Sky

Lisa May's photos are some of the most beautiful I've ever seen. Her shots of clouds and trees and sunsets are breathtaking.

So today as I was browsing through some of her latest photo posts, a thought occurred to me that I thought might be worth writing about.

Ann Voskamp writes about living life from our knees, both in prayer and in mindset, much like a child. About how viewing life from the perspective of a little one gives us a whole new vantage point.

It was no accident that God said to become like little children.

As I was noting my favorites of Lisa's photos, I noticed that the ones I love most have the sky as the background. Whether clouds or sun or brilliant blue sky, they draw me in, call out to something deep within me. Something in the images make me feel very close to God.

And that's when it hit me. I don't often shoot photographs with the sky as the backdrop. Usually there's just "stuff" behind the subject, whether person or thing, and I never realized how much that can take away from the natural beauty of a scene.

It shouldn't surprise me to realize that the sky is perhaps the most majestic backdrop of all. When I was little I thought that was where God lives. And while I now know God's presence more intimately, I still like thinking of the sky as the place from which He beckons us.

Much of what a child would photograph stands a good chance of having the sky as a backdrop.

I can learn a lot from that.

The heavens declare the glory of God; 

the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

Psalm 19:1

She speaks in dreams.

I read the entry three times. I thought maybe by the third time I wouldn't cry. I was wrong.

Precious three-letter Ann, full of grace and sharing it all with us, reaching out her beautiful, humble hand that has cradled fragile bubbles and mended boo-boos and combed out grief tangles and reached for the moon, expressing a desire to help us all. A desire to help someone like me.

Why did I cry? Because I felt like she had been watching a playback of my life, listening to my dreams, hearing my heart for helping women the world over to speak theirs. She saw it and heard it all, and she wrote those words for me. And the longing of my heart is to do that for someone else. For many someone elses.

Funny story. I used to have this recurring dream of speaking at a conference to thousands of women, something like a Women of Faith conference, or something similar. In my dream I was an author of inspirational books for women. Over time I eventually managed to convince myself that even though that thought jazzed me to the core, things like that don't really happen to people like me.

Right?

I mean, the people who speak at those conferences grew up in Christian homes, never had years gobbled up by the locusts of abuse and family dysfunction, always had it all together.

But aren't there women I know, even personally, who have brought the brokenness of their pasts forward and risked it all by laying it out on the table? And I know why they do it, why I want to do it: because someone else needs to know she isn't alone. Someone else needs to know that He restores what the locusts have eaten and then so much more.

It's been my heart for as long as I can remember, this loving on others in Jesus' name. When I was little I always sought out the one person in a room that no one was talking to, sidled up alongside and said hi. Those people rarely rejected my silly-but-sincere friendliness, and many went on to become lifelong friends.

My love for writing has been with me my whole life, and has combined with my love for helping people quite nicely. The result has been more letters, notes, commissioned poetry and dedications, blog entries, and articles than I could begin to number.

It came naturally, like breathing, my passions all converging to form the perfect storm on the page and in conversations and in song, reaching up and out and painting with words the beautiful thing Jesus was making out of the mess that was me.

I know that if He can do it for me, He can do it for you, too.
And if He wants to do it for me, He surely wants to do it for you.

If He loves me this much, ordinary imperfect girl that I am with five kids and two grandkids and one beloved I'm still love-struck crazy for, a deep love for people and a heart full of wild dreams, He must also be crazy for you.


You, lovely one that you are, whatever you've seen, whatever you've done, wherever life has taken you.

You are not alone. And neither am I.

I, and hundreds of others just like me, keep asking God over and over for one thing: the opportunity to make a difference in a life. In just one life, and then another, and then more as He leads. We know that this longing was knit into us by Him at the forming, so all we are really doing is agreeing with Him and being true to our purpose: to love on His people and encourage them to love on Him and on one another.

I am nobody special, just a woman He created, a shadow of the Former who knit into me a deep passion for connecting with others and connecting them with Him. I'm so silly I get tearful every time I even talk about how much joy He has brought into my life just through the women He has given me opportunity to encourage.

I keep praying for more chances, more beautiful daughters of His to find a way to bless and with open hand direct all the glory back to Him. It's a dream too big to let go.

Know what my big dream right now is? To meet you. 

There is a lovely gathering coming up soon with this dream in mind. The SheSpeaks conference in North Carolina July 22-24, 2011 is being offered by Proverbs 31 Ministries and is a time of learning, fellowship, encouragement, fun, and celebration of the common purpose of connecting the hearts of women with the heart of God the Father. I can't imagine what a blessing this conference is going to be. I'm hoping to find out first hand. 

Would you like an opportunity for a scholarship to this treasure of an atmosphere? Please go HERE to enter. I would love to see you there. Walk in His grace, and perhaps our paths will cross in North Carolina. I would love that.

