4Granted--Dear Grass,

You carpet our world and though crushed underfoot you bear the weight. Emerald hues clothe your meadow views come Spring and Fall. And in skyward thickness you create lush expanses that move like a waving green ocean in gentle breezes.

Then pale and brown your pace slows for Summer days. You shrivel in dry earth and reveal your rooted dirt. Bald spots appearing in pastures worn down by heat and drought.

Rest comes in the color of straw in the dormant of Winter. The lawnmower also resting through the season. The drained color causes us to pine for your vibrancy once again. But we know rest is good. Not only for grass, but for us too. So we join you in the seasons.

There you are. Covering our world with the seasons. Individual blades overlooked in the expanse of lawn. It's a piece of creation that speaks Creator. A small detail compared to the creation of Earth, the Heavens, and Man. But critical none the less. Perhaps under appreciated too. So today I appreciate and wonder the One who created this small wonder of grass. "Then God said, 'Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb that yields seed, and the fruit tree that yields fruit according to its kind, whose seed is in itself, on the earth'; and it was so. And the earth brought forth grass.." Genesis 1:11 and 12

This Tuesday, I'm unwrapping the simple pleasure of grass. For more unwrappings visit Emily's "Chatting at the Sky".

My Ego Loves Me--It's Not Mutual

"O LORD, You induced me, and I was persuaded;

You are stronger than I, and have prevailed.

I am in derision daily;

Everyone mocks me.

Then I said, 'I will not make mention of Him,

Nor speak anymore in His name.'

But His word was in my heart like a burning fire

Shut up in my bones;

I was weary of holding it back,

And I could not."  Jeremiah 20:7 and 9

The thing with fire is it burns. And words shut up only smolder inside.

The thing of speaking is also one that cripples. Limping in shadows of rejection and holding us back until we no longer are able to quiet them.

The thing with rejection is that egos fall. Like mine. And I let it. This ego that gets in way of humble. That wants to have rights. That wants to be right. Rejection allows me to be lowered and seek the Feet. To search self and search Light. And I come to Him who holds the fire in my bones. The words I grow weary of holding back.

And no matter how much I want you to like me, I speak from this place shut inside. Clinging to doubt and pride, my ego wants to hide. And it just wants to get along and write simple things and make nice.

But that's my ego. It wants to wear the mask and not expose my grit, the rib of who I really am.

I'm citizen to a Kingdom, an alien nation in Christ. The thing with a kingdom is they have warriors. Real battles are raging whether I believe or not. I don't want the wounding, the struggle, the fight. But for a King I risk and release the shutting up. And I let ego fall hard.

It also falls hard on the heart where I humbly quake. But it breaks up fallowed ground to search me, test me and try me by fire. Because sometimes words burn and my ego becomes the lock to keep them inside.

My battle in the Kingdom waits in the mirror. Fighting ego and allowing my bones to be free. Derision lowers me to dust and I embrace this place He breathed life. And when ego is battered and mocked, I earnestly crawl to the foot of the Cross. Because it's here I have to look up to the One who sees. Laying down rights and being right and exposing bone by letting His words be. It allows Him to have His way and to burn ego's chaff which clings to me.



Join me this Tuesday at Bridget Chumbley's "One Word Carnival". The word is "Ego". Share your "ego" thoughts and then add your page.  Hope to see ya there!

When Bruises Try to Hide--The Closet Picture

The space was small, dark, and safe. She liked it there. Like a cocoon wrapped by walls, the only exit was through closet doors. If the little girl could move into it and live there, she would. The closet was the closest thing to Jesus for her.

Her Mother tried to keep things 'normal' but she knew. How could she not? An angry male voice joined by his fists and once again the danger returned. Danger never really left, just lurked. Hysterical screaming from her younger sister would make the episodes all the more terrifying. The little girl tried to hold it together for everyone's sake or maybe for her own. The panic choked by fear and helpless size. Behind closed bedroom doors, the pleading from her Mother would begin. Underneath the space of door and floor she would even say, "Be quiet or the kids will hear." But they heard. The muffled blows. The fear.

