07:24:00.002-08:00

On a morning like this, when it's -6 degrees, I do grumble inside a bit about having to go out to take care of my neighbor's animals.

By now I should know better. I'm always so much more as I'm pulling out of that driveway than I was when I arrived.

It's impossible not to notice and be warmed by it all:

*the little pieces of my friend's unique personality waiting inside the doors of his home

*the running shoes lined against the wall, the wood carved statue he moved from the front porch to the dinning room after I photographed it in silhouette, the piece of bark that looks just like a crow (I had to double check)...

*all six dogs waiting in the bedroom behind the gate that I know someone I love put up last night when they stopped over to tuck them all in

*five poolies running toward the back door to eat some fresh snow and go potty in the yard

*returning to the kitchen for some snuggle time with Chico until the others are ready to come back in

*the way they all look up at me and wait for their little treats

*saying "have a good morning!" to them, and "BEHAVE!" as I close them in to head out to the barn

*the way the snow glistens in rainbow colored glitter under sunlight - God's incredible artwork

*how I anticipate that sweet chicken greeting as I slam my shoulder into the door to open it

*that crazy noise they make - I can never help but smile and imitate it every time I'm with them

*the young rooster gives me his own little developing "good morning", and I'm glad he thinks so, too

*so close, they don't worry one bit that I'll step on them...

*I watch carefully and walk as slow as I can, apologizing when I feel a little toe under my shoe

*they will stick their heads in those feed bowls the second one grain hits the bottom- and then it's feed pouring all over their heads, and more smiles from me... goofs

*I can hear them, those sweet goats mah-ah-ah-ah-ing for me in the next room

*the smell of their sweet treat

*today, a chicken actually jumped in the bin when I opened it - they've been "cooped" for two days in this cold and they're getting a little wild

*petting the once skittish little cream colored female goat- I knew it wouldn't take long for her to get comfortable with humans living with her Daddy, Jeff, who likes to take the chickens in the house now and then

*checking the warm heaters that grumpy Kevin lovingly installed in each room yesterday- because of which the water isn't frozen today- whoo-hooo!

*whoever put that stanley hammer next to the door in the pole barn is my hero

*closing the door I yell, "have a good day sweet babies! I love you!" -wondering how many people would think it's insane

*I mean it though- I love them

*I love knowing the people I'm collaborating with to take care of this place -they are family to me

*and Jeff, running in Africa, who brings us all here, together, for him

*the quick drive back to my house with the sun on my back reminds me just how easy it is, and how close we are, to love

even when i don't know why

2012-01-18T03:20:00.001-08:00

In the same place again for a second week. A different church. Not the one I've been seeing. Not the way I'd been going. But I feel He wants me here. I've felt Him and seen Him moving in this place for me these past two weeks.

The infamous speaker is finally speaking. The one who I've heard so much about but never heard speak in the handful of times I've visited. He's speaking alright...

and he's twisting and ranting a personal, off-putting spin on the character of Peter... and the disciples. I watch him on stage, making Peter into a spotlight monger. A haughty wanna-be. Molding his humility and shock that Jesus' would serve him, so undeserving of such a great honor, into arrogance and idiocy. ??? Painting the picture of an irritated, slandering 12 behind him. ???

I look up, higher. "God, this is where You brought me this morning?"

But I see the good, deep hidden in that there will be no idolatry here for me. There'll be no waiting with baited breath for the next Moses, or Gungor, or great leader of my Spiritual life to open his mouth and speak directly into me.

No, that is safely reserved for the Holy Spirit.

I close my eyes to look inward.

I see the letters on the back of my eyelids.

RESERVED

I remember the place card on the empty table I photographed before the wedding party arrived one week ago yesterday.

And He soft rubs in Truth and revelation:

RESERVED means retaining or holding. The table is reserved for someone special. Someone of honor will sit here.

RESERVED means the One who is welcome to sit at this table may freely pull up a chair. There should not be anyone in His place.

Reserved means to refrain, like the quiet man I can't wrap my mind around. How does he remain so "reserved" in his words.

Reserved is what I should be, for God.

There should be a "RESERVED" sign at my tongue. Reserved for His use, His intention, His choosing and partaking...

Proverbs 10:19

When words are many, transgression is not lacking, but whoever restrains his lips is prudent.

James 3:6

And the tongue is a fire, a world of unrighteousness. The tongue is set among our members, staining the whole body, setting on fire the entire course of life, and set on fire by hell.

Ecclesiastes 5:2

Be not rash with your mouth, nor let your heart be hasty to utter a word before God, for God is in heaven and you are on earth. Therefore let your words be few.

Proverbs 21:23

Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble.

Psalm 141:3

Set a guard, O Lord, over my mouth; keep watch over the door of my lips!

The offering in the church is being taken. And where am I again?

Right where I belong. With my God on a day of rest.

He's taken me, again.

And I will follow.

Blessings

2012-01-16T05:08:00.001-08:00

that the carcass looking meat in the snow by the front step turned out just to be a busted open pie pumpkin :)

the day after a day of rest

the work being finished

the mess cleaned up

the start of a good morning girls study of Ephesians

so many friends joining to read His Word each day

the first week of friday night vows

doing things God asks even when i don't really like it

the difference between chains and freedom

washing dishes and praying for a neighbor

knowing that our families are all eating the same cookies today

being in charge of my own schedule

short haired dogs

two weeks of mornings at the farm

my wee niblet

homeschool

science experiments and exploration

moving me to frame and find The Master's Peace

He is good if He does and good if He doesn't

"say it every single day... you never know when it's your last chance"

Blessings

2012-01-09T06:16:00.002-08:00

Waking to my six year old, limbs all woven into mine, curled and dreaming sweet.

My big white dog, not so big as we imagined she'd get, soft and quiet, placing her paw on my knee.

A vast sweeping of new hardwoods everywhere I look, waiting for years of family and friends to make them a part of our home.

All of us safe, healthy, and full.

God's promises, prompting, involvement and continued guidance.

New steps to healing a year old heart break.

Breaking out and trusting Him.

Window views to a January outdoor that looks like Autumn, still.

Rice milk

My dearest friends living right in my neighborhood.

Laundry day with good shows ready for me to iron to.

Homeschooling flexibility and our fresh start beginning today.

Humbling lessons around every corner.

God's patience and grace.

One more week until we begin Good Morning Girls: Ephesians.