What Surrender Really Means (205-230)

 

I was reading chapter three in One Thousand Gifts (again) last night where she quoted Ephesians 5:20.

And give thanks for everything to God the Father in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ."

As I was thinking about the weight of this verse, I thought, Hey, wait...if that is Ephesians 5:20, that's the verse right before "Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ", and then "Wives, submit to your husbands".

So then I got to thinking how nearly every time I've ever heard teaching on Ephesians 5, it's always been approached (more like attacked) from the "wives submit" angle and it's either used as a bludgeon for wives or it's being pounced upon as an awful, archaic, patriarchal religious practice.

And I got to thinking that if vs. 20 was in place, was being practiced by His people, then the attitudes and behaviors mentioned in the next verses would already be in place.

In other words, if we were already giving thanks to God for everything, we would be living a life of Eucharisteo and we would already be submitting to one another out of reverence for Him.

Eucharisteo precedes the miracle. Thanksgiving precedes submission (which for many is truly a miracle, just saying). All joking aside, submission seems like such a miracle to us because it is the direct opposite of what our world teaches us--in commercials, on billboards, in schools--to set our sights upon.

Can't we see that submission is not a stiff sentence, but soft surrender to the Savior?

He breathed us into being. Surrender to Him is purest joy. All grace, all gift, all joy.


Counting on, toward the first thousand...
205. Teens who act nothing like the teens on TV
206. Little trip back to childhood in the form of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on bread soft and sticking to the roof of the mouth, peanut butter smooth and thick, jam painted on cheeks in a sticky purple grin
207. Coffee with Belgian chocolate toffee creamer
208. Hot cocoa from an adapted hot cocoa mix recipe
209. His sweet mercy in crisis
210. Being loved with an everlasting love
211. Knowing deep that He is always enough
212. Peace that goes beyond feeling
213. Pretty toes (but mostly the daughter who took it upon herself to pamper her mama)
214. Blog readers taking moments to comment thoughts
215. Gravy
216. Reading One Thousand Gifts for the second time, slowly
217. Chatting with a kindred friend
218. Life viewed through the lens of grace is different, changed, new, replete with hope
219. Time to walk away from my desk and think outside the box
220. Stillness for the knowing that He is God, and that if it is meant to be, it will be, according to His will
221. A husband who offers chocolate for the soothing of the melancholy
222. The rediscovering of family from long ago, photographs from a time that makes the heart race with memory's creaking hinges and shadowy images
223. Resolve to silence that preserves the bond of peace
224. An armload of chocolate on my desk
225. Hope between lines of sadness when the moon presses in close and wrings out mama tears
226. People in high places who remember what it felt like to be a little people
227. Memories of a Little People doll house, a mama, and her little girl, playing, laughing, saving up memories for later
228. Rain falling, breeze blowing, heart wording, all on a Monday at the hello of spring
229. Grins shared between us the way they were way back then
230. Rosie and Belle in Mama's rocker on the front porch

Abba (A Look Back)

April 25, 2003

God is doing a new thing.  A new thing as old as time, actually. 

He is awakening in me a desire to know Him like I've never known Him before.  I decided a year ago I wanted to be a God chaser, and I chased Him.  Some. 

But slowly over this past year and especially through the "Bow the Knee" musical, He has taken that spark and ignited it into a deep hunger that won't be satisfied with a mere taste of His presence. 

No, I know better now.  I feel like I've been with Him, and I know what it feels like.  There is no going back.

It's affecting every thought and action.  My introspection is no longer focused on myself, how I'm doing, if I'm growing, how I feel.

It's on Him.  It's on just how close I can get to Him.  Can I reach out and touch His face without my hand burning up?  Can I look into His eyes and not go blind?

Someone said in class a few nights ago that we are too familiar with God.  That our 'ease' with Him makes us disrespectful.  I can't swallow that one.  The non-confrontational side of me wants to fudge and say, "Oh, well I can understand what you mean..." but the truth is, I can't.

I can't believe God wants to hold me at arms' length.  Don't get me wrong, I don't want to saunter up to the Almighty and quip, "Yo, big daddy, whussup?"  I don't mean the kind of familiarity that loses sight of Who He is.

I mean the kind a child has with a parent who loves beyond all reason.  The kind that grows out of a love that sent His only Son to die so I could run up to Him and cry Abba, Father! and jump into His arms.

He showed up tonight.  I knew He would.  He returned my song as I lifted it up to Him and He smiled at me.  I asked Him to be there and He came.

He came.

Waking Up (Five Minute Friday)

I wake up numerous times in the night. Most of those times I feel uneasy, like I'm inwardly afraid something is wrong, or something is going to happen. I was hoping these nights were behind me.

