It’s the ugly truth. I love BUT! Or sometimes I hate it, depending on how I’m using it. And if you’re a little goofy like me, just saying BUT makes me wanta giggle. So what’s up with BUT?
Let me count the ways. I can be a huge, miry mess BUT God can pull me out. I get bored with long sermons (unless it’s a doozy of a whopper one) BUT I always long to hear from Him. At times, my weight goes up and down like a yo-yo BUT His weights against me are gracious. I have a very weak (and ugly) spot for salsa and chips BUT He loves me despite my salsa breath. I lose my Mommy patience and lose IT for a moment BUT I’m never lost to Him. Gray days strung in a row get me down BUT He shines on me. So many other beautiful BUTs out there. You get the idea.
Those are the good ones. It’s those other times when I’m wrong or I know I need to apologize. Why can’t I just say sorry? Oh no, not me. My ‘BUT’ gets in the way, no pun intended. What would I do without my ‘BUT’?
My Hubby is the one who probably hears it most. Yes, he’s rather familiar with the word from my little ‘BUT’y lips. He hears: I would, BUT... I’m sorry, BUT... I was wrong, BUT... We could, BUT... You’re plans are fine, BUT... You wanta do what!?! BUT... Your ideas (Hubby) are my big BUTs.
I use BUT as a crux for crushing dreams with reality. Come on, we all live there, right? In reality. BUT dreams are birthed in imagination so reality hasn’t begun for them. Yet when Hubby shares them, I pounce my BUTs on them. Then I breathe a sigh of relief. Because dreams scare me, especially when they belong to someone else. Big plans need to be tamed down to smaller ones, as far as I’m concerned. (un)Thankfully, BUT is there to help me through. I hate THOSE BUTs.
The worst BUT offender: Justifying Myself. Why do I insist on explaining myself like I’m on trial? I’m sorry BUT I had a (real good) reason. I was wrong, BUT.
If I were to face Jesus and say I know I sinned BUT….. BUT nothing. My flesh wants to keep the big, bad, BUT. I use it & I repeat it for my feel good, justifying, dream squashing self. Since I'm still wallowing here, I will be in BUT therapy. Hoping the Great Physician will mericifully temper my BUTs and replace them with His beautiful WORDs. No pun intended BUT am I the only one with BUT problems?? If you’re a BUT-reformed gal, throw some pearly wisdom my way. And please be kind to my BUTward ways. Thank you. :-)
Ps. I know many a sentence may sound like a pun, BUT seriously, I didn't intend it that way. So if you were offended in any way, I'm sorry. Hmmm, I hope this explaination doesn't classify as another example of my justification. As you can tell, lots of HIS therapy will be required.
what's invisible is visible in all of creation and this is where I speak of the supernatural among the natural. (Psalm 19:1-4, Colossians 1:15-16, Romans 1:20)
Friday, January 29, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Wonder Woman Complex--It's Hard Work
There's this wee, little problem of mine: I. Am. Not. Jesus. "Can I get a witness?" Yea I just testified against myself. Witnesses are just for humbling me.
So why do I try to be? Perhaps it’s from childhood, “saving” a sister from an abusive father. Or times of whipping out Wonder Woman to “save” Mommy when anger erupted into an ugly monster. Where strangling fear could paralyze if allowed and many times did. Back in the days when her name was still Mommy, before maturing to the Mother stage. With maturity comes strength, etiquette, and maybe a little power, right? Never mind I was still a young 9 years when graduating to “Mother” (by choice). Did I think it’d change something?
There in my heart are a million ways to “save” people. And I don’t mean like salvation to Heaven, but hey, if I could, I’m there. No, I’m talking about “saving” loved ones who walk through hard times. Ones close to me like friends and family. Admittedly there have been those odd times I’ve even wanted to “save” strangers.
I wonder now if my problem derived from all those “Wonder Woman” shows I used to watch. The same show I won’t let my boys touch with a ten-foot, barely clad, dare-I-say, busty pole. Maybe it’s from “Electric Woman and Dyno Girl” and if you don’t know what that is, just think “Wonder Woman” wannabes.
Regardless the cause, there is a cure. It’s called—stop. Stop being something I’m not (‘cause it’s fake). Stop being strong all the time (‘cause I’m not). Stop trying to save (‘cause I can’t). Stop hiding myself (‘cause it’s not about me). Stop covering my past (‘cause it’ll never be perfect). Stop sheltering my kids (‘cause they’re His to shelter ). Just Stop. And let Him start.
I’ve got the skills for it. I do drive a car. There’s a lot of starting and stopping involved. Had license since 16, driven on the OTHER side of the road (It was normal in Japan. Really.) Even had a European license and then drove on their roads. Are you scared yet?
I start, again. Releasing my grip. Because, truth be told, my “salvation” stinks to high Heaven. It’s full of a bunch of flesh wrapped up in a little girl trying to do it in her strength. Learning His salvation is better than mine; where His love casts out fear. It’s ok to be weak . I give myself permission. He gives YOU permission. Because it’s in our weakness, His strength is perfected. Likewise, our weakness gives rest in grace and it is sufficient. For now.....
9 And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness….” 2 Corinthians 12:9
For other Saturday reads click on the picture above.
This came at a divine time as I'd already written the above words when I read this question at "Heart to Heart with Holley". TODAY'S QUESTION: What's one little thing that helps you give God the red pen and make peace with who you are? ANSWER: Lay down His red pen of "saving" (even for wonder women) and accepting my weakness. It's ok because my weakness is where HE meets me.
Ps. My Mom eventually left this violent cycle and remarried a person who's been Dad for many years since this. As for the past, it swims in grace and forgiveness.
So why do I try to be? Perhaps it’s from childhood, “saving” a sister from an abusive father. Or times of whipping out Wonder Woman to “save” Mommy when anger erupted into an ugly monster. Where strangling fear could paralyze if allowed and many times did. Back in the days when her name was still Mommy, before maturing to the Mother stage. With maturity comes strength, etiquette, and maybe a little power, right? Never mind I was still a young 9 years when graduating to “Mother” (by choice). Did I think it’d change something?
There in my heart are a million ways to “save” people. And I don’t mean like salvation to Heaven, but hey, if I could, I’m there. No, I’m talking about “saving” loved ones who walk through hard times. Ones close to me like friends and family. Admittedly there have been those odd times I’ve even wanted to “save” strangers.
I wonder now if my problem derived from all those “Wonder Woman” shows I used to watch. The same show I won’t let my boys touch with a ten-foot, barely clad, dare-I-say, busty pole. Maybe it’s from “Electric Woman and Dyno Girl” and if you don’t know what that is, just think “Wonder Woman” wannabes.
Regardless the cause, there is a cure. It’s called—stop. Stop being something I’m not (‘cause it’s fake). Stop being strong all the time (‘cause I’m not). Stop trying to save (‘cause I can’t). Stop hiding myself (‘cause it’s not about me). Stop covering my past (‘cause it’ll never be perfect). Stop sheltering my kids (‘cause they’re His to shelter ). Just Stop. And let Him start.