The number of friends and family who chose to join in growing together in the Word.

This weekends wedding, alone.

What God reminded me on the spiral stairs down from the choir balcony, and the confirmation in the calendar around the corner.

Motivation and a sound season.

Knowing I have so far to go, so much to learn, yet being okay with all of it.

Right here and now, AND the road ahead.

2012-01-06T17:42:00.001-08:00

A pretty kitty with soft paws that stay on

That same Kitty's new self-cleaning litter box

Stressless over having a torn up house

A cool basement to hang out in when we need to

A sweet and caring little niblet

Sari spending time with me today after school

A very kind floor installation guy

A Sami's bread order on my front step

Delicious gluten free brownies that taste "real"

Feeling healthy all day long for weeks

A good neighbor who calls

Peace

An unexpected number of Good Morning Girls

Being in love

Counting what Counts

2012-01-02T14:05:00.000-08:00

I haven't found it from taking a pill. Not after a girls' night out or a deep house cleaning. I don't find it in a bottle or at the end of a fork. Not even in escaping far away in a good book or a morning massage.

The only way I've been able to center myself with what is right and move forward with a better perspective has been to read God's Word and count what counts.

Anytime that I stop and make an account of what is Good, I am changed for the better immediately.

At the fresh starting place of this new year I am beginning again, to everyday live in gratitude to God for all that I have, in all things.

Each week on Monday I'm going to sit down and type one of these lists here:

* aeropostale pajamas all day

* toys from one end of the house to the other

* the voices of my only child, his best friend, and our foreign exchange student all playing together

* fresh scentsy scents

* homeschool freedom and flexibility

* freshly purged and washed cabinets and fridge

* a happier, healthier, grain-free pug

* homemade cookies and ice cream

* laundry day and shows to watch for ironing

* pink cleated soft paws and no kitty surgery

* someone wonderful to dream with

* beautiful white snow covering dormant brown in waiting

* new and exciting beginnings

* God's provisions in ALL seasons of life

Writing What's Right

2011-12-07T04:05:00.002-08:00

I kind of always thought I blogged during my best days and years because I was happy at those times.

Looking back, I'm beginning to see that my most joyful times have been when I've focussed on the positive, been grateful about my blessings, and seen my life as something worth keeping. All things that happen when I blog.

Over the years, this has been more than a creative outlet, a documentation, or a way to share our life with my friends and family. It has been an accountability to being in the moment, making the most of everyday, listening for and to God's voice, being thankful, finding riches in the small things, remembering to remember, and proving to myself that there is goodness in each step of the way.

I've been gone for awhile now. And I need to come back from where I've been.

I don't know where in me I'm going to find what it takes, but it is time to start again ~ to write down what's right, and let the wrong go unaccounted for.

even The Planet Keeper finds Rest

2011-11-22T14:15:00.002-08:00

She said she could see it coming, "Three days. Three days of rest followed by something... big". And I haven't stopped thinking of it since. Asking, wondering, dwelling on the meaning of rest.

God's Own brand of Rest.

Zeek and I have been talking about it during school. The seven days of creation. One of them a full day of Rest declared Holy by The Maker of the universe.

And we've talked about setting aside one of our seven days.

But where does a human find Rest?

How do we stop the train?

Isn't it to honor Him that we dig, scrub, press, kneed, organize, feed, plan and keep? And shouldn't we stop, kneel, and offer all of this. Declare it all Holy?

But where do three days come from the hands of a full time wife, mom, teacher, pet keeper, driver, chef, homemaker?

Oh, but Who does Make my home?

And Who Brings the Peace that we settle into?

And didn't He Create the entire planet? The Planet Keeper Himself.

If He can find Rest at the end of such Work... if He can find a moment to call it complete; to declare it all Holy, then why couldn't I?

He told the Israelites to collect enough manna only for the needs of their family each day. And those who tried to collect more were greeted with maggots in their surplus. But God allowed them to collect double on the sixth day in preparation of the Sabbath; the day of rest.

So, the Israelites, who were in the desert and had a very real constant need for God's provisions, not only found His favor and miracles left and right, but even they were miraculously prepared for Rest. Plan ahead, gather double, and make way for the Sabbath.

Aren't I in charge of what I do with my schedule? Couldn't I plan ahead each week? And if the task really is as insurmountable as it feels, then couldn't I allowed myself to completely rely on Him to part the waters and make His Way?

Walking with Scripture

2011-11-17T07:15:00.000-08:00

The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.

I have all that I need.

He makes me to lie in green pastures.

He leads me beside the still waters.

He's providing the peace. Not me.

He's doing the leading. Not me.

He renews my strength.

...He said to me, "my grace is sufficient for you,

for my power is made perfect in weakness."

He guides me along right paths

bringing honor to His name.

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death

I will fear no evil...

For You are with me...

and if God is for us then who can be against us?

For I am convinced that not death or life,

not angels or demons, not present or future, or any powers,

not height or depth, or anything else in creation,

will be able to separate us from the love of God

that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Your rod and your staff they comfort me.

You prepare a feast before me in the presence of my enemies.

You honor me by anointing my head with oil.

My cups runs over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,

and I will live in the house of the Lord, forever.

Psalm 23

Romans 8:38-39

Romans 38

2 Corinthians 2:9

More than my Salvation

2011-09-25T06:14:00.000-07:00

It's been cold and stale in this room, where those months just before You're Light filled every edge and shone about countless gifts and blessings everywhere my eyes rested.

My season shifted, and I took the change in stride. Who gets to have You so close, so effortlessly, continuously, forever?

I kept my eye on You. My heart ready to jump in where ever You called. I bent my knee and raised my face to the sky everyday. I spoke Truths to the little one, and I placed my prayerful hand on the rise and fall of the chest who still tries to carry all our burdens. I crossed through this house proclaiming our cover. Dry as the words were of Your power.

I waited, and I didn't fill with guilt. I know the Spirit is like the wind, and who knows when or from where it will come and go? It is not for me to say or to earn, that I shall never boast. It is You who decides.

Until last night, I only asked for You to pull me in nearer again. I'm afraid of me without your peace. It is scary- what I am incapable of without you.

The difference between me and me with You is astounding. You carry me. You lift me up and you take me right where I need to be.

I love that.

And last night I begged for it. I took into consideration that You love that too, and I pleaded for the Spirit to move in me again.