Since I picked up One Thousand Gifts, life has been different. The moments have been lighter, more hopeful. I've been enjoying the feeling of peace that has infused my waking hours. It's been good not to feel the Enemy breathing down my neck.

But he isn't finished with me yet.

For me, it will be a matter of finding the most efficient way to keep myself reminded that I do not belong to him, that my life and my moments belong to the One who knit me together, the One who is enough. The one who makes it true how perfect love casts out all fear.

I want to wake up singing.

Do you read me?

Can being completely overwhelmed bring about something great? If not, don't tell me. I almost have myself convinced it will, so don't mess it up.

Maybe I should explain. I feel like I'm going through this metamorphosis (why is that word so difficult to type?) of sorts with regard to my blogging, and just my writing in general. I've been blogging for somewhere around ten years. That's a lot of years, right? You'd think ten years would be plenty of time to find your niche, yes?

Confession: I've started to wonder what is wrong with me.

The big problem is that there is just too much swimming around in this gourd at once. I want to write about everything! About having a lovely marriage even after nearly 31 years, and being madly in love with being a mama for 30 years (and a Mimi for more than 10), and about the highs and lows and all-in-between of homeschooling after walking the home education road for 23 years, and encouraging women--I mean, I've been one my whole life! And then there is friendship and mentoring and...well, see what I mean? Just too much. There is no focus, no little cubbyhole to sink nicely into and just fit!

Am I serious, or funny, or artistic? Is it possible to be all of the above? What does that even look like? What is going on that I suddenly find myself shrieking like a madwoman, "I want to write about that! And that! Oh, yes, and that!" I want to photograph everything in my world and share it (well, maybe not the kitchen floor right now), to capture in somewhat poetic wording this beauty, this craze, this wild and wooly and wonderful life--and all in a way that will draw and intrigue and encourage readers all over the globe.

I don't want much, do I?

I mean, it isn't like millions of us wouldn't adore doing that, right? I envision those poor unfortunate souls who happened across this entry today thinking, "Wow, lady. So you want to be a famous writer. Don't we all?"

And it isn't really even that I want to be famous (although I would be okay with that). It's more that I want to know that my words matter. To somebody. To anybody. That something I say impacts someone, makes a difference, brings a smile or a tear, makes a day brighter, challenges someone to think more deeply or share more openly or trust more willingly or guard a heart more carefully or live more gratefully.

So here I sit, pecking away at the keyboard and wondering if anyone will see this and if it will resound with another person somewhere on this big orb and form a connection, even a tiny one.

I'm thinking I might need to give up the dream of the email that pops into my inbox with, "Hey, we'd like you to write for us!" But I do know that I will never be able to give up the dream of being a writer. Because a writer, I am, because I write. Whether anyone ever reads it or not is really secondary to doing what God has called me to do, what He knit into my fabric at the forming.

And I suppose that as long as I'm going what He says to do, I can't go wrong. Right?

Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing. I Thess. 5:11

Accounting (188-204)

I smiled today as I wrote gift #203 in my One Thousand Gifts journal, seeing as how I'm one-fifth from the (first) 1,000 and have only used a few scant pages of the journal. So many more pages to fill, and I will. And then another journal and another after that. Hopefully there will be many more to fill in the remaining number of my days.

Ann writes of her days being numbered, and how the accounting hearts are the ones that keep track. I frown to think of how much I dislike math, and I'm pretty sure it hates me back.

Is that why I feel so bewildered today? Not depressed, exactly, just...down. Is it hormones, or a streak of sadness that this is the second birthday boy in two weeks I can't see on his day? Or is it a simple lack of accounting, and does this mean I need to learn to like math?

If I can count past one thousand, is that enough?

And the list grows and grows...

188. Beautiful friend held in God's arms, healed and whole and Home
189. Church bells ringing, carried on a March breeze to my bedroom window
190. Words of appreciation from a daughter's heart
191. Loving personal messages from Ann, full of grace
192. Ann's and the OTG community's sweet promise of prayer
193. Moon, beautiful moon, so very close
194. Creative-minded daughter redesigning her swimsuit
195. Clothes to mend (since I've got the sewing stuff out anyway...)
196. Moments to tell our whole church at once about One Thousand Gifts--a gift that continues to build into lives and turn eyes and hearts to Him
197. Waking in the night snuggled up to a beautiful girl-baby, little chest rising and falling in sweet rhythm, hair soft and wispy. Being a Mimi is moon-big joy.
198. An evening of hot chocolate and words woven and time spent with my beloved
199. Delighting in being faithful with the little things, just loving on the people along my path
200. The lyrics to "Take My Life and Let It Be"
201. Texting love notes back and forth with my husband
202. Pork in the crock pot simmering for a pulled-pork supper
203. Telling God He is good even when what's happening isn't
204. Middle child, cherished child, twenty today