I’ve got the skills for it. I do drive a car. There’s a lot of starting and stopping involved. Had license since 16, driven on the OTHER side of the road (It was normal in Japan. Really.) Even had a European license and then drove on their roads. Are you scared yet?
I start, again. Releasing my grip. Because, truth be told, my “salvation” stinks to high Heaven. It’s full of a bunch of flesh wrapped up in a little girl trying to do it in her strength. Learning His salvation is better than mine; where His love casts out fear. It’s ok to be weak . I give myself permission. He gives YOU permission. Because it’s in our weakness, His strength is perfected. Likewise, our weakness gives rest in grace and it is sufficient. For now.....
9 And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness….” 2 Corinthians 12:9
For other Saturday reads click on the picture above.
This came at a divine time as I'd already written the above words when I read this question at "Heart to Heart with Holley". TODAY'S QUESTION: What's one little thing that helps you give God the red pen and make peace with who you are? ANSWER: Lay down His red pen of "saving" (even for wonder women) and accepting my weakness. It's ok because my weakness is where HE meets me.
Ps. My Mom eventually left this violent cycle and remarried a person who's been Dad for many years since this. As for the past, it swims in grace and forgiveness.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Finding Dad
Trodding to meadows oozing from long ago rains, Hubby and Analytical Son set on their journey among sleeping grasses and bare trees. Returning skies of gray, display clouds in an unusual array. Cool air breezes greet them on their path away from little farmhouse. Where many a soft ground gives way under foot, boots gathering wet, brown earth. Nature calls them out, birds singing, hawks hovering, field mice running, deer eating, Sammy dog sniffing, Daddy & Son walking. They go.
Younger, Warrior Son not wanting to venture out in such slush, stays behind. For a little while. He thinks a long moment, then asks, “Mom, Where’s Dad?” A missed opportunity now dawning on him. “They went outside. Remember? You didn’t want to go. To muddy.” I explain.
Little warrior feet now running through our farmhouse, then out. There. Where slimey surfaces saturate and transfer grimey goo to cowboys and boots they walk in.
With Daddy and other Son long gone, younger Son must wait for them. But he doesn’t. Young in years, but bold in temperament and a little confident in “warrior” skills, he set out to those meadows. To where I don’t know, because I never knew he went. Until he returned from the east meadow.
My little warrior Son searched for Dad, he now tells me. Looked in meadows and by newly rebuilt ponds, to no avail. No Dad. No Analytical Son, known to him as brother. Alone with a stick, young Son braved wild animals and lone tracks made by little warrior boots. Or so I thought. Someone else was there, he excitedly explains. While still grappling with the lone distance he’d gone, away in hidden grasses, and “what if’s” bursting through my head, he exclaims “Mom, I felt the Lord with me!”
While walking in wide open spaces and squishy earth, traversing vast steps of oneness, the LORD stepping there too. Finding Dad, was where he found Eternal Dad. Among sleepy meadows, creation speaking of HIM, like the water seeping from the earth. Dad, Abba joined this little heart’s journey. A heart that longed to be with Dad and found it.
Younger, Warrior Son not wanting to venture out in such slush, stays behind. For a little while. He thinks a long moment, then asks, “Mom, Where’s Dad?” A missed opportunity now dawning on him. “They went outside. Remember? You didn’t want to go. To muddy.” I explain.
Little warrior feet now running through our farmhouse, then out. There. Where slimey surfaces saturate and transfer grimey goo to cowboys and boots they walk in.
With Daddy and other Son long gone, younger Son must wait for them. But he doesn’t. Young in years, but bold in temperament and a little confident in “warrior” skills, he set out to those meadows. To where I don’t know, because I never knew he went. Until he returned from the east meadow.
My little warrior Son searched for Dad, he now tells me. Looked in meadows and by newly rebuilt ponds, to no avail. No Dad. No Analytical Son, known to him as brother. Alone with a stick, young Son braved wild animals and lone tracks made by little warrior boots. Or so I thought. Someone else was there, he excitedly explains. While still grappling with the lone distance he’d gone, away in hidden grasses, and “what if’s” bursting through my head, he exclaims “Mom, I felt the Lord with me!”
While walking in wide open spaces and squishy earth, traversing vast steps of oneness, the LORD stepping there too. Finding Dad, was where he found Eternal Dad. Among sleepy meadows, creation speaking of HIM, like the water seeping from the earth. Dad, Abba joined this little heart’s journey. A heart that longed to be with Dad and found it.
A literal WALK with Him this Wednesday. One that'd make any Mama's heart smile. And can make yours smile too, because He wants to walk with you.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Savoring Hope
Sunshine glimmers again, between days of gray
Holding onto rays of brightness
Warming, sparkling, hope between the rays.
Unwrapping and holding the lightness
savoring it’s sweet promise, longing it’s stay
whispering words, ancient and timeless
dim skies replaced by joy bursting in the day.
--Written by Tammy
Unwrapping this Tuesday: Hope. In sunshine and brightness, it bubbles up inside, His promises. Where hope and joy mingle.
"...Weeping may endure for a night,
But joy comes in the morning."
Psalm 30:5 NKJSunday, January 24, 2010
Marathon Life—No Sprinting Allowed
When fast it comes the days to go
a sprint from morn to night
only last the distance so
if short the end in sight.
Continue on this pace to be
many a day to come
naught a rest to relieve
the weary place of some.
On it goes beyond the end
the finish long behind
to hurry in a day to send
a list stacked up a line.
But it comes like I knew
this weary at my door
minutes of rest but a few
grabs me by the core.
So it is, a time of rest
the pace to match my day
where refreshed is my blessed
those times among the fray.
a sprint from morn to night
only last the distance so
if short the end in sight.
Continue on this pace to be
many a day to come
naught a rest to relieve
the weary place of some.
On it goes beyond the end
the finish long behind
to hurry in a day to send
a list stacked up a line.
But it comes like I knew
this weary at my door
minutes of rest but a few
grabs me by the core.
So it is, a time of rest
the pace to match my day
where refreshed is my blessed
those times among the fray.
--Tammy
If you know how my week went, you probably read "Jumper Cables Please". So no surprise my poem is on resting and not sprinting. But rather pacing myself through life and each day. And this is also where my gratitude starts.
44. Rest
45. A Hubby who recognizes the importance of a rested wife and mother.
46. 30 minutes of dreams.
47. Pajamas
48. Big fluffy pillows
49. The hum of a fan
50. Closing weary eyes
51. Stretching achy limbs
52. Relieve from parent duty to seclude to a bedroom
53. Waking renewed and finding day still left to enjoy
54. Living life with the energy to appreciate it
55. God’s refreshing Word, one that’s sweeter with rest
45. A Hubby who recognizes the importance of a rested wife and mother.
46. 30 minutes of dreams.