Somehow I remember the little girl like a television show replaying for an audience of me. We are connected, her and I.  I tried.  To Forget her; Move on without her; Be strong for her...Hide her. But I can't deny or separate that I lived her. I am her. No amount of being strong and grown and hidden, helped in making a better life for her.

The fear was the worst pain. Skin bruises heal long before soul-bruises heal.
 
So I've remembered her and me. Together we're one. I can't amputate my childhood as if it were some un-needed appendage. I need it and saying that sounds weird. I don't want it but knowing what, where, how I came to be, exposes darkness to Light. Even if it exposes me.

Perhaps healing and wholeness has a way of placing the past in compartments of has-beens. No longer am I tethered by the pain of a little girl. I've received forgiveness and it's allowed me to forgive. And no person, or abuser, is my enemy because my battles aren't with flesh and blood but with spiritual rulers of darkness. I've known those rulers.

On the wall in my little girl bedroom hung a picture. With every fiber of me, I imagined me in the picture. "Oh if I could just be like that little lamb!" The one Jesus was holding. The Good Shepherd tenderly carrying what was lost.

In the pursuit of safety I sought smallness in a closet because smaller was better for hiding. It was my strong tower and a shelter in weakness. Before I ever said a prayer of repentance, I knew. On hard surface behind closed doors, I knew. Wrapped in darkness and walls, I knew. I didn't have to imagine. Here in the closet, I was the lamb.

Jesus longs to carry the hurting and seek out what's lost. Not just a wall-hanging thingy for a look-see.  But a heartfelt-picture of how He feels about you and me. No matter where you hide, He can meet you there.



"The light of the sun will be sevenfold, as the light of seven days, in the day that the LORD binds up the bruise of His people and heals the stroke of their wound." Isaiah 30:26

"For You have been a shelter for me, a strong tower from the enemy." Psalm 61:3
 
"For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places." Ephesians 6:12

This Wednesday, I'm listening to His Presence from a long ago closet. Ann at "Holy Experience" makes me want to be brave to share. For more "Walks With Him" visit Ann's place.

Guest Posting--At Emily's

Oh my goodness. Emily from "Chatting At The Sky" has graciously opened up her journey (and blog) for others voices to join hers. Today, I'm humbled she's given my 'voice' space among her pages.

IT'S ABOUT THE GUTS:

"...In my contemplation of words, I’m learning more about their revealing, sewn together in the fabric of who we are. They are our insides on the outside. From our heart and experience, we place those inside things out here for others to read and see our inside-out...."  To read the beginning and the rest please join me over at Emily's "Chatting At the Sky".

Browse around at Emily's and get to know her. I think you'll enjoy her as much as I do.

Prickly-Barbed Lines

Many stretches of the 'thorny fence' have been made crooked over the years. Small trees have become neighbors with prickly barbs to the demise of good straight lines. Last month, my Hubby went to task on a section in need. It required a complete tear down. Rotten fence posts, encroaching trees, and rusty wire left him no better choice.

Up with new posts, he wrestled with that razor wire to line them up in rows. At least the rust of the old dulled their edges for easier handling, not so with the new. Securing them requires a good amount of tension and good straight lines. Hard work and on-the-'job'-training, he subdued those strands into a fence. And topped them off with a shiny new gate. It's just one of many small steps to restoring this farm. Some already made...more still to come.

A heap of old rust and wire was wrangled up for it's departure from where it once stood. The old leaning lines have been straightened. At least on this section. What was lame was restored. Old and rotten was exchanged for clearer, cleaner lines. Leaning replaced with uprightness. 

I have leaned and rotted and rusted. I've chosen crooked ways by choices that encroached their consequences. I've dulled my edges with neglect.  I have rotted with worldly ruins. But He straightens our feeble lines. Hanging hands of despair are strengthened. Safe passage is placed underfoot so "that what is lame may may not be dislocated, but rather healed." Hebrews 12:13

"..Strengthen the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be dislocated, but rather be healed. " Hebrews 12: 12 and 13

This Tuesday, I'm unwrapping barbed wire. For more unwrappings, visit Emily's place at "Chatting At the Sky".

