Friday, July 19, 2013
Life
Once upon a time there was a girl, and time went slowly and falls landed
softer and things were simple. As the girl grew she met something she
did not expect... life. The wild stallion of life rose
up beneath her and began to move in sudden unpredictable movements, yet
she felt something deep within whisper. Creator's deep stamp of
approval beat within her chest, His utterance reached past the fear and
doubt and unknown variables and He only said "ride." With this one word
came a flood of visions of wind in her hair and untapped potential and
horizons yet to be discovered... and so the girl decided. She leaned in.
She gripped the reins. She rode hard.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
The Potter
The air is ripe with words. I feel it, thick and pregnant with ideas waiting to be tamed and transfigured through my lens. It's a good night for writing.
Today was just another day. Another day filled with frustrations and near misses. Another day full of situations I wish had gone better. Another day of new revelations, shattered hopes, and reaffirmed faith that I am not alone.
I found myself talking to HIM. He that knows me through and through and watched all the bits of me come together into an image of His likeness. He who smiled and breathed air into my fragile frame. He who called me forth out of the depths. He who likes me.
I was having a heated tearful debate with Him, I was at an impasse. I could not make myself move past a place that I had decided it was time to move on from. Healthy doesn't look like this. I want to be healthy. So, I need to look like "this." I have not been able to attain. I have come to the end of myself. Again. This always seems to happen.
God brings something to me... a fresh view, provision, a plan... and I say "Thank you! You are amazing!! I'll take it from here." And I proceed to show God how faithful I can be with what He's given me. But somewhere in there I cross a line, and what may start as good intentions turns to self reliance. And lately there's a vein I've tapped into in the scripture. God desires us to rely on Him. He orchestrated battles and armies so that they would know that it was HIM and not them that had gained a victory. He gives us story after story about the underdog who no one wants being the exact thing that He chooses to bring forth His plans and purposes on the earth. The unlovely rejected woman, the whore, the short, the deniers of Christ, the undesirables of society, the shunned, the widow, the dead people! Because its not about the vessel. Its about the Potter.
The end of myself is a pivotal and broken up mess of a place. When I've finally spun my wheels deep into the mud of life trying to prove what an amazing mom I am, what a great friend, how prompt, and clean, and spiritual, and loving... and, and and... trying to prove that I deserve to be here... I come to the end. And I can't remember why I'm doing all the things I'm doing. And I'm angry, and sad, and disappointed that my best didn't get me where I wanted to go. But I forget that I'm only going anywhere because he set me in motion. And I forget that I'm not building permanence here on this stopping off place we call Life. And my eyes turn in and turn sour as the stuff that doesn't matter in the end piles before me. Relying on myself for anything is just a big fat joke. The balance between being faithful with what God has placed in my hands to do and taking it upon myself to make things happen is a slippery place that I haven't quite figured out. A farmer friend of mine used to answer when praised for his crops, "I planted 'em, but God growed 'em."
But He likes me. And He picked me for this time, in this place on the earth, and He has stocked my heart, mind, and spirit with tools and seeds and talents. He values me. He values my "yes."
And He KNOWS ME. And He knows what I can and can't give. What could I possibly do for the God of the universe that He could not do?! Who am I but His clay? It's not about what I can accomplish. It's about my heart. It's about His heart. and Others Hearts.
Where do I get these crazy thoughts? The thoughts and lies that say that He is somehow shocked by my lack of determination, or my lack of dedication, or my lack of ability. It is to His Glory that He would use an imperfect vessel and call it perfect for His purpose.
And He ought to know. For He knit me together in my mother's womb, and He doesn't make mistakes. And I can choose to rest in His loving-kindness. And I can choose to believe that I really am enough. Right now. Not ten years down the road when I've finally achieved "XYZ character traits," or learned "XYZ truth." He delights in me, now. I don't need to worry about how or when I will "arrive," because I'm starting to see that it's really the journey that matters.
And it's challenging to accept, and it's messy and I can't see the big picture, but I can rest here and know that I'm safe and right where I'm supposed to be... here in the Potter's Hand.
Today was just another day. Another day filled with frustrations and near misses. Another day full of situations I wish had gone better. Another day of new revelations, shattered hopes, and reaffirmed faith that I am not alone.