And today You drew near. In random world-filled moments You initiated, and we spoke, and I saw.

And tonight, after a day with family, bonding and hand holding, gift buying and laughter, I filled my Sentsys with new fall scents, turned the lights low and sat down to some Ann. Ann, who once filled me and then months ago all at once read like a foreign language... as if the wind had blown the summer door closed. I read her weekend prayer, and You took me here... and I heard You.

And I looked up into this kitchen, holy temple turned hospital waiting room- and this time I saw it. That warm glow. That halo around everyplace I rested my eyes, again.

I blinked and shook my face and opened wider. I looked around to the half-grown puppy who came new during the stale dry spell, and I even saw the light around her for the first time, ever.

My heart quickened. I read and re-read Your invitation. I traced over the lines of every welcoming word. I breathed deep the promise that such a still hollow season has passed, and I took heed that this kind of gratefulness and worship is the same as anything with You... from You. not me.

I answer yes. Always, and You know this. My lover, my guide, my counselor, my strength... dare I mention, friend.

I pray that this time with you, this pouring in is long and uninterrupted.

And I will rest in You, oh God.

song reference: audrey assad, restless

no talking...

2011-08-24T06:58:00.001-07:00

I've often wondered and prayed about my talkativeness.The answer to that prayer seems to be coming in the form of a supposed virus.

Diagnosed with viral laryngitis, I've been prescribed nothing but hydration, physical rest, and no talking.

No talking.

That's like going to the gym for me.

No talking seems impossible. Whether it's words or song, I've always found it irresistible to fill dead airspace between two or more with sound. There are few special people I can comfortably sit in silence with. I am well known to out-talk the talkiest of talkers.

Of course, I've talked about it. I've concluded in the presence of my closest of friends that I fill space because it is terribly uncomfortable for me to sit in someone else's silence.

During the past few days of no talking for me I have learned so much more about that discomfort. And I continue to learn.

I didn't realize how much I associate silence with bad things.

Silence speaks loud and clear volumes to me.

True or untrue, silence says to me that a person is of one of these models:

unhappy

angry

biting their tongue

holding back

punishing with the "silent treatment"

nervous

skeptical

insecure

feeling unworthy

having low-self esteem

opinionated

brooding

showing distain

sparing people what they really think because it isn't good

untrustworthy

sneaky

hiding

omitting

guilty

in trouble

rude

haughty

arrogant

passing judgment

antisocial

timid

uninteresting

wallflower...

I know that there are connotations that go along with chatty people.

annoying

ignorant

unbridled

having no control

self centered

insecure

over indulgent

etc...

But I am a little of all those things. It's true.

And I'd rather be seen that way than to be misrepresented in silence.

I'm not bitter, insecure, antisocial, untrustworthy, rude, or a liar. I'm not trying to hide something, get away with something, or avoid something. I am right here, available and capable. I'm for you and with you, and although I'm more careful of what I will give you than I might have used to be, I do not withhold myself. I believe you deserve the common courtesy, love, and care that I would extend to anyone created by the same loving Father.

I love to hear your stories, where you came from, what you believe and why. I love to know the details of your heart. It's a treasure to me that I keep locked away in a special place. Sharing leads to loyalty, trust, prayer, and family.

My current required silence is really stretching me.

In the mall when a person wants to talk to me and I have to keep it short and simple, I feel like I've taken something from them.

When my kids sit at the dinner table and no one says anything, I feel like we're missing SO much of each other.

When the phone rings and I have to text the person that I can't talk now, I feel rude.

When a service man comes to the house and I have to stay away so as not to communicate, I feel like I've lost the chance at extending our family.

I feel like words, sharing, encouraging, responding, engaging with interest are all gifts we offer each other. I feel like I'm wrapping gifts and hiding them in the attic to collect dust, right now.

I know there is more to this. I know that what is happening is good for me.

I'm praying through it. Keeping my eyes and ears open. I'm looking for truth and light behind all these ideas and notions that are surfacing about my interpretations of silence vs. sharing.

I know this is an exercise in which for me to learn and grow.

I don't usually do this, but if you have thoughts or ideas on this, prayerfully consider sharing them with me, please. I know my ideas freshly laid out might look a little stiff, close-minded, or even dark. I'm letting them out to stretch with me and hopefully take aim in a little better direction.

I'd love to hear from you. :)

Blessings in silence.

in gratitude for

2011-08-16T18:28:00.000-07:00

an early morning playdate with puppies
two boys' digging deep into a sandbox and their rekindled friendship
a meeting with an old school, straight shooting, high school coach
God's unending love for his children
stopping to turn around and hold a broken one
three days on the calendar for next week with my son's bff
the way his new sister makes him so happy and different- fulfilled
google translate
having her beside me in the kitchen
teaching her to cook
fresh baby lemon-basil clippings for our stuffed manicotti
an early home husband
pandora's paraguayan radio stations
dim lit dinner for a family of four
first pickles
sugar cookies stacked with double berry cheesecake ice cream
the beautiful hum of my maid servants; dishwasher, washing machine, and dryer
pink and cream roses piled high from the weekend welcoming
school things right around the corner
the changing of life, into the unknown
waiting for the unexpected
knowing it will be grand again
something i've never seen before

A Prayer, Please

2011-08-10T04:34:00.001-07:00

My almost six year old son listens to Toby Mac incessantly. One of the songs I hear blaring from his room sings,

"give me that funky Jesus music, give me that soulful gumbo."

I seriously need some Jesus Gumbo right now. I have not been passionate or moved in anything pertaining to my spirit in connection with God in too long.

I'm not feeling dried up. He's very much here, present and involved. It's me who's lacking/slacking.

A couple of months ago time came and swept me up like a tide. And not that I'm less busy now, but I have time back again (if that makes any sense) and I just can't seem to get back "in it". You know?

I had great things rolling for a good stretch before summer. From Ann Voskamp and the gratitude project, to Walking with Him Wednesdays, to some really great books including "The Pursuit of God", to Compassion, to Women Living Well, to a proverbs 31 study which I devoured, to God Speaks, to reading all of your websites which meant SO much to me, to a James study... all right here in my home.

Now, I'm looking out, ready, and I can't snag onto anything I remotely have a heart for.

I should at least be DEEP in prayer, maybe even fasting right now for my family, my parents home front, my husbands work, my son's relationships, my coming FES daughter's travels and readied heart. Barb V, Dolly G, and even me.