47. Pajamas
48. Big fluffy pillows
49. The hum of a fan
50. Closing weary eyes
51. Stretching achy limbs
52. Relieve from parent duty to seclude to a bedroom
53. Waking renewed and finding day still left to enjoy
54. Living life with the energy to appreciate it
55. God’s refreshing Word, one that’s sweeter with rest
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Homeschooling Grace--Lacking Love In Public Places
Grace is an ingredient we tend to leave out when strong feelings are involved. As in the case of homeschooling. Because yes, there are strong feelings on both sides of the proverbial fence. One of which, I’ve been on (the fence) and have also visited both sides.
We homeschool now. But I stress for now, like today. Because it is day to day, year to year, a choice. One we feel directed by our relationship with the Lord for OUR family. Not yours. That’s the point. Our family is not your family, so HIS input is needed for each of us.
As homeschoolers there are concerns from others about the socialization of our boys. So does that mean we, the parents, are a bad influence? I know it’s really not what's meant. Most likely it’s in regard to “socializing” them with society, as in kids, the larger the group the better. I assume, anyway. In fact my boys have plenty of friends. Ones they visit and see more now than when they were in a private Christian school or even when the oldest was in public school. Yea, that’s right, public school. The other side of the fence.
That year in public school, I saw other homeschooling Moms. Making the transition to public school, struggling with what others thought of them, their family. Because quite frankly, their homeschooling friends didn’t think it best, perhaps even shunned public school, maybe even them (I don't know). I myself, just overcoming my own fears of public school as I enrolled my oldest in his first year after years of being in a "safe" Christian school. After all public school is evil, right? But so is the world we live in.
As for us, we like our “bubble”some would call homeschooling. All I know: this is where God has us, for now. We are no longer doing things based on fear, it’s simply based on HIM. Finding what GOD has for YOUR family, individually is what’s important. Because, in case we’ve forgotten, He IS bigger than the enemy who seeks to devour, or lurks in a public school. Vise versa, He IS big enough to handle your failings if He’s called you to homeschool.
I love homeschooling. I get to be involved in my boys’ life a little longer, nuture a little longer, teach them, a little longer. But that’s my experience. I had to overcome fear from both sides. Fear of the big, bad wolf of public school and then the big, bad wolf of myself. My fear of my boys’ education on MY shoulders, alone. Scary. I struggled with the awesome responsibility and found myself lacking. Through prayer, I’ve found, He is bigger than my failings, my fears, and even my flesh.
From ones who think homeschooling is some sort of fantical, alternate lifestyle, we need grace. But those who homeschool also need to show love to ones who choose those public places called schools. Because bottom line, it's about our walk with HIM and where He leads. You. Your Family. Your children. From both sides of the fence, they are HIS. And HE IS ABLE.
Thanks to Sarah Mae and Terri Lynne for this discussion from both sides. Throwing my two cents in for what it's worth and sharing my journey in it.
"5 My soul, wait silently for God alone, For my expectation is from Him. 6 He only is my rock and my salvation; He is my defense; I shall not be moved. 7 In God is my salvation and my glory; The rock of my strength, And my refuge, is in God. 8 Trust in Him at all times, you people; Pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us.....11 God has spoken once, Twice I have heard this: That power belongs to God."
Psalm 62:5-8 &11
We homeschool now. But I stress for now, like today. Because it is day to day, year to year, a choice. One we feel directed by our relationship with the Lord for OUR family. Not yours. That’s the point. Our family is not your family, so HIS input is needed for each of us.
As homeschoolers there are concerns from others about the socialization of our boys. So does that mean we, the parents, are a bad influence? I know it’s really not what's meant. Most likely it’s in regard to “socializing” them with society, as in kids, the larger the group the better. I assume, anyway. In fact my boys have plenty of friends. Ones they visit and see more now than when they were in a private Christian school or even when the oldest was in public school. Yea, that’s right, public school. The other side of the fence.
That year in public school, I saw other homeschooling Moms. Making the transition to public school, struggling with what others thought of them, their family. Because quite frankly, their homeschooling friends didn’t think it best, perhaps even shunned public school, maybe even them (I don't know). I myself, just overcoming my own fears of public school as I enrolled my oldest in his first year after years of being in a "safe" Christian school. After all public school is evil, right? But so is the world we live in.
As for us, we like our “bubble”some would call homeschooling. All I know: this is where God has us, for now. We are no longer doing things based on fear, it’s simply based on HIM. Finding what GOD has for YOUR family, individually is what’s important. Because, in case we’ve forgotten, He IS bigger than the enemy who seeks to devour, or lurks in a public school. Vise versa, He IS big enough to handle your failings if He’s called you to homeschool.
I love homeschooling. I get to be involved in my boys’ life a little longer, nuture a little longer, teach them, a little longer. But that’s my experience. I had to overcome fear from both sides. Fear of the big, bad wolf of public school and then the big, bad wolf of myself. My fear of my boys’ education on MY shoulders, alone. Scary. I struggled with the awesome responsibility and found myself lacking. Through prayer, I’ve found, He is bigger than my failings, my fears, and even my flesh.
From ones who think homeschooling is some sort of fantical, alternate lifestyle, we need grace. But those who homeschool also need to show love to ones who choose those public places called schools. Because bottom line, it's about our walk with HIM and where He leads. You. Your Family. Your children. From both sides of the fence, they are HIS. And HE IS ABLE.
Thanks to Sarah Mae and Terri Lynne for this discussion from both sides. Throwing my two cents in for what it's worth and sharing my journey in it.
"5 My soul, wait silently for God alone, For my expectation is from Him. 6 He only is my rock and my salvation; He is my defense; I shall not be moved. 7 In God is my salvation and my glory; The rock of my strength, And my refuge, is in God. 8 Trust in Him at all times, you people; Pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us.....11 God has spoken once, Twice I have heard this: That power belongs to God."
Psalm 62:5-8 &11
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Jumper Cables Please
My battery died. In the middle of a parking lot, my newly bought pepsi spilled inside my Hubby’s new truck and my battery shut down. It’s not supposed to be this way. Beautiful sunny day, Hubby home from out of town and I’m so pooped, my moe-joe is gone. Even if Hubby would’ve been upset my precious drink now soaking his new truck (which he wasn’t), I wouldn’t have the energy to feel it. My battery was bone dry.
That’s what single-parenting does to you. When it’s out of town to work he goes, I’m perfectly fine the first few days. But it happens. I can only run with the big dogs (single parents) for so long. By day four I wilt. Shrivel by day five. By day six and seven, I’m burnt toast. My battery running on “Empty” and my brain mush. This week seemed to be mushier and emptier.
Just like any dead battery, I got out the jumper cables. No, not another caffeine fix. I’m too tired to drink it. I got a supercharged bolt of a nap. It was only a hard 30 minutes, but boy, did I feel revived. Seriously, why did I deprive myself so long?
So next time, marathon. That’s my word. I’m going to try and not sprint through the days, expecting to make it to the finish line when Hubby gets home. I’m going to pace myself. Keep my battery charged and my brain non-mushy. Because, really, life is only going through motions otherwise. I want to live life, not survive it.
Lesson: don’t ignore your “check engine” lights. Otherwise you’ll limp through life.