Pleasantly Disturbed Thursday--Link Up

My blog posts cross-wire to the more serious or dramatic side, but I love to laugh. I promise. So, I'm taking this Thursday, to let my hair down. Be pleasantly disturbed.  My family knows all to well my disturbessness. And disturbingly, I'm here to tell it. (It's my first link up....see bottom for details)

#1--I love words. Used to read a dictionary as a kid just to learn them. Phonetically I'm challenged. Which is why homeschooling has it perks. Some of my son's lessons left me saying "OH! that's how it's supposed to sound!"  It's the Texas accent.

#2--I used to be blond. As in lots of bleach. And forget the gentler products, I was hardcore chemical all the way. The green fume cloud that escaped my bleach cap couldn't have been good for brain cells. And pesky roots are downright stressful. Now au naturale, I occasionally have bleachy-fumed flashbacks 'blond' moments. I think I have PTSB's. Post Traumatic (from) Systematic Blonding.

#3--I like writing better than speaking. I love words. Yep, said that already. Thank goodness for Google. I can look up spelling and definitions. However, I can't Google sounds before they leave my mouth. Me writing: it's just better this way.

#4--Nature and outdoor landscapes always capture me. "Look! Isn't that just beautiful?" I say it all the time. I can't help myself. My family rolls their eyes. Then stare me down with the "Not AGAIN" look. Hey, at least I'm consistent.

#5--God has humor. He created us, so He created it too. That's why you might find me in a library trying to be quiet. Or quietly giggling. And when reading a really, really serious passage in the Bible I might bust out laughing. It's ok. Really. I'm just pleasantly disturbed. And it's Thursday!


Have a wonderfully disturbed Thursday. Because humor is a pleasant disturbance any day of the week. For more "Pleasantly Disturbed Thursdays" click the blue title and link up your own pleasantries. I'm also widget challenged and haven't figured out how to get the cheeto picture pasted here. But it's all a-ok. It's still Thursday, right?

Heat Of The Moment

It's been a long while since I've truly appreciated muggy, Texas days. Somehow I had relegated them to some hot, repressive backburner of where I used to live. Little did I know I'd be back again. My return was marked with minimal enthusiasm but the idea of living on a farm outweighed the mixed emotional bag of it all.

It happened that somehow I fell back in love. Texas seems different from way back when. The summer lilting a deeper appreciation among green-growing hay meadows, tar-topped country lanes and glistening pool waters warmed by Texas sun.  Poetic stanzas of bursting summer storm clouds alternated with days of clear blue make my heart glad that my feet are planted on this soil. I'm ever thankful when I notice the way light travels along our roof line in slow cascading waves of bright. Perhaps more so today than yesterdays. And I take grateful account of these days that yawn expansively east to west in their summer stretch.

Days of sun are soaked by water-kissed skin and anything exposed under it's glaring rays. Coconutty smells from sunscreen, family-friendly barbecues, and pure languishing leisure have marked this year's Summer reprieve. Every little bit seems brighter under the blanket of this season. This year seems special and good and God and I wonder if I felt it all the summers before. I'm sure I did, but it's been a while since I've felt anything in Texas.

Each season has a way of feeling unique in it's own right and causing us to bewilder it's stirring of our hearts. Summer is here in full-force. I embrace, savor, and bask in its promising rays. My skin warm like fever from summer's heat thankfully reminds me these days will never cease. Each year heralds summer with sun, may it also hark its warmth in our hearts.



“While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, winter and summer, and day and night shall not cease.” Genesis 8:22

"The day is Yours, the night also is Yours; you have prepared the light and the sun. You have set all the borders of the earth; you have made summer and winter." Psalm 74:16&17


Today I'm sharing at Bridget's Blog Carnival on Summer. For more Summer musings click on "Blog Carnival" . I'm also unwrapping Summer on "Chatting at the Sky" For more unwrappings click here. Feel free to go and leave your Summer thoughts or unwrappings at their place.

Endtimes--Not Just A When But A Who

"...Let us not sleep, as others do, but let us watch and be sober." Thessalonians 5:6

Perhaps you've experienced rapture/endtime burnout like I have. Where does it go awry in all our watching? I may not be a scholar of eschatology (return of Christ) but I have eyes. Lauded from the perches above congregations, sermons on the days of rapture (or endtimes) had a way of desensitizing my urgency of doom over the years. Every corner harboring a 'sign' can cause me to get tired of looking. It's not just about an event but a Person. Besides, knowing the exact hour or time of His appearing isn't for me anyway. God Himself said He's the only One who knows THE hour and THE END. So why do we watch?