But I lay my hands on his deeply breathing chest in the morning and press out a few hard to find words in my half-sleep. I curl around my little one and squeak out the only thing that always comes to me when I ask anything for him -safety and health and that He will be planted deep down and soundly in his little heart, forever. Amen

So, if you could help me if you are reading this: ask God to give me a gentle little nudge into what ever area of Him He has for me next. I want it so badly.

Pray that He gives me what it takes -motivation, fire, passion, inspiration... to get me in that water again.

If you have any ideas or are being moved by something you are in love with these days in Spirit, share it with me would you, please?

Thanks so much for checking in on me.

I hope that all is well with you.

Blessings and love,

Lora

Coming Back to Gratitude (sometimes i really do forget)

2011-08-08T06:11:00.000-07:00

Fresh vegetables from a neighbor.
My 12 year old looking stick-like body, all in working order.

Pug nails, ticking.
One Sunflower filled with seeds and memories.

Having Time back.
Love songs to Him running through my always song stuck mind.
Hot morning coffee.

Baby gates.
The rare but always beautiful landing of a particular forever friend.

Home purging.
Pushing out to bring in.
Being almost there.

Seeing Him again.
A hot summer day poolside with my own son: an old longing dream fulfilled again.

Sundresses.
The way the light streams in.

Paper wings planted like morning kisses.

The recent discovery of a special place nearby.

This one and only. Always.

Thank You God, for all of this.

dreaming of her

2011-08-07T14:36:00.000-07:00

My whole life is consumed by her, right now. Almost everything I do throughout the day is in preparation for our life with her, beginning so soon.

Everything I mark on the calendar I dream of participating in with her.

When I think about going to the sentsy party at Dawn's, I can not wait for her to meet Dawn - for Dawn to meet her - for her to meet sentsy, chose one for her room, smell all the scents and decide which ones she loves.

When I think of going to Apple's class that first Thursday that she is here, I think of her riding in the front seat next to me on the way - seeing the puppy at her best, in working action - meeting Jeff and sitting with Zeek on the benches in class.

When I chop veggies for my weekly pico creation, I wonder if she'll sit across the island and tell me about her school day - if she'll want to chop with me - if she'll love pico and tortilla chips like I do - the ways she might make a change in what I throw together.

I go into her beautiful, pink, girly room and imagine her doing homework at her desk, or laying on her bed with her laptop, or picking out her outfit for a day out with her new family!!! :)

I CAN NOT STOP thinking every single thing with her in it.

The seasons, holidays, events, shows, music, car rides, Packer games, sunsets, evening walks, cooking, eating, movies, gatherings, bon-fires, showing her everything... every single last thing. With her.

Just FIVE more days!

I am completely beside myself.

In His Good Time

2011-07-24T13:02:00.000-07:00

I keep expecting this summer to slow down and become something else- something more still and peaceful. But it just keeps on rushing by.

I look back fondly at the soft easy days of the season just passed- the season that was full of time and God's obvious constant presence. I smile at how I imagined it would stay forever.

These days there isn't time to even wonder if I could re-obtain some of that sweet life.

But this summer has been fun. Full to the brim every day with projects, activities, events, plans plans plans. And I can hardly keep my heartbeat in step with the fast tune of our weeks. I feel like I will only know the beauty of what these days held when I look back. That's not easy when I so love the present of being present. I am missing some of this right now.

But the promises keep being fulfilled. The signs and whispers and reminders still blow through and stop me for a brief moment in my tracks. I snap a photo. TRY to hold on. To muster up some feelings about now.

Then we're quickly slapping together pb&j #482 of the summer, cramming back into the jeep for a dog class, soccer game, swim date, library run, VBS, farmers market, drop off, pick up, groceries, performance, ice cream, beach, park...

All wonderfully exciting, though a bit terribly fast.

I have not missed noticing the women in my life. The women that God has been working on showing me. The ones who are safe and sound. Many who have been here all along. Some new who gently pull up without intentions or claws. Women who have their own lives and don't want to become mine. Women who aren't afraid to make calls and commitments. Women who take care, not suck and drain and steal.

It's amazing how many women are living out their lives with Jesus and not just saying the words. It's amazing how I've seen Him through my time with them- through them.

And the one lone wild turkey went from her wondering solitude to a pair...

Then we spotted her as a group of four... and most recently five!

It's all coming around.
A little later than I expected, but in His good timing.
Always.

Each & Every One

2011-07-05T14:07:00.000-07:00

As I watched the people and children gather together to hula-hoop and enjoy the market, I thought of what it must have been like 50 years ago. For a moment I was transported to an older, safer, more wholesome era.

I snapped a photograph.

As soon as my shutter reopened I felt a sadness for you as reality set in. You will never know those kinds of days. And only God knows what you will live to see.

Then I remembered how blessed we are to be in these times. When we are so clearly getting nearer to the point. Where the motivation to know and serve Him is heightened. In which the honor of being truly set apart will become so apparent.

As I flashed through a scene from the past to this scene in the now, I inhaled knowing that if given a choice all my life I would have chosen today.

Part Two of a Two Part Tail

2011-06-07T19:16:00.001-07:00

My husband has wanted out loud to get second dog at least 20 times in the past two years.

He's always rooting for his favorite breeds: small, with flat faces and lots of wrinkles.

My stance has never wavered. We are not getting another dog.

I always had all the sensible answers to cool off his new-dog longings.

But the truth was no secret with that giant "closed for business" sign on the front door since losing Nemo.

I didn't understand what the big difference was this time when my husband brought up the dog subject, again.

It took the whole process playing out for me to realize what happened. It was like a whirlwind.

In hindsight I know now that this last dog conversation wasn't about what my husband wanted. It was about what he knew was good for me. It was about him knowing that I'm not quite complete without a big dog, and recognizing that this was never going to happen unless someone lovingly started pushing me through the layers of hurt that were holding me back.

When I heard "great dane" and "mastiff" come out of his face, I knew this was some serious stuff.

My husband was not working alone, either. God's peaceful driving moved me to places (and breeder searches) I would not have sought being the stubborn girl who had already made a life decision about this big dog thing.

Apparently, the great dane and bullmastiff that I dreamed of were not the dogs for me. We can find breeders of just about any dog where we are located, and there was not a one reputable, safe-looking find that I could rest in within 150 miles for either breed.