That’s what single-parenting does to you. When it’s out of town to work he goes, I’m perfectly fine the first few days. But it happens. I can only run with the big dogs (single parents) for so long. By day four I wilt. Shrivel by day five. By day six and seven, I’m burnt toast. My battery running on “Empty” and my brain mush. This week seemed to be mushier and emptier.
Just like any dead battery, I got out the jumper cables. No, not another caffeine fix. I’m too tired to drink it. I got a supercharged bolt of a nap. It was only a hard 30 minutes, but boy, did I feel revived. Seriously, why did I deprive myself so long?
So next time, marathon. That’s my word. I’m going to try and not sprint through the days, expecting to make it to the finish line when Hubby gets home. I’m going to pace myself. Keep my battery charged and my brain non-mushy. Because, really, life is only going through motions otherwise. I want to live life, not survive it.
Lesson: don’t ignore your “check engine” lights. Otherwise you’ll limp through life.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
GET YOUR PRINCESS ON
Little girl castles, princes, and knights, all mingled in fairy tale life
Clothed in princess' gown, a royal thread, our head for a crown
Where castle grounds are high upon, the vistas way below
A night to sleep the castle walls and dream I'm really one
A day will come my King for me when battle's all are won.
(Neuschwanstein Castle--We visited while living in Germany. Picture taken from long drive up to top.)
(The Father of the owner Neuschwanstein Castle--His castle neighbored Neuschwanstein)
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(From Colmburg Castle, Germany--We spent the night in this Castle.)
(The room and ornate bed we slept on, just for the one night.)
(Colmburg castle, entrance, where we stayed. Huge peacocks and animals roamed these grounds.)
Unwrapping the gift of: Being a princess, all grown up! Because we're being groomed for the day when our real Prince and King comes for us, His bride. So excuse me while I go back to practicing and perhaps a little dress up too.
"16 And He has on His robe and on His thigh a name written: KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS." Revelation 19:16 NKJ
For more unwrapping visit "Unwrapped Tuesdays" at "chatting at the sky" .
Saturday, January 16, 2010
PROMISES IN THE SKY
Swimming long my thoughts, my King
a lovely image His Spirit brings.
Soul and spirit to Him I cleave
His person, His Spirit to never leave.
As I lingered this I found
appearing quiet without a sound,
yet loud He speaks in colors bold
where it’s mentioned in words of old.
An arch formed across the sky
His love displayed for human eye,
shines bright against a setting sun
a moment where His presence comes.
Arrived the scene to me I knew
my King, Himself among the hues.
I look on it the same as HIM
together we linger this moment in.
Presented He came to tell His love
not only told about a flood,
where looked together we might share
this moment of color upon the air.
--Tammy
(In a 3 hour drive home today, I was meditating on Him when suddenly a rainbow appeared in a most exquisite way! Like the arch of St. Louis, Mo, it’s fully formed shaped went right over our car and many others. For a long 30-40 minutes of marvelous wonder, we drove INTO this amazing display. I was struck: HE IS LOOKING TOO! Together, with HIM, we were gazing on it, along with every other driver. Some with their camera phones taking pictures as we all drove nearer, then under its beauty. As if revealing Himself in it, to me & to every person crossing that way.)
"13 I set My rainbow in the cloud, and it shall be for the sign of the covenant between Me and the earth. 14 It shall be, when I bring a cloud over the earth, that the rainbow shall be seen in the cloud; 15 and I will remember My covenant which is between Me and you and every living creature of all flesh; the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh. 16 The rainbow shall be in the cloud, and I will look on it to remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth.”
Genesis 9:13-16
My gratitude this Monday, goes to rainbows; His presence not only in the car, but in the sky!
33. Rainbows!
34. Long drives spent on HIM
35. HIS sweet promises at times spoken, written, seen and finding its fullest in all three
36. Lingering long in HIS presence, oblivious to a world blurring my car window
37. Finding HIS touch between chords of music
38. Him displaying Himself to us He created
39. Moments of Him shared with family, my two boys also marveling His displays
40. Capturing vistas with pocket digital cameras
41. Driving under wonder, a rainbow, beaming then fading with the sun
42. Leftover glows caressing western skylines
43. Dusk seeping in along a highway
Friday, January 15, 2010
Plowed Under--The Farm Tells My Story
"On a neglected farm where repair is needed
as in my life, areas already repaired by HIM.
In places where discarded stuff has piled up
He places, as far as east is west, my discarded pile.
As meadows grow tall with wayward grasses,
His word tames my wayward blades.
Where trees disturb fence lines,
my tree’s been planted near Living water.
Years away from this farm I've loved,
like years spent away from the ONE who loves.
A story told in my return, this farm,
also an earlier story in returning to Him.
Charred ground blackened from our “wildfire”,
nourished by the burn for new grasses;
Charred by sin, areas in my life, He sprouts new life.
Digging new ponds and establishing old ones,
also His watering holes—to enjoy, refresh, or swim (in Him).
Developing new roads
also new paths discovered with Him.
And clearing out many plugged up ditches
allowing His cleansing rain to flow through all of mine.”
(Like a farm in need of restoration, the same is seen in many lives through comments on blog spots. Your stories have moved me. Having been restored myself also means I was in need of restoring. My life. Like Haiti in dire need, I'm reminded of others in need from their own earthshattering moments. Among the rubble of their lives, they need the Supreme Red Cross, His livesaving blood. His aid Mending, His comfort Healing, His hope Glimmering, His strength Rebuilding. Where ever you are at in life, He is there too. From a life of ashes, He can turn to beauty. From miry clay, HE can set feet on solid rock. From ALL things, even bad, He can turn for good those who love Him. Turn to Him and He’ll turn the rest.)
“He also brought me up out of a horrible pit,
Out of the miry clay,
And set my feet upon a rock,
And established my steps.” Psalm 40:2 NKJ
“And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God,
to those who are the called according to His purpose.” Romans 8:28 NKJ
His "purpose" is in Christ. It's not selective. You also are "called":
"..who has saved us and called us with a holy calling,
not according to our works, but according to His own purpose and grace
which was given to us in Christ Jesus before time began..”
1 Timothy 1:9 NKJ
“..To give them beauty for ashes, The oil of joy for mourning, The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; That they may be called trees of righteousness, The planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified.” Isaiah 61:3 NKJ
Only His grace is needed. Just come and BE in it.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Licking The Flame When Meadows Burn
I’m glad we live near a fire department and good neighbors. This week, we needed both. If you’ve been to my “place”, you know it has big needs, much work, and lots of junk. No I’m not talking about my life (although it sounds familiar) but I’m referring to our farm.
After years of neglect, we are in the fixing, repairing, and cleaning mode, which also means piles of stuff, junk. Too much for hauling to a dump, believe me, we’ve had our share of loads there. So we burn what we can. Like yesterday. Cool air without a breeze, the process begins. There are good burns, then there are BAD ones.
We had a bad one.
A breeze snatched fire out of the good one and began to burn a bad one, as in our farm, up, in smoke. During this time I was napping, rousing, but still oblivious. Until my kids burst in my room with “Mom, we got a problem!” Can we say, understatement?
