Weary Wonder

These days. Messy and muddled. Fast and too slow. We adore all this blessing but ache to run away sometimes...

Maybe being a homemaker is this rhythm. Maybe it is this messy. This muddled mass of moments. Silly ones and exhausted ones. Moments, when as a mom, I am so aware I am not enough. 

When I am on the phone and doors are slamming amidst high pitched screams... 

When I am cooking and three year old beauty is far too quiet. Messes. Her. Going potty in the trash can and then getting that little bum stuck! Oh and is the soup scorching? Heart can't help but laugh all delight watching her try get out...only to moments later be crying over the soup. Cause I can't do it all. 

But I have to keep going. For them. For Him.

Potties stuffed with full packs of wet wipes. Dog hair endlessly all over the floor. Sticky counters and laundry mountains. Phone calls and mocking cluttered closets. This? Maybe.

Maybe this is what it is. Maybe if we let go of what we think we are supposed to be.... Just maybe we can grip thru the grime and find grace. Grace that keeps going when we just can't.  Because no mom is perfect. Because clean closets can still mean a dirty soul. 

Grace strong enough to help us see the sweet things. The boy who drops salsa but fixes problem on his own. The little man who knows his Mom's fetish with broken seals on food... 

Him placing art there to let me know he broke seal so I wouldn't worry. Who knew juice mustaches could calm a heart? 

I wish desperately I would take all those slow down and remember moments. The ones that remind my heart why I love being a mama. Why I am blessed to be his wife.

Remember! Remember. That today, it's your kisses that take their pain away...a picture of this incredible trusting faith.

That their sticky hands leave such precious small handprints that soon enough will grow and be gone.

 That those giggles you hear coming down the hall is the bubbling brook of heaven. 

These dirty dishes mean God did it again. Another day your babies sleep with full bellies and smiling hearts.

Remember how it feels to be the one in his arms each night. To be the one he thinks about at work, and comes home to each night. Remember you know how to make him smile just so. And how to pray because your the only one who really sees his battles.

I know sometimes it feels like we are the haggard giver. The endlessly unseen striver. I too, mark my food to protect moments of hideaway 1 minute vacations. As if dark chocolate in a closet and dried mangos in the laundry room can rejuvenate the soul. I know what it is to reach to rest. To cry alone in effort to get back up again. 

I just kept thinking today that maybe all this we feel is abnormal and ugly...is upside down beauty and grace. Maybe our messy rhythm days are normal. And in fact ripe for God to show that HE can.

Because as moms, lets face it. We can't raise these babies right, not without divine intervention! But that's just what he wants to do. To show you He never intended that you and your dark chocolate closet getaways could raise these crazy kiddos on your own. That maybe we are meant to feel worn right thru so He can be seen as people look right thru us. Maybe worn out jeans and a hole in the heart become windows. To anyone passing by that needed a glimpse of God. From someone who was comfortable enough to say, " I can't do this." 

When we thin out tired, miracles can happen. When we rub down to mere strands light can come thru. Maybe being the stay at home wife and mom is Chiffon grace.  For God and all this glory. Just maybe.

Maybe if we risk rubbing raw we will rest in not having it all together. With our houses. Our babies. Our health. Our social life. Our marriages. Our hopes and our helps. Because us not having what it takes makes us perfect. Perfect for God to show His muscles. For testimony that's raw, real, and genuine to fly out of our homes.

Because God can raise our babies to love Him. To love the least of these.

Because God can heal our marriages in areas that feel hopeless.

Because God can calm the restless baby, and change the heart of the angry mom.

Because God can make piles of laundry, mountains of thanksgiving.

Because God can make a dirty, cluttered, messy house...a safe place for souls in need. In need of love. Hope. Or a cup of coffee. In need of people who will leave the task and choose the person.

Because God sees beauty in the tired tears of a mother's heart. Poetry in the prayers of the beseeching wife. 

What He can do with the raw of heart. 

Our messy moments. Our clogged toilets, and crusty pots... Lost shoes and musty closets... These can be windows of grace. Opportunities to know Him true. Witness Him in the messy homemaker life. Make that your goal instead of the cleanest house and poised children. Because there is no greater happiness, or joy, than seeing glimpses of God. 

"He who has received His witness has set his seal to this, that God is true." ~ John 3:33

Live in the messy and tell your kids that story. Love when it hurts and sing that song to your husbands heart. 

God. Is. True.

I reach to organize because I want to feel in control. But really, I just crave peace.

When we see glimpses of holiness, we can't help soul's change. He moves us. All this mess can become this magnificent ballet of hope. This story that tells others it isn't perfect people that make good kids, it's a loving God. It's real people living raw. This thin Chiffon grace.   

So let them see. I cannot raise my babies on my own. I rely on my God and all His crazy grace. I cannot respect my beloved