How exactly we started looking for Boxers, I don't remember. We've both always loved them. I guess I just assumed because of their looks that they were somehow dangerous.

Once we looked into them though, all my uneducated assumptions crumbled.

Boxer

A people dog

Devoted to family

Awesome with kids

Fearless and courageous

Good guard dogs

Highly tolerant

Extremely adaptable

We were able to find multiple breeders in our area.

We did our credibility research, and once we were confident about our selection we were making a call and scheduling a visit!!! My husband was being very lovingly pushy by that point.

I was shaking my head, hitting my knees, warning my husband that I may pull the chord at any second if I felt like we needed to backpedal...

and through the immediate rushing waves of fear, the memories of past, the guilt of betrayal to my Nemo, the worry that I wasn't ready to love this dog the way I wanted to love my next dog... there was such a peace and a "yes" that moved my fingers and my mouth and my feet outside of my own will.

On the way to the breeder's I slowed the reeling of my flesh and fearfully turned to God. This is one of those things between us... you know those things you don't really want to look Him in the eye over?

I sought His face, and in mid-prayer received a beautiful confirmation.

When we walked into the kennel, I knew her at first sight.

Greg had explained to Zeek that we were getting a dog for our family, but it was going to be Mommy's dog for the choosing. They stood back and honored that promise as I picked her up and lost myself.

The breeder mama described her as the most submissive of the bunch, and the largest of her litter, born double in size to her brothers and sisters. She also told me how sweet and loving she is, and how she was the one she wanted to keep for herself.

She shared with us our puppy's Mom and Dad.

Duke Rebel Hooch:

the brown one

Sugar Diamond Christie:

I made sure my new baby said good-bye to her Mommy.

We paid and signed the AKC registration, received her medical records, took one last look at her adorable family, and walked with our dog to our Jeep.

I could hardly stand.

I held her and cried the first 10 minutes of our 40 minute ride home.

Most of the following 24 hours with my dog were spent on a roller coaster of emotion. I knew she'd unlocked the "dog love" door, I just was not ready for what it was going to feel like, walking in.

I'm going to doubt anyone in my life thought more of it than I was cuddling, dancing with, singing to and all around getting aquatinted with my new puppy.

But the way she reminds me... the bittersweet way the love crashes into the longing and the awe and joy collide with the pain of his memory.

The puppy's constant snuggling in, with sweet loyal attachment soothes my aching through God's healing, and the soft puppy kisses cushion the tenderness of my hurts.

And I notice how only God could have made this happen this way.

How He knew all along what I had no suspicion of.

What a blessed surprise!

A Two Part Tail

2011-06-06T06:13:00.001-07:00

When he died he took a piece of me with him.

I thought that, like with any other loss, time would heal. But time has not made a dent.

Thankfully, I was at peace with his passing.

He smiled wider than ever on his last day.

I cried harder than I have ever cried in my life.

My spirit mourned.

And although I disobeyed God in keeping (and maybe even getting) my pit bull, Nemo, God blessed me in that I don't just remember Nemo with my mind, but with all my senses.

I remember the way it felt to look into his eyes and know that my everything hidden and deep down away was well understood.

The way it felt to sit on the floor and wrap my arms up and around his big neck.

To feel his chin push into my shoulder.

The way the little flaps at the corners of his ears were so soft -a perfect fit for the balls of my thumbs when I rubbed his head.

I remember every trace of the bones and muscle under his warm soft coat.

The way he smelled.

The way his giant clumsy paws would stomp my wrist or leg while he tried to figure out how we could get closer than physically possible.

Somehow, when I close my eyes to dream him up

I can remember him, exactly as if he were right here.

I swore all kinds of incredibly sad and wrong things when I drove away from the building he lay to rest in, three years ago. I shut tight my love-for-dogs door, and I walked away "better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all".

I decided for myself, in honor of my love (and guilt) for Nemo, that all the dogs left were just dogs from there on, and my heart for them was closed.

A year later we got her:

We took Yuki home knowing God's blessing was on us in our adoption of her. Knowing she would be our sweet girl for a long long time. And I enjoyed her at best in the beginning.

I was grateful for my son to have his puppy after what he'd been through.

Over the years Yuki has made her way in me. Nothing like Nemo-love, but a very special brand of Yuki-love. She's not really a "dog" in my eyes. She's a gift. A Bugg born the day I said good-bye to my Nemo on earth, forever.

She's my little girl. My sweet lady.

And she's my son's dog.

I have thought about having a big dog again. When I'm all grown up, and I'm light years away from the cracked up broken mess behind the caution tape and deadbolt closed door.

I dream of my late-in-life dog, how he would sniff and romp around in the reeds while I fish, lay on the front porch while I watch the sunset and reflect back on my long and beautiful life... how he would be there, sharing in the place where Nemo once filled completely. How my heart would prayerfully be available again, so I could love him and let him love me.

Those dreams and my vivid memories of Nemo are what have gotten me by without a dog of my own.

To be continued...

In the Quiet

2011-05-31T10:37:00.002-07:00

I'm in a different season right now. A time I didn't see coming.

It is full -sometimes busy -sometimes slow for the taking.

I am aching to grow again in an area I've known God's calling in the past. An area I've failed over and over again. Can't I just cut off my tongue? "Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing." (James3:10)

I also find myself consistently asking Him to lead me into putting and leaving Him center at all times. It's not easy coming out of this driver's seat, letting go of all the structure and planning of a perfectionist. Yet, I'm reminded that "whoever finds their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for (His) sake will find it." (Matt10:39) So, why can't I stop trying to keep up with and hold onto my life?

I've tasted being over myself. I've been sick to death of me many times. But how many more will it take for me to just it give up permanently? Isn't asking over and over the same as signing on the dotted line? What in my heart stops this process, and can We dig it up and throw it out for good?

Although, the quiet inward is the only way for me to go forward for now, I am guilt ridden not to be here in this space, writing and sharing as usual. I think of it every single day. Of you, and your encouraging words and stories...

I know that you are gracious and forgiving.

I pray that all is well in your hearts and homes.

I will be back as soon as the time comes.

Blessings,

Lora

God Speaks... & sometimes there's more to come

2011-05-16T06:48:00.000-07:00

Last year, I spent most of my days with a group of girlfriends.

We did everything together. Moms, with our little ones in tow.

We formed something sacred and special I will never forget.

Something that has since ended, leaving me still, shell-shocked

and content these days being on my own.