This wildfire now growing bigger as a mysterious breeze from out of nowhere feeds this monster. Very bad indeed. Furiously we try to control it. Bigger it grows. 911 now rushing in my head, I run to find my phone. Why are those things so hard to find when you really NEED them??
It’s a good thing we live next to a fire department. I said that already and it’s worth repeating. Before I could find my phone, they show up. A neighbor driving a water truck and my children standing at our door, praying. It took the whole truck to put the fire out. A lot more dousing with a water hose into the hours were done before we were satisfied we killed the fire. Killed, like slayed. Dead and drenching wet.
I could say the lesson is keep a water hose nearby or move next door to a fire dept. And actually if it wouldn’t have been for lovely Hubby’s mowing this area a couple weeks before, this could’ve and would’ve been worse. Another bright side: I only watched our wildfire from our front yard, not on Foxnews.
Keeping this place mowed & cleaned is the same application to my life (or junk piles in and wayward grass grows up). Can you believe controlled burns are excellent for managing these wildfires? They are and leave nutrients too. Spiritually needed is HIS refreshing water nearby for dousing because Lord knows, it’ll take a lot of it. Those sinful fires kicked up from fleshy breezes.
The real lesson: For HIM to ignite controlled burns in our life and douse HIS water for the ones started by us! If all else fails, call 911, HE’ll be right there. Like a good neighbor and the fire dept. next door.
"Walk With Him Wednesday"
After years of neglect, we are in the fixing, repairing, and cleaning mode, which also means piles of stuff, junk. Too much for hauling to a dump, believe me, we’ve had our share of loads there. So we burn what we can. Like yesterday. Cool air without a breeze, the process begins. There are good burns, then there are BAD ones.
We had a bad one.
A breeze snatched fire out of the good one and began to burn a bad one, as in our farm, up, in smoke. During this time I was napping, rousing, but still oblivious. Until my kids burst in my room with “Mom, we got a problem!” Can we say, understatement?
This wildfire now growing bigger as a mysterious breeze from out of nowhere feeds this monster. Very bad indeed. Furiously we try to control it. Bigger it grows. 911 now rushing in my head, I run to find my phone. Why are those things so hard to find when you really NEED them??
It’s a good thing we live next to a fire department. I said that already and it’s worth repeating. Before I could find my phone, they show up. A neighbor driving a water truck and my children standing at our door, praying. It took the whole truck to put the fire out. A lot more dousing with a water hose into the hours were done before we were satisfied we killed the fire. Killed, like slayed. Dead and drenching wet.
I could say the lesson is keep a water hose nearby or move next door to a fire dept. And actually if it wouldn’t have been for lovely Hubby’s mowing this area a couple weeks before, this could’ve and would’ve been worse. Another bright side: I only watched our wildfire from our front yard, not on Foxnews.
Keeping this place mowed & cleaned is the same application to my life (or junk piles in and wayward grass grows up). Can you believe controlled burns are excellent for managing these wildfires? They are and leave nutrients too. Spiritually needed is HIS refreshing water nearby for dousing because Lord knows, it’ll take a lot of it. Those sinful fires kicked up from fleshy breezes.
The real lesson: For HIM to ignite controlled burns in our life and douse HIS water for the ones started by us! If all else fails, call 911, HE’ll be right there. Like a good neighbor and the fire dept. next door.
"Walk With Him Wednesday"
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Epiphany—Bolts Like Lightning & Shock Therapy
Like a bolt of lightning brightens a darkened sky, an epiphany, lights up a revelation in our hearts. Something so profound, so significant, there’s a supernatural click of a whole other dimension you never knew existed. Never COULD see existed, until of course the moment comes. The epiphany exposing revelations of His work in our lives.
This isn’t my story. It’s belong to her, a somebody else. A personal journey shared for others who may be walking where she walks. Too jumbled where her thoughts for paper or keyboard, she asks my help to put it down. So I assist, I write, sharing this “ah-ha” moment with her. With permission, I pass it on to you. Perhaps you know this place she walks or you’ve walked this way. Maybe you even know her, maybe it’s you. Either way, she leaves it here; in case you need it as much as she did and still does.
Her story:
Hers is a desire for her husband, spending time together, not spent so many other places. Attempts to talk to Hubby about lack of quality time, connecting or meaningful conversations, seems to bring out a defensive or perhaps surprised response. Reminding her, Hubby lists all the THINGS he does for her and wonders why she feels this way. Without him truly understanding, she explains those THINGS aren’t what satisfy her. Rather it’s just him she wants. His heart connecting with hers. Not grasping how his THINGS, list of “do”s don’t measure up, he thinks it should be fine. But her frustration builds and she doesn't feel fine.
That morning came the epiphany. Her own life mirrored like her marriage. Her husband is also her. A response to God, to Christ Himself she is the same way. He says, I’m not satisfied. Yet she presents HIM, defensively or surprisingly, all the THINGs she’s been doing for Him. Why hasn’t He done what He’s promised? Her end of the bargain kept in checking off her list of “do”ing for Him. HE replies, I don’t want those THINGS. Checklist and “do”s these sacrifices of legalism are hollow offerings to Him.
Her epiphany received for her dry and thirsty soul begins:
Leave your THINGS and just bring you. Quality time, connecting, meaningful conversations, bring all your heart and connect with MINE. It’s you I want, not your things. Stop “do”ing and start being, with ME. (Wow. Simple.)
All this time her perfect example through her marriage. Now turned like a mirror on her. Here I am, He says. An epiphany for all to share. Like the song: Come just as you are. He just wants us not our good deeds. Leave our lists at the door. Come to talk, fellowship, and enjoy Him. Just as we are. In Him, this somebody, she marvels "No lists, Really?"
(I’m not a list person; however she is; either way He just wants us. Mess and all. Simple. Really. )
Monday, January 11, 2010
HE Abides There
A list in it's beginning stages, I'm excited to find Him in all things. Some quirky, some obvious, and some shared by others are these things I'm discovering. Often times I've lost the aroma of Him in search of doing, tasking, going. So we make time to remember. A seemingly simple thing, a passed over process of gratitude.
