Showing posts from August, 2012

The blessing of peace

A prayer was birthed in fear just over ten years ago.  I had lost one who would never be born, and now in my arms I held the first who was.

I cradled all of this love and happiness in soft blankets while holding tight to the fear that he would be taken from me.  Thoughts of peering into his crib to see a resting form that would never stir burned into my mind, and it was only exhaustion that allowed me to fight my way into sleep each night.

Weeks passed and the unrest I owned was overwhelming.  I couldn't hold onto both fear and peace, so I slowly let fear go. 

One night as I held him warm and sleeping, I whispered into him that child prayer, "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep.  If I should die before I wake, I pray thee Lord my soul to take."

Can I tell you how hard it was to pray that simple prayer?  To, in a sense say, God if my son has to leave please be the one who takes him.

But I found peace in the heart of surrender.

Isaiah turned ten la…


My portrait
owns imperfect strokes
black and white
out of line
those muddled hues of gray
No stopping now
as I re-member
It takes time
to paint a masterpiece

Why we were created

I place the bits of plastic into each ear and hit start.  A machine rises from sleep and begins its circling as I run in place.  The music moves through wiring and straight into me, and a dry and tired soul drinks it all.

The dark of the basement falls away, and I feel light in words.  A mind turns them over again and again as they play their praise.  I lose sight of myself and what I feel now is all joy and thankfulness.

I steal a brief glance around the room to see my children busy with their playing, and I fall right back into pace, into place.  This time of forgetting all of me and breathing in all of Him fulfills the purpose of my life, of all our lives.

Eyes want to turn from what is right around me, and focus on the One who is inside me, and although my body moves I am still in my knowing.  Lips move silent with the words as I sing full my desire.

Blessed in the giving

I see his hands resting there on the arm of the chair, my eyes tracing lines of blue.  Ninety-one years his hands have worked.  They held love and babies and in time a wife who slowly forgot all of this.

This day his hands rest in the groove as he smiles on at the group filling his front yard.  They have come to serve, and he accepts the blessing.

They move straight into the working as all bend low to rip away the neglect that grew right into the heart of the yard.  I see them pouring out, and his smile speaks of one heart that is being tended to.

I look around and see this act of serving, and I feel the truth of it in my own smile.  It is more blessed to give than receive.

The sun slowly pulls the light from day but the hearts who gave shine bright.  And he sees it all from his seat on the porch, the beauty of light.

Matthew 5:14-16 New International Version (NIV) 14 “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden.15 Neither do people light a lamp and put …

Thankful living

It is underneath the surface, I can feel it bubbling close to skin and lips, burning.  How many times had it already escaped today, I wonder?  Spewing out of a mouth that should be offering kindness and love are the words of frustration and impatience heating right through the tender ears of offenders.

 I know it truth that I'm not meant to own it as I grasp it knuckle-white tight.  These foul ejections of pointing out the discontent of lives touched by imperfections coming from eyes and a heart that sees only in the dark.  But I want to break free.

Free. . . free from the struggle of feeling all wrong while trying to do all right.  Can I tell you how I wish that it were easy?  To force aside the ugly parts of the day, and claim the good of God and life and love. For love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not deli…

Grace as light

Often when life becomes difficult the little wheels and silvery parts begin their turning in my head.  A show I watch, hit pause and replay as the screen casts shadows on this face.

And its when I'm in the shadows that I most want the light.    

I search for shining as my words move out.  All the hurt and fear, the disappointment laid down in words from a heart that bleeds ink.

In the flow of thought, tiny bits of me drip on page and I see myself in part.  The puddles form some beautiful mess of living life all wrong and somehow, somehow grace is always there to rescue.  Again and again his crazy unfathomed favor makes it all right.

The blots I've left on paper white moves whole as His words illuminate the heart, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”