The wild turkey,

who usually roam in pairs of females with their poults,

could be seen last year throughout the day,

crossing our yard, drive and street.

They roamed as a pack of five moms, with a total of 19 babies.

These were unusual numbers and caused

quite the excitement in our neighborhood.

I imagined this could only lead to another year of the same,

if not more.

This year, I can't help but feel the tinge of correlation

between myself and the only female turkey we've seen yet.

A single turkey (a new type of unusual)

who roams alone, day and night through our wood.

Our kindred nature draws me to her condition.

I wonder about her story. How she came to roam, alone.

I wonder about how He will use this bird again

when this perseverance has finished it's work in me.

And when I find a lone seed, half out of dirt,

the sprouting of new life from within brings Truth:

I do.

___________________________________

He fell in love with her~

the foster kittens' mama.

Who would have thought, those kittens

would not be the ones to steal his heart?

For as many times as he'd prayed

to God for his very own cat,

sorrow filled his heart when the time came to let go.

Days passed, and we visited the shelter where the kittens were

awaiting their adopting families, without their mama.

Their mama who was to be picked up by her rescuer, days earlier.

Much to our surprise, that mama cat was there!

She was hiding under a cage,

scared, hurting from surgery, and lost.

Lost without her boy...

her boy, whose every dream of a forever cat

came true when we immediately adopted her
and brought her home with us!

___________________________________

And lastly this week,

if you recall the camera dilemma,

it turned out that this story, too, was not over
when it first seemed that the door was closed.

The day after I wrote that post, I got a call from a web artist

who included me as the sole photographer for a commercial shoot

in a bid he had placed, months prior.

After I had given him my quote for the job

I thought nothing more of it.

I assumed by this time, someone else

had gotten the contract.

It turned out that not only did the guy get the contract,

but we would need to schedule the photo shoot

within the month!

My profit from this opportunity would more than cover

half the cost of the kind of camera I would

now have to purchase to do this kind of work.

Combined with the profit I would make in

photographing a wedding the last weekend in May,

my dream camera would be well paid for!

And so...

my new baby.

What areas of your life are you waiting on God's

good and perfect finishing touches?

Where are you celebrating the "more" that came

from what once seemed to have passed?

I love to read your stories! :)

God Speaks... and sometimes what He says hurts

2011-05-09T14:40:00.001-07:00

As many mistakes as I've made as a parent, I've always felt good knowing that since the moment our son was born I have been right here. Not just physically, but in every single awestruck way.

For some reason it has been my passion that I would not miss one bit of this time I have with Ezekiel.

I've always felt that I will get back my days of freedom to run around, fulfill other dreams, travel, and career for myself...

but this is my one little guy.

This is my once in a lifetime chance with him.

As flawed as I can be at the many facets of parenting, I can say surely that have given Motherhood everything I've got.

That's what makes this next part so hard.

This weekend, my son and I set out intentionally to take his photograph for the first time in over six months.

Yesterday morning, Mothers' Day, I downloaded the photos off my camera.

As I went through each picture I learned a lot about my son, myself, how I've been approaching our relationship and even how I've been spending my time lately.

The lesson stung.

The last time I took Zeek's photos, just six months ago, I knew him through and through. In each photo I recognized his every look, smirk, twinkle, gaze... nothing was unfamiliar or new to me.

So when I looked at the photographs I took this weekend and I didn't fully recognize the little boy in those pictures, my heart ached.

It hurt that I was seeing him, who is right in front of me everyday, a little better through his still frames.

It hurt most of all to be enlightened through some of the looks on his face, the revealing in his eyes, to some of the ways I've been letting him down lately.

I reflected back on our session, recalling some of my harsh words toward him;

"you can squat down like a big boy or you can sit like a baby, whatever you're more comfortable with... This is an empty farm yard, Zeek. No one lives here. There are no animals left to worry about!...I don't know why you can't just stand behind that door and peek out? COME ON. put your arms down, that looks silly... you're face looks like this right now, do you really think that's going to make a good photograph?..."

Yes, I am crying and humiliated to be writing this.

Yes, I hate myself for putting stupid things before my son, like photographs, and what I want, and how I want it.

I'm so grateful to God for using these pictures and the early Mothers' Day morning hours to shed light on the direction my Motherhood and relationship with my son was headed.

I'm saddened but grateful to have seen this weekend:

that as independent, smart, and sure as he's becoming,

he's still very young and has a lot of growing up to do,

that as scared and unsure as I am about my abilities to parent such a child,

I'm still his one and only Mom,

that although I experience and respond to his million questions,

he is deep and full with another set of secret questions,

questions that aren't being asked out loud.

These hidden questions are about himself.

Like, is he worthy?

Is he strong?

Is he good enough?

Can he measure up?

Is he okay?

And I realized that I have not been answering these special questions very well -with my high expectations, sarcasm and the manipulation of my reverse psychology.

I assumed he KNEW how incredible he is. He acts like he knows.

I'd worn out of better ideas and thrown in the towel, and I didn't even know it.

I'd decided that a boy who could have this kind of attitude, this lip, this kind of ungrateful gumption needed a heavy parent.

I started sternly laying down the law, saying yes or no, period.

I stopped listening to his debates and arguments, and reverted to "because I said so" and "that is that."

I was acting out of fear that I would otherwise be failing him to let him stomp about, an only child, making all the decisions for himself, fighting tooth and nail for every right he has and doesn't have.

I thought he would never grow up to be a good man if someone didn't push him away from his toggling between bully and princess (please hold the hate mail- I know that's ignorant -I'm just being honest)

On Mother's Day Sunday, when I realized I didn't know my fast growing son in my latest photographs of him, I knew God was giving me a heads-up. It knew that it was time to make some changes.

So, I put down the armor, hard parenting, tough love, and pushing, and I showed up for the day just being his loving Mom, again. Period.

The gifts that followed filled my Mothers Day with light, life, tears of joy, gentleness, kindness, peace... starting to sound familiar?

As I spent time with him, really looking into him and tending to him, I watched the little glimpses of awesome treasure in my son's character slowly peek out as he began to trust me with himself more and more.

I would have never thought that I could put on a superficial parent-front with him, during which time I daily remembered my gratitude for him but began to completely miss the boat on the moment to moment becoming of the boy, himself.