23. Roads! They lead me to new places.
24. Quiet. in past would drive me bananas; but two loud boys make it cherished
25. King-sized beds. Unfortunately it doesn’t help Hubby if I snore…..not saying I do, just saying
26. Paper. Though rarely used for writing by me (I prefer keyboards thank you), but my boys go through reams of it.
27. Sunsets. Beautiful
28. Hot showers.
29. Mexican food. Keep the salsa coming too. A girl’s gotta eat!
30. Maple trees for the foliage in fall and spring.
32. Traveling. Having done it and hoping to do more.
It's when we praise Him with our gratitude, He joins us in it. A sacrifice by the fruit of our lips, or keyboards, it's go up like a praise offering. A pleasing fragance to Him. Even more of a sacrifice is finding gratitude in our troubled times. May we fellowship with one another's gratitudes and with Him as we enter His presence through gates of thanksgiving. Let's enter!:
"Let us come before His presence with thanksgiving..." Psalm 95:2 NKJ
"Enter in His gates with thanksgiving, and in to His courts with praise." Psalm 100:4 NKJ
"Therefore by Him let us continually offer the sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of our lips, giving thanks to His name." Hebrews 13:15 NKJ
18. Makeup: I could live without it, but it’d be an uglier place!
19. Discovering new landscapes, where ooing & awing over each slice of it gets a moan from my family
20. Pictures
21. His Holy Spirit…not to be cliché’ but by golly, I just couldn’t do it without Him
22. Poetry
20. Pictures
21. His Holy Spirit…not to be cliché’ but by golly, I just couldn’t do it without Him
22. Poetry
23. Roads! They lead me to new places.
24. Quiet. in past would drive me bananas; but two loud boys make it cherished
25. King-sized beds. Unfortunately it doesn’t help Hubby if I snore…..not saying I do, just saying
26. Paper. Though rarely used for writing by me (I prefer keyboards thank you), but my boys go through reams of it.
27. Sunsets. Beautiful
28. Hot showers.
29. Mexican food. Keep the salsa coming too. A girl’s gotta eat!
30. Maple trees for the foliage in fall and spring.
32. Traveling. Having done it and hoping to do more.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Shadow Telling
As part of Holley's "Heart to Heart" , "what's God doing in your heart" is when I came back to the Lord (many years back). Where my shame for the 'lost years' used to haunt me, they are now cast down to the ground like shadows. Shadows of my sin from those prodigal years, I now realize are only visible to me because of His glorious light that shines on them. I forgive myself because I gave them to Him. If you're a prodigal daughter, He desires the same for you. Let Him take your darkness (shadows) and put you in His marvelous Light!
Curious things are shadows.
Not reflecting an image, just its shape.
.JPG)
Outlined in dark, it casts a form.
Only created where there is light.
Where brightness darkens the shadow
and dimness cast a fainter form.
It teaches about Him. His light also revealing shadows.
Darkness shadowed from me, cast under His light.
His brightness darkening my form
or His dimness in my life faintly seen.
It's dark but lovely I am
when long my shadow is cast by Him.
In His glorious light,
the shapes of my sin no longer clinging to me,
fall like the shadows.
Down to the ground my darkness goes,
becoming darker the more He glows.
Shadows--Dark But Lovely
Dull is cast those clouded skies
no longer this place my life abides.
Finding Light where gray once reigned
I’m captured in the Son who came.
Casting dark, His brightness dwells
shadows loved because they fell.
Warmth is mine this Light He brings
forever keep where shadows cling.
--Written by Me (Tammy)
(With bright sun-shiney days as my favorite ones, recently I realized shadows also are a part of them. After coming back to the Lord as an adult, there was a time I despised the shadow of a life once lived: mistakes, sins and such. Now focused on His Light, I've come to view them as lovely. Because it's in His brightness I can see them at all.)
Curious things are shadows.
Not reflecting an image, just its shape.
.JPG)
Outlined in dark, it casts a form.
Only created where there is light.
Where brightness darkens the shadow
and dimness cast a fainter form.
It teaches about Him. His light also revealing shadows.
Darkness shadowed from me, cast under His light.
His brightness darkening my form
or His dimness in my life faintly seen.
It's dark but lovely I am
when long my shadow is cast by Him.
In His glorious light,
the shapes of my sin no longer clinging to me,
fall like the shadows.
Down to the ground my darkness goes,
becoming darker the more He glows.
Shadows--Dark But Lovely
Dull is cast those clouded skies
no longer this place my life abides.
Finding Light where gray once reigned
I’m captured in the Son who came.
Casting dark, His brightness dwells
shadows loved because they fell.
Warmth is mine this Light He brings
forever keep where shadows cling.
--Written by Me (Tammy)
(With bright sun-shiney days as my favorite ones, recently I realized shadows also are a part of them. After coming back to the Lord as an adult, there was a time I despised the shadow of a life once lived: mistakes, sins and such. Now focused on His Light, I've come to view them as lovely. Because it's in His brightness I can see them at all.)
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Keeping Accounts—Banking On It
Broke, spent, gone. Too many withdrawals deplete funds. A Bank of Patience, where the account runs empty. On what or whom do I write these checks? “TO: “ analytical Son goes one check for all the details he insists I need to know. Or “TO:” warrior Son is written for all his fussing with brother. Or “TO:” maintaining house single-handedly when Hubby is out-of-town for work. Or “TO:” hearing MYSELF repeatedly talk to analytical Son and warrior Brother. So many “TO:”s are dispensed before I realize the account is empty. Patience depleted, or at best weary.
A fluctuating account, labeled “Raising Little People”. Two boys with energy and ideas coming at me like a demolition derby. Check writing is often. Keeping the account active with its transactions, in and out.
Balancing the register, comes on Hubby’s return. Back from work. Deposits are made. One being made now, as I write. Others made in the checkbook. HIS Book, where I deposit from HIS word. During Hubby’s presence at home (& off work) more are added to the account.
As with any active account, it’s there for use and not idleness. Again it will come. On the heels of Hubby’s out-of-town absence, my checks ready for the spending.
Grateful to have this account “Raising Little People”, I make my needed deposits. Spending funds while they’re still available, because one day this account will close. So I’m banking on patience, an investment that reaps dividends.
“…..pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, gentleness.” 1 Timothy 6:11
(Perhaps “pursue”ing patience is done when nothing else is left. Not all patient and Proverbial is life when raising kids. Or whatever your account label. At times from the weary bottom, He picks us up. It’s called normal. Bodies grow weak, busy comes in, rushing fills up, and patience walks out. Sometimes it’s just about a Calgon moment. And a good read; HE’s a great start.
Thanks Hubby for indulging me the moment to write this post. You’re a great Depositer!)
Calgon completed, post pasted, children sleeping. Deposit made.
“…..with a noble and good heart, keep it and bear fruit with patience.” Luke 8:15
A fluctuating account, labeled “Raising Little People”. Two boys with energy and ideas coming at me like a demolition derby. Check writing is often. Keeping the account active with its transactions, in and out.
Balancing the register, comes on Hubby’s return. Back from work. Deposits are made. One being made now, as I write. Others made in the checkbook. HIS Book, where I deposit from HIS word. During Hubby’s presence at home (& off work) more are added to the account.
As with any active account, it’s there for use and not idleness. Again it will come. On the heels of Hubby’s out-of-town absence, my checks ready for the spending.
Grateful to have this account “Raising Little People”, I make my needed deposits. Spending funds while they’re still available, because one day this account will close. So I’m banking on patience, an investment that reaps dividends.
“…..pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, gentleness.” 1 Timothy 6:11
(Perhaps “pursue”ing patience is done when nothing else is left. Not all patient and Proverbial is life when raising kids. Or whatever your account label. At times from the weary bottom, He picks us up. It’s called normal. Bodies grow weak, busy comes in, rushing fills up, and patience walks out. Sometimes it’s just about a Calgon moment. And a good read; HE’s a great start.