"Woe to you who are at ease in Zion.." Amos 6:1:  Too not become 'at ease' or complacent in our hearts is one of the reasons. Our focus not on the timing, but Who's timing. God knows our sinful nature and our not knowing when is His purposeful design. There's a big space between here and there. To what degree we live it is the question. Our prescription for watching and fervor is keeping our eyes on Him who comes.

"Woe to you who desire the day of the Lord!" Amos 5:18 and "Woe to you who put far off the day of doom.." Amos 6:3: There are times we'd like to see our feet raptured out of troubles and life. Our flesh gets weary of the world and we have a hope that waits beyond it. But desiring 'the day' only fixates our appetites on an it and not a Him. This has been the foundation of many cults. Likewise, it's equally important we don't put the day 'far off' for it leads back to complacency like these: "who lie on beds of ivory, stretch out on your couches, eat lambs from the flock and calves from the midst of the stall...and anoint yourselves with the best of ointments, but are not grieved for the affliction of Joseph." Amos 6:4&6. Ouch!

Let's remember to watch and be sober for 'the day', keeping our eyes on the One who has the days in His hands. Having a relationship with the One who measures time is the why in watching for the time and 'the day'. May it gives us boldness to speak of Him. Although that day awaits Christ, He doesn't wait. For there is a time we can know the One of all time and that time is today....

This belated "Walk With Him Wednesday" is about drawing Him closer today, the One created the day. Visit Ann's place for more walks with Him.

Half-Past Freedom

It's a half-day past freedom. The one marked and labeled independence over two centuries ago. A nation began from the throes of war still marked by the blood of battle. Victory birthed the infancy of a nation.  By a stone the giant was defeated by hands of smaller stature. A lesser equipped, ill-trained, weaker part was made strong in the face of impossible. Because when we are weak, HIS is strong. And the battle belonged to the Lord....and so a nation was birthed in our hands. A new nation delivered in freedom like Christ who paid for ours. With blood and sacrifice. 

The liberty to accredit a nation to the Creator has slipped since the days of it's beginning. Freedom wanes under the label of another type "independence". One dependent on excluding God in the offense of sensibilities. In the absence of "higher power", we're left to what? Each his own? Life as a Godless nation and hope in self alone, seems emptier than allowing His higher hope beyond ourselves to have space in a nation. May we the created, in the very least, have the freedom to openly acknowledge the One who created. For the battle still belongs to the Lord and we are given into His Hands. The Potter is master of the clay and is molded according to His purposes.

"Then David said to the Philistine (Goliath), “This day the LORD will deliver you into my hand...Then all this assembly shall know that the LORD does not save with sword and spear; for the battle is the LORD’s and He will give you into our hands.” 1 Samuel 17: 46, 47

"Inasmuch as these people draw near with their mouths and honor Me with their lips, but have removed their hearts far from Me, and their fear toward Me is taught by the commandment of men...Surely you have things turned around! Shall the potter be esteemed as the clay; for shall the thing made say of him who made it, 'He did not make me'? Or shall the thing formed say of him who formed it, 'He has no understanding'?"

 Isaiah 29:13&16

For more gratitude journeys visit Ann's place.   My Gratitude begins here:

---"Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!" Thankfully it's not considered 'hate' speech...yet.

---Fellowship in Christ with good friends, where laughter is the best medicine for a soul.

---Grilled, yummy steaks that are free too. 'Nuff said.

---Staying up late (way past my bedtime) and worth every minute of it.  Fun has a way of doing that.

---Thankful for America's Birthday and the nation of these states. May we count the cost and have gratitude for the price that was paved in red. May God be IN America and in His people too.

Saturday Evening Post

Today is Elizabeth  Esther's evening post, a pick from last month's reflections. Click over to her page and feel free to add any of your own reflections from June. Mine was "Surgery, Death, and Power" since I've been spending this month recovering from said surgery. I've been learning the art of pacing myself in rest and care. 

Have a wonderful, fun-filled, and safe 4th of July!