With God's Grace, my son's resilience, and this new lesson in my pocket, I am moving forward to rebuild this relationship between he and I. To take back the perspective that there is a little person happening here right before my eyes. I pray that I will further understand that just watching and pushing isn't going to be enough.

I need to love, look and see.

This is the only time we will be together this way.

God, please do not let me lose sight!

God Speaks

2011-05-02T08:29:00.001-07:00

I sit down with His gift box in front of me. I can't even see what it is.
I'm at a loss for what to write, what to share, how and where to dig out a lesson from my week.

Does God turn away in disappointment that I'm too blind to see His present for me? Does he sit and wait for me to figure it out on my own? Does he storm off with my prize wishing I were only better at this?

No. God is SO incredible to meet me here so faithfully every Monday morning.And if I can't find the gift, if I can't wrap my hands around it and start to peel back the wrapping, He does it for me!?

It's amazing to watch Him unfold His beautiful Truth and lessons out of my week, right before my very eyes, flowing from Him through me, off my fingertips onto this computer screen. WOW.

I only humbly put my own name to this.

Phillipians 4:11-13

My best camera took on a rainstorm

from the hood of my Jeep a couple of weeks ago.

As much as I've wanted a new camera, I deeply hoped

the water hadn't taken away the option of my frugality

(that's the nice way we refer to my being utterly cheap).

But the effects were obvious, and the only solution

seemed to be the purchasing of a new camera of its class.

Mid-week, God had His say, and I cried

through an evening of strong conviction setting in.

Though affordable, this expense was not part of the plan.

On the contrary, we have been in saving and preparing mode.

Buying a replacement camera, in fact, would derailed

a plan that God clearly set into motion in our household.

I called my husband who was out, and explained how I was feeling.

He agreed that we revert back to plan A: trusting and following our Guide.

The camera order was cancelled the next morning.

And the beauty is uncovered in the current consensus

that my doused Nikon D80 has quite possibly never worked so well.

It's not that my camera was or wasn't affected or compromised by the water. It's not whether or not I was blessed with a supernatural camera healing...

See, when I fell in love with photography five years ago, all I knew was the Holy Spirit and a Fuji FinPix. Some How heavenly light was capturing beautiful life through a virgin eye and an uncertain, shaky shutter finger.

I knew nothing about f-stop, aperture, white balance, ISO, metering...

Three and half years ago, I took matters into my own hands and "learned the ropes". Immediately afterward, I felt the union slipping away. I knew I'd put myself in the drivers seat, and as much as I begged, there was no turning back.

My only Peace in the tension was the understanding that it would just be a long ride before I would have another stop in which He would offer to trade seats again.

As disapointed as I was to have lost the connection, I knew He would be Faithful to grow me in this time. I knew that it would be worth every second alone behind the lens before our Chinese fire drill.

God is so good. He is so much fun.

His passion and timing fills me to the brim.

And these such blessings follow every act of obedience.

Behind every test is a testimony in waiting!

Have you entered my giveaway?

We're drawing a winner Friday, 5/6!

5 Minutes Flat

2011-04-29T20:23:00.001-07:00

As Lisa-Jo describes her 5 minute Friday game,

"On Fridays around these parts we have a little tradition. We throw caution (editing, revising, and worrying) to the winds and just write. Without wondering if it’s just right or not... For five minutes flat."

So here goes:
Something fairly common made it's mark on my life a few months ago.

Since then, I've folded inward.

At first, I thought that meant I was closing up and hardening, and I hoped it would pass like a phase.
But it turns out that all the things I disliked and even feared about folding in aren't so bad after all.

There's a sweetness about it. A quiet, safe, life-altering, truth finding security.

A little less vocal- a little more watchful

A little less raw - a little more tender

A little less bare - a little more reserved

a little less out there - a little more in here

And I'm safe like this. I didn't particularly want an axe to fall and sever me from what I'd known of social and relational. But there's no growing like the kind that leaps out from the mess of a hack job. And there's no knowing like the One who let me come to this pass. The Only One I trust to see me through.

{{Stop.}}

God Speaks

2011-04-25T11:57:00.000-07:00

We gather, the six of us.

We've done this unintentionally, for years.

We lean in, lean on one other.

We support each other, fully.

We stand for Him, and He ignites the fire.

That fire brings us now,

intentionally.

__________________________________________

My little guy invites me to be five everyday.

He shows me how to never worry about the big things.

He teaches me how to throw my head back and laugh at the little things.

He reminds me how good it feels to believe we are safe.

__________________________________________

In the years of waiting, I dreamed of this.

When it would not happen, I prayed for it.

Though my kitchen sink then faced a solid wall,

I envisioned the day I would do dishes & look out the window in front of me

to see my own child running, playing outside in our yard.

I never imagined it would feel so good.

God is so good.

__________________________________________

Entering

2011-04-22T04:11:00.000-07:00

Easter week is here again, and last year I promised God and myself that it would be different this time. I was going to do this right with Him, with my family.

For the first 10 years that I've been aware of my Salvation in Jesus, I've struggled with a lack of focus on Him during Christmas and Easter holidays.

I've always pushed the blame for this on the etched habits of my secular upbringing, our obligations to family and cultural traditions... but this year I'm learning a hard humbling lesson:
I have been dead wrong.

Because nothing can stand in the way of me celebrating Jesus (Romans 8:38-39).

God doesn't require me to lock myself or my family away for days on end to be with Him. He doesn't need me to partake in a ceremonial cleansing to make myself fit for his presence. I don't have to travel to a temple, or even light a candle.

The facts are all here in my head. I just have to click on "transfer" and impart them onto my heart. I just have to pray that He will continue to make newness of this Life in Him, and then watch the New Life begin to grow. (2 Corinthians 5:17)

These Christ centered holidays should be the easiest times to be in the presence of God. They set the perimeters around a specific Sacred event for which we can focus on, together... and all we have to do is enter.

And when I do, my own walk becomes enriched as I meditate on the life of Jesus and His journey to the cross, for me.

The Truth:

I've fallen short. (Romans 3:23)

The Father knows it. (Ezekiel 11:5)

Sin has it's consequences. (Romans 6:23)

God sends His only Son, my friend, Jesus. (John 15:13-14)

And what's worse than giving your own self to die but to ask your only son to die right before your eyes?

And Jesus showed, and stopped the trial right from under me. (John 18:28-40)

He stuck out His Hand to take on the mess that kept me from Our Father...
He asked to wear my sins and stand trial in my place.