Thanks Hubby for indulging me the moment to write this post. You’re a great Depositer!)
Calgon completed, post pasted, children sleeping. Deposit made.
“…..with a noble and good heart, keep it and bear fruit with patience.” Luke 8:15
Sunday, January 3, 2010
STONES AT THE BOTTOM
A stone is thrown…
Rumors follow this old stone..JPG)
Rumors, ugly if untrue or sad if it were so. They won’t be shared here, because truth be told who knows if there’s any truth in them. Whatever the reason, she (for that’s her gender) is not worthy of those gated stones. As the rumor goes.
Solemn and gray it stands. Away from the others, sitting outside the fence. Aged by time, it now leans.
Outside these gates, I too am placed. Where no fence or many others are found. The tongue which cuts, bites, wounds, and separates, is where I thankfully lean. On Him.
A stone stands alone…
Surrounded by those who’d accuse me, I stand here. Caught. Guilty. Alone. Stones ready for the lashing I deserve. Those “righteous” accusers. In their abuse, I’m brought to another place. To Him. In all my sin, dragged to Jesus. Who now stoops, with His sinless finger in the dirt. Writing. Words not revealed but in them, Mercy.
A stone with mud…
When I left the Father’s house, I didn’t intend to leave HIM. Just the ones who lived there. So how is it with a spent inheritance, did I find myself in the waste of a prodigal? Stained (by sin), broke (in spirit), disheveled (in life), desperate (to return), I went back. If only just to serve Him.
So I’m greeted by a FATHER who rejoices in my return. Despised from a distance, is the same return from the one who never left. Despite my unworthiness, Father welcomes me back…His child.
A stone sinking….
Gathered along the merciful banks are these defiled stones. For the tossing. Skipped across the smooth waters of grace, they’re pulled down. Ever farther they go into the cool depths. Tumbled, cleansed, smoothed, are the ones down below. Where mine have come to rest. These waters of His rush over, moving, washing, and refining. Their sinking is mine too. His depths over us. Here at the bottom.
(Having been wounded by those in the church, I spent many years away from it. Running from it. But realized I too was away from Him. It’s been many years now, since I returned to the Father. May I forever live in His house and swim in His grace. It’s not an excuse for sin; it’s just where we find Him, Jesus. Join me at the bottom!)
PS. A real grave, with a real rumor. It's located near my house. I've often wondered who she was & if she needed some of His grace.
"Bear one another's burdens, and so fullfill the law of Christ." Galations 6:2 NKJ
Sis-inChrist, may you help me to carry my burden (when weak) and when you falter, I'll be there to carry yours.
Starting here at the bottom...thankful gifts!
1. Grace
2. A Husband who makes me laugh and sweetens my journey (read more at "Slipped in the Night..." ).
3. Three kids.
4. His beauty and wonder I'm always finding in His creations, nature.
5. For friends, both new ones made in person and ones made through computer keyboards.
6. Laughter!!
7. Music....sometimes it feels like angels singing (I hear they like it :-) ).
8. Sunshine!! Perhaps I should've put that beside Laughter...I love them both equally.
9. Fitting into my regular clothes....not squeezing into my LARGER ones.
10. My husband loves what he does flying for an air ambulance company.
11. A house in progress (a stepping stone for now) meets all our needs.
12. Farm life.
13. Country roads.
14. Hairspray!
15. Cows munching on grass.
16. Gratitude. :-)
Hey, Sis's-inChrist, this is addicting...and I better stop here or I'll never leave this computer! Continuing my list in Microsoft Word...
Rumors follow this old stone.
.JPG)
Rumors, ugly if untrue or sad if it were so. They won’t be shared here, because truth be told who knows if there’s any truth in them. Whatever the reason, she (for that’s her gender) is not worthy of those gated stones. As the rumor goes.Solemn and gray it stands. Away from the others, sitting outside the fence. Aged by time, it now leans.
Outside these gates, I too am placed. Where no fence or many others are found. The tongue which cuts, bites, wounds, and separates, is where I thankfully lean. On Him.
A stone stands alone…
Surrounded by those who’d accuse me, I stand here. Caught. Guilty. Alone. Stones ready for the lashing I deserve. Those “righteous” accusers. In their abuse, I’m brought to another place. To Him. In all my sin, dragged to Jesus. Who now stoops, with His sinless finger in the dirt. Writing. Words not revealed but in them, Mercy.
A stone with mud…
When I left the Father’s house, I didn’t intend to leave HIM. Just the ones who lived there. So how is it with a spent inheritance, did I find myself in the waste of a prodigal? Stained (by sin), broke (in spirit), disheveled (in life), desperate (to return), I went back. If only just to serve Him.
So I’m greeted by a FATHER who rejoices in my return. Despised from a distance, is the same return from the one who never left. Despite my unworthiness, Father welcomes me back…His child.
A stone sinking….
Gathered along the merciful banks are these defiled stones. For the tossing. Skipped across the smooth waters of grace, they’re pulled down. Ever farther they go into the cool depths. Tumbled, cleansed, smoothed, are the ones down below. Where mine have come to rest. These waters of His rush over, moving, washing, and refining. Their sinking is mine too. His depths over us. Here at the bottom.
(Having been wounded by those in the church, I spent many years away from it. Running from it. But realized I too was away from Him. It’s been many years now, since I returned to the Father. May I forever live in His house and swim in His grace. It’s not an excuse for sin; it’s just where we find Him, Jesus. Join me at the bottom!)
PS. A real grave, with a real rumor. It's located near my house. I've often wondered who she was & if she needed some of His grace.
"Bear one another's burdens, and so fullfill the law of Christ." Galations 6:2 NKJ
Sis-inChrist, may you help me to carry my burden (when weak) and when you falter, I'll be there to carry yours.
Starting here at the bottom...thankful gifts!
1. Grace
2. A Husband who makes me laugh and sweetens my journey (read more at "Slipped in the Night..." ).
3. Three kids.
4. His beauty and wonder I'm always finding in His creations, nature.
5. For friends, both new ones made in person and ones made through computer keyboards.
6. Laughter!!
7. Music....sometimes it feels like angels singing (I hear they like it :-) ).
8. Sunshine!! Perhaps I should've put that beside Laughter...I love them both equally.
9. Fitting into my regular clothes....not squeezing into my LARGER ones.
10. My husband loves what he does flying for an air ambulance company.
11. A house in progress (a stepping stone for now) meets all our needs.
12. Farm life.
13. Country roads.
14. Hairspray!
15. Cows munching on grass.
16. Gratitude. :-)
Hey, Sis's-inChrist, this is addicting...and I better stop here or I'll never leave this computer! Continuing my list in Microsoft Word...
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Unchartered Big Dreams—Where Jaws Lives
(What did I learn this week? Excited, I’ve given it to Him. Dreams. Not just the ones I imagined. But allowing the ones HE’s imagined for me. Moments caught in sleep, when anything’s possible. And it is. Hoping you let HIS dreams be birthed in you too! Not just the ones you limit.)