I found myself talking to HIM. He that knows me through and through and watched all the bits of me come together into an image of His likeness. He who smiled and breathed air into my fragile frame. He who called me forth out of the depths. He who likes me.
I was having a heated tearful debate with Him, I was at an impasse. I could not make myself move past a place that I had decided it was time to move on from. Healthy doesn't look like this. I want to be healthy. So, I need to look like "this." I have not been able to attain. I have come to the end of myself. Again. This always seems to happen.
God brings something to me... a fresh view, provision, a plan... and I say "Thank you! You are amazing!! I'll take it from here." And I proceed to show God how faithful I can be with what He's given me. But somewhere in there I cross a line, and what may start as good intentions turns to self reliance. And lately there's a vein I've tapped into in the scripture. God desires us to rely on Him. He orchestrated battles and armies so that they would know that it was HIM and not them that had gained a victory. He gives us story after story about the underdog who no one wants being the exact thing that He chooses to bring forth His plans and purposes on the earth. The unlovely rejected woman, the whore, the short, the deniers of Christ, the undesirables of society, the shunned, the widow, the dead people! Because its not about the vessel. Its about the Potter.
The end of myself is a pivotal and broken up mess of a place. When I've finally spun my wheels deep into the mud of life trying to prove what an amazing mom I am, what a great friend, how prompt, and clean, and spiritual, and loving... and, and and... trying to prove that I deserve to be here... I come to the end. And I can't remember why I'm doing all the things I'm doing. And I'm angry, and sad, and disappointed that my best didn't get me where I wanted to go. But I forget that I'm only going anywhere because he set me in motion. And I forget that I'm not building permanence here on this stopping off place we call Life. And my eyes turn in and turn sour as the stuff that doesn't matter in the end piles before me. Relying on myself for anything is just a big fat joke. The balance between being faithful with what God has placed in my hands to do and taking it upon myself to make things happen is a slippery place that I haven't quite figured out. A farmer friend of mine used to answer when praised for his crops, "I planted 'em, but God growed 'em."
But He likes me. And He picked me for this time, in this place on the earth, and He has stocked my heart, mind, and spirit with tools and seeds and talents. He values me. He values my "yes."
And He KNOWS ME. And He knows what I can and can't give. What could I possibly do for the God of the universe that He could not do?! Who am I but His clay? It's not about what I can accomplish. It's about my heart. It's about His heart. and Others Hearts.
Where do I get these crazy thoughts? The thoughts and lies that say that He is somehow shocked by my lack of determination, or my lack of dedication, or my lack of ability. It is to His Glory that He would use an imperfect vessel and call it perfect for His purpose.
And He ought to know. For He knit me together in my mother's womb, and He doesn't make mistakes. And I can choose to rest in His loving-kindness. And I can choose to believe that I really am enough. Right now. Not ten years down the road when I've finally achieved "XYZ character traits," or learned "XYZ truth." He delights in me, now. I don't need to worry about how or when I will "arrive," because I'm starting to see that it's really the journey that matters.
And it's challenging to accept, and it's messy and I can't see the big picture, but I can rest here and know that I'm safe and right where I'm supposed to be... here in the Potter's Hand.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Return to Pooh Corner
When the last eagle flies over the last crumbling mountain
And the last lion roars at the last dusty fountain
In the shadow of the forest though she may be old and worn
They will stare unbelieving at the last unicorn
And the last lion roars at the last dusty fountain
In the shadow of the forest though she may be old and worn
They will stare unbelieving at the last unicorn
When the first breath of winter through the flowers is icing
And you look to the north and a pale moon is rising
And it seems like all is dying and would leave the world to mourn
In the distance hear the laughter of the last unicorn
"I'm alive, I'm alive!"
When the last moon is cast over the last star of morning
And the future has passed without even a last desperate warning
Then look into the sky where through the clouds a path is torn
Look and see her, how she shimmers, it's the last unicorn
"I'm alive, I'm alive.... " <Kenny Loggins, return to pooh corner>
And you look to the north and a pale moon is rising
And it seems like all is dying and would leave the world to mourn
In the distance hear the laughter of the last unicorn
"I'm alive, I'm alive!"