And what would be worse than to hear your own son plead for you to let the cup pass, knowing full well your very will for him to drink of it?

(Matthew 26:42)

But Jesus traded with me...
the cost of my flesh for the chance that I'd leave it behind to follow Him.

(1 Peter 2:24)

And He fully paid my penalty, The Lamb of complete atonement,
that I could stand before Him, spotless.

(John 1:29)

It was a brutal trial.

There was spitting for my calloused heart.
But the spit ran down His face.

(Matthew 26:67)

There was beating for my stubborn refusal.
But the blows pummeled my Redeemer.

(Luke 22:63)

There was mockery and humiliation for my pride.
But they stripped, jeered at, and taunted my own Brother in my place.

(Matthew 27:29)

There was an abandoning from The Father.

And what would be worse than asking your son to wear the ugly, suffer the brutality, die young, and to have you turn your back on Him in his final moment of earth life?
But it was done, and it was His Son who He turned His Face from. (Matthew 27:46)

There was spearing for my impurity.
But it was He who took the blade.(John 19:34)

There is the gift of freedom for me, at 33 years old,
but He was dead for 3 days, at 33 years, to make that way for me. (Ephesians 2:8-9)

And I don't need to wear a fancy dress, or wash behind my kid's ears. I don't have to find a rock and throw myself across it for the night. I don't have to steal away to count, recite, or stand-sit-kneel. I don't have to moo, or hop on one foot, or offer a ram for slaughter.

The Truth is, I can look for Him right here in the kitchen, in my pajamas, with my bed-head and my broken Nikon. I can trace the nails with my trembling gratitude wrapped in shame for my partaking. I can receive the forgiveness and lose myself in His Mercy, nose down in my own stinky living room carpeting.

I can return to my feet, grab this camera, and ask that He will bless me to find Him in this very place. (Matthew 7:7-8)

The veil is torn. (Matthew 27:51)

The simple Truth:
No matter the eggs, or bunnies... the holy oils or monasteries,
Our God is right here. Always.

Where can I go from Your Spirit?

Or where can I flee from Your presence?

If I ascend to heaven, You are there;

If I make my bed in Sheol, behold, You are there.

If I take the wings of the dawn,

If I dwell in the remotest part of the sea,

Even there Your hand will lead me,

And Your right hand will lay hold of me.

~Psalm 139:7-10

God Speaks

2011-04-18T04:28:00.000-07:00

Last week was a little rough.

My tiny guy was sick with strep throat and a fever. He stayed in my bed for three days straight...

Then, he got well and drove me crazy!

I stressed out a little over some dental work I had done. I did not like the appearance of two front crowns I had done. Though I absolutely loved the temporaries I wore for 10 days, the permanent ones did not look like me.

I have an appointment scheduled today to hear my options.

I also took a personality test that my husband and I bought last weekend at a marriage seminar, and I did not like my results.

We learned that this test has the potential of unlocking some important information about us that would not only help us deal with other people better, but also help us see and aim for the potential we truly have in God's plan for our lives.

There are four countries you can be from; Control, Fun, Perfect, or Peace. I was excited to take the test. I just knew I would be from control country. I couldn't wait for the validation.

Instead, I got stamped as a native of "Perfect" country! And it nearly took me the whole week to feel okay about it... to see how this really is true, though often confused for controlling... and finally to laugh at myself a little as I recognize the crazy perfectionism type things that go through my mind in a day.

I was desperate to receive His whispers and promises by the end of the week. As always, God soothes my stress and turns my disappointment into gratitude:

I bought these tangelos, but no body wanted them.

I couldn't figure out what to do with them,

but they were beautiful in the bowl.

So I waited and let them sit.

Passing time spurred an urgency to use them before it was too late...

As I was feeling useless and unwanted for anything worthy in the Kingdom,
I became more restless about finding purpose and direction for my life.

It took some time, but by the end of the week I had finally
relinquished myself, my character, my "Perfectionism"
back into the arms of my King.

Ready and willing to sit and wait.

__________________________________________________________

While these tangelos yielded us two mornings of

delicious, fresh squeezed juice that everyone wanted...

I know that God is great enough to see His plans for my life unfold

into something of good use for His people.

__________________________________________________________

As I plead to God for a way out of myself,

this "gem" of perfectionism now sticking out at me like a sore thumb,

I turn the corner, reach for my coupon file and

look down at this sweet sunlit message:

Laugh, girl!

All in this week amounts to great joy when the songs

of my troubles sound a symphony of His

perfect plan for this life.

And tear streaked, I laugh grateful praises.

"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord.

Plans to prosper you and not to harm you.

Plans to give you hope and a future."

~Jeremiah 29:11

Amen

God Speaks

2011-04-11T04:28:00.000-07:00

Through the planter turned cookie jar instead...

I have seen that He can fulfill the secret desires of my heart

where there are otherwise no keys to unlock them.

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Through a seemingly too-good-to-be-true friendship

through which I have been rescued time and time again...

He reminds me that there is always one perfect place for my heart.

That even when it seems impossible, He is here,

rescuing me over and over again.

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That God will pour in when I'm least expecting to see His path for me.

That He will flood my life with His Light and Truth in areas
rarely touched by anything much less His powerfully rushing waters.

That He would make a spectacle for me of His wonders and His great big vast capacity
to make way for His Streams of Life in me.

I stand at the edge of myself, in awe of Him again.

God Speaks

2011-04-04T05:02:00.000-07:00

Through the staking of a long loved plant (meet Tina)...

I'm encouraged knowing that just as Tina will stand straighter
and point higher as a result of her recent temporary support,
this practice of leaning in to hear where God Speaks through the everyday
using photographs, jottings, and sharing here
will lead me straight into forming such a practice by habit.
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Through a plate of apple peels and core
waiting to be brought to our guinea pig...

I'm reminded of the way God gently peels each layer of me,
taking time to let every Truth penetrate deeper to the core.

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him,
who have been called according to his purpose." (Romans 8:28)

Nothing is wasted.
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When I round the corner in my craft room my attention is drawn
to the cross in the center of my inspiration wall.
One ray of light beams direction straight to it's base.

I smile, joyed that He is the center of my life,
that He dwells in the walls of our home
and is Home in the walls of our hearts.

He shines amidst it all, from family to fashion,
beaconing for us to leave it all here
at the foot of the cross.
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