The challenge of big dreams…
Laying down the gauntlet by Holly Gerth at (In)courage,is formed in a question of what are your (my) God-sized dreams for 2010?
My heart flutters…or more like sputters. Treading out to those unchartered waters. A lone fin seen swirling around like the shark it is, fear.
Smaller dreams keep me close to the beach, land still in sight. Where safe harbors are nestled.
Bigger leads me out, charting unknown courses. With HIM as my captain and navigator, this should be enough to give me the courage. What if like the disciples in the boat , HE falls asleep? Oh ye, of little faith, me.
From my spot here on the shore, I see the waters churn. Drawing me out. Where in harmony the horizon and water meet. And safety is left among grains of sand.
In answer to this perplexing question……my God-sized dream will be me finding mine. One without limits, or confined to my “abilities”, but bigger. Sharkier. A place only my Captain can navigate. A place where I could walk on water…. if I have the faith.
(This is continued some more in "Circling the Dark Hours" ....lets Dream Big, thanks Holly for the challenge.)
The challenge of big dreams…
Laying down the gauntlet by Holly Gerth at (In)courage,is formed in a question of what are your (my) God-sized dreams for 2010?
My heart flutters…or more like sputters. Treading out to those unchartered waters. A lone fin seen swirling around like the shark it is, fear.
Smaller dreams keep me close to the beach, land still in sight. Where safe harbors are nestled.Bigger leads me out, charting unknown courses. With HIM as my captain and navigator, this should be enough to give me the courage. What if like the disciples in the boat , HE falls asleep? Oh ye, of little faith, me.
From my spot here on the shore, I see the waters churn. Drawing me out. Where in harmony the horizon and water meet. And safety is left among grains of sand.
In answer to this perplexing question……my God-sized dream will be me finding mine. One without limits, or confined to my “abilities”, but bigger. Sharkier. A place only my Captain can navigate. A place where I could walk on water…. if I have the faith.
(This is continued some more in "Circling the Dark Hours" ....lets Dream Big, thanks Holly for the challenge.)
Friday, January 1, 2010
Slipped In the Night--Not Feeling "New", Just Markers
The New Year rang in and somehow it doesn’t feel “new”. Time-challenged ways of mine may have something to do with it. The same one that causes me to forget my own birthday, confuse my children’s birth dates, and requires me to set “appointments” for my trash delivery. Measuring time is done by events, moments, transitions, moves, never mind if I get the year wrong. Life markers, staked like monuments. Not for worship, but for reminding.
HIM there & here with me. God journeying with me, together. HIM leading, while I exercise following. HIM beside me, while I exercise slowing my pace, not running ahead. HIM behind, an exercise in faith, HIM my rear guard. HIM speaking, an exercise in listening, not interrupting. HIM silent, an exercise in feasting, searching for HIS word, any Word. HIM providing, an exercise in thankfulness, not in pride. HIM blessing, an exercise in HIS goodness, not mine.
Gathering words, I stake here, a life marker. “It is not good for man to be alone.” My Adam, this husband. Beside him is me, a floundering helpmeet who flops between flesh and Spirit .
Unlocking words too few spoken, I release them here. A balance I didn’t know I needed, but God did.
No anniversary, birthday, or special events mark our New Year. Just us continuing onward. Reflections of my husband; also reflections of HIM. Like the ones below:
--Following (even if I “know!”), to find my husband’s path was the better one.
Humbleness.
--Slowing my pace to his, before plunging headlong into commitments of miry clay.
Steady.
--Faith chasing, wasn’t leaving him behind, but him being my rear guard. Trusting.
--My constant interruptions, excercises hubby's patience, which stirs my desire to listen. Gentleness.
--Silence in the moments he’s gone for work, causes me to feast on his words when home. Hunger.
--Thankfulness in Hubby's provision for our family, not puffed up in a big mortgage payment. Forsaking.
--Hubby's blessing of commitment to family, in spite of my sorely lacking goodness. Riches.
Blogging is another exercise, of unlocking written words needed. Placed here, before stained with my living. From this floundering helpmeet, I stake the words not often spoken: “You are appreciated.”
To this one who God graced my life, sweeter is my journey with him in it. Not spoken enough are the words inside. Much like trees of paper from unwrapped gifts, I attempt to unwrap here. While here is still now and now is the time.
“….And a word spoken in due season, how good it is!” Proverb 15:23 NKJ
“It is not good that man should be alone; I will make him a helper…” Genesis 2:18 NKJ
(thanks goodness! or I wouldn’t be here.)
“ Who can find a virtuous wife? For her worth is far above rubies.” Proverbs 31:10 NKJ
(Trading in my costume jewelry is a process!)
As part of Tuesdays Unwrapped, this was my New Year unwrappings. For others unwrappings visit chatting at the sky
HIM there & here with me. God journeying with me, together. HIM leading, while I exercise following. HIM beside me, while I exercise slowing my pace, not running ahead. HIM behind, an exercise in faith, HIM my rear guard. HIM speaking, an exercise in listening, not interrupting. HIM silent, an exercise in feasting, searching for HIS word, any Word. HIM providing, an exercise in thankfulness, not in pride. HIM blessing, an exercise in HIS goodness, not mine.
Gathering words, I stake here, a life marker. “It is not good for man to be alone.” My Adam, this husband. Beside him is me, a floundering helpmeet who flops between flesh and Spirit .
Unlocking words too few spoken, I release them here. A balance I didn’t know I needed, but God did.
No anniversary, birthday, or special events mark our New Year. Just us continuing onward. Reflections of my husband; also reflections of HIM. Like the ones below:
--Following (even if I “know!”), to find my husband’s path was the better one.
Humbleness.
--Slowing my pace to his, before plunging headlong into commitments of miry clay.
Steady.
--Faith chasing, wasn’t leaving him behind, but him being my rear guard. Trusting.
--My constant interruptions, excercises hubby's patience, which stirs my desire to listen. Gentleness.
--Silence in the moments he’s gone for work, causes me to feast on his words when home. Hunger.
--Thankfulness in Hubby's provision for our family, not puffed up in a big mortgage payment. Forsaking.
--Hubby's blessing of commitment to family, in spite of my sorely lacking goodness. Riches.
Blogging is another exercise, of unlocking written words needed. Placed here, before stained with my living. From this floundering helpmeet, I stake the words not often spoken: “You are appreciated.”
To this one who God graced my life, sweeter is my journey with him in it. Not spoken enough are the words inside. Much like trees of paper from unwrapped gifts, I attempt to unwrap here. While here is still now and now is the time.
“….And a word spoken in due season, how good it is!” Proverb 15:23 NKJ
“It is not good that man should be alone; I will make him a helper…” Genesis 2:18 NKJ
(thanks goodness! or I wouldn’t be here.)
“ Who can find a virtuous wife? For her worth is far above rubies.” Proverbs 31:10 NKJ
(Trading in my costume jewelry is a process!)
As part of Tuesdays Unwrapped, this was my New Year unwrappings. For others unwrappings visit chatting at the sky
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