When the last moon is cast over the last star of morning
And the future has passed without even a last desperate warning
Then look into the sky where through the clouds a path is torn
Look and see her, how she shimmers, it's the last unicorn
"I'm alive, I'm alive.... " <Kenny Loggins, return to pooh corner>
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Be still and know
Opening my eyes this morning brought a realization of what today was... what it was supposed to be... and the pain and disappointment began looming before me. I reached my heart out to embrace it feeling that if I could face it head on now that perhaps I could overcome it later on in the day. But before I could do that I heard a voice speak deep within my Spirit... "Happy Anniversary" He said with a smile. It was the voice of my Beloved. I did not share His enthusiasm for this of all mornings, but knowing Him, I let my heart listen. "I am celebrating," He continued... "Ten years of love and faithfulness poured out before me." I must admit that this came as an unexpected response... I have been feeling that the last ten years were a "good try, Honey... but you missed it" or "well, that was almost it... try try again <wink>" maybe a "what doesn't kill you will make you stronger" But celebrating? Wow. Our thoughts are truly NOT His thoughts. And I am so humbled and relieved by His view of my life.
So in this spirit I am celebrating as well today. I am celebrating a decade of my life that I have brought before my King. Days and days and days of love and faithfulness poured over His feet. Just as there are seasons in the natural, there are seasons of life. And although I am mourning the sweetness of spring and the glory of summer, I do embrace the season of Autumn that I am in. I can see my leaves are dying and falling all around me, but I believe there is a reason that in the natural God caused these dying pilgrims to carry the brilliant, fiery colors that they do. They do not present hues of death and destruction but of strength and boldness and beauty.
My dear friend and mentor said, " Fall is when stuff dies... There is beauty in death but it only lasts for a little while. What we don't see is that all that death is preparation for the life that follows after a barren winter in the spring. The soil is enriched. Room is made for new growth and fruitfulness. Life goes on. (It always does)." And its true.
Joseph was stripped of his coat of many colors, tossed into a pit, and betrayed by those he loved. But God used the unkindness of others and maneuvered him into a place of favor. Because of God's faithfulness and (I believe) Joseph's willingness to be used in the hand of the Lord, He was placed into position for his ultimate destiny to unfold, for God purposed for him to feed a nation. I'm sure that there were many times in his life he would have felt his future was uncertain, and so many times he was wronged or misjudged. God sees. God hears. God knows.
So as the air is turning cold in my life and I can feel the long winter months are coming, as my tree is shifting and uncertain, as my coat of many colors is falling to the ground piece by piece and I see barren branches in its place... my heart will look up...
and I will see celebration spread across My Father's face as He breathes in the aroma of this perfume. This is the truth that I cling to, this is why I can look with joy on today and hold hope for tomorrow.
So in this spirit I am celebrating as well today. I am celebrating a decade of my life that I have brought before my King. Days and days and days of love and faithfulness poured over His feet. Just as there are seasons in the natural, there are seasons of life. And although I am mourning the sweetness of spring and the glory of summer, I do embrace the season of Autumn that I am in. I can see my leaves are dying and falling all around me, but I believe there is a reason that in the natural God caused these dying pilgrims to carry the brilliant, fiery colors that they do. They do not present hues of death and destruction but of strength and boldness and beauty.
My dear friend and mentor said, " Fall is when stuff dies... There is beauty in death but it only lasts for a little while. What we don't see is that all that death is preparation for the life that follows after a barren winter in the spring. The soil is enriched. Room is made for new growth and fruitfulness. Life goes on. (It always does)." And its true.
Joseph was stripped of his coat of many colors, tossed into a pit, and betrayed by those he loved. But God used the unkindness of others and maneuvered him into a place of favor. Because of God's faithfulness and (I believe) Joseph's willingness to be used in the hand of the Lord, He was placed into position for his ultimate destiny to unfold, for God purposed for him to feed a nation. I'm sure that there were many times in his life he would have felt his future was uncertain, and so many times he was wronged or misjudged. God sees. God hears. God knows.
So as the air is turning cold in my life and I can feel the long winter months are coming, as my tree is shifting and uncertain, as my coat of many colors is falling to the ground piece by piece and I see barren branches in its place... my heart will look up...
and I will see celebration spread across My Father's face as He breathes in the aroma of this perfume. This is the truth that I cling to, this is why I can look with joy on today and hold hope for tomorrow.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
A design idea
This fun and EASY project will add order to your cluttered craft area or (if you're like most of us moms with boys) just make throwing some coloring in for art and expression feasible. I had this idea a while back to use baby wipe boxes for storing art/craft supplies. They look so cute in a row on the shelf and it makes craft time and clean up easier.
I started buying wipes in different colored plastic boxes and using them for various things - they are the perfect size for markers, popsicle sticks, paint brushes, crayons, etc.(even loose stickers since they are deep enough to rummage through without dumping all of the stickers out... not that it stops my kids from dumping them all over the floor :) )
Then I simply wrote the name of the contents on the side with permanent markers in fun fonts... kids like the feeling of being self sufficient and getting their own things from the closet and sorting to clean up is a good tool for early math skills as well.
This picture is of my sister's closet... her girls use it all the time... my art closet on the other hand is STILL a mess ;) and has a lock on it since my boys have abused marker privaleges all over my walls, table, carpet... etc. but hey, without the boxes I would've given up on art for them a long time ago all together!!
Enjoy
I started buying wipes in different colored plastic boxes and using them for various things - they are the perfect size for markers, popsicle sticks, paint brushes, crayons, etc.(even loose stickers since they are deep enough to rummage through without dumping all of the stickers out... not that it stops my kids from dumping them all over the floor :) )
Then I simply wrote the name of the contents on the side with permanent markers in fun fonts... kids like the feeling of being self sufficient and getting their own things from the closet and sorting to clean up is a good tool for early math skills as well.
This picture is of my sister's closet... her girls use it all the time... my art closet on the other hand is STILL a mess ;) and has a lock on it since my boys have abused marker privaleges all over my walls, table, carpet... etc. but hey, without the boxes I would've given up on art for them a long time ago all together!!
Enjoy
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Diadem
Waking with the sunrise sounds so romantic. It wasn't until recently in my life that I realized that it truly depends on the circumstances of the night before. For example... having twins with colds who wake up throughout the night and are not able to sleep until they are in bed with you while you are also trying to nurse a baby who you are constantly aware may fall out of the bed at any given moment (or at the very least be covered in cold germs) because the bed you are trying to comfort everyone in happens to be a twin size. Finally the baby, after nursing, not falling(because you were holding him and not actually sleeping), burping, and puking on all the sheets has decided to wake for the day and wants to play with you. Giving up on any night time rest and throwing all your hope into the possibility of a nap later, you welcome the day (because it REALLY will come whether you like it or not) and your children who need you and greet the sunrise with an attempt to separate it from all the negative feelings of "I'm not ready for this" and enjoy the colors shining through the clouds or something simple about your life. I know that there will be a day when I will be old and wrinkly and my children will be grown and living their own lives. I will have many sunrises and sunsets to enjoy throughout my life and I will have ample time to enjoy them, so I'm determined to not let the way my day starts now or the way my night was affect my goodmorning smiles and kisses. I want to embrace my children and the new day. I want to throw myself into the small moments that make up a life - come what may. And as I've been sitting here for literally 7 minutes and have been interrupted more than 10 times-"shooing" children out repeatedly so that I can have a few Mommy moments to myself- I'm grabbing on to patience with all my might and choosing to embrace my life, and love even when circumstances don't make it easy... that's when the choice becomes Glorious. Rise up Glorious Women of God and receive your gems forged in secret, one day you will wear a crown in which they will be displayed openly and know that God revels in the loveliness of your heart every day when no one sees.
Monday, September 12, 2011
My Cocoon
As we transform in our lives from Glory to Glory we have times of hiding and of pain. We feed ourselves on life, we wrap ourselves in fine white silken threads and we give ourselves over to the process that must take place. We hide, we wait, we trust. We trust that one day we will sense the timing of the Lord and push through our burial garments into the freshness of a new day. We will hang on to our cocoon only long enough to let our wings dry before releasing the things of the past and taking flight. I have purposed in my heart to allow myself to be hidden... swallowed up in a safe but confined realm of not seeing, not hearing... but trusting. I have purposed to emerge triumphant in my own right... using the gifts and techniques that God has predestined in my spiritual DNA using the support of the environment around me, but the tenacity to get myself out... so that I will not end my process beautiful albeit lame as a butterfly released by man unable to form the strength needed to survive the world beyond... I will pursue strength and push into the fullness of what God envisioned when he called my name... I will fly in wholeness and beauty and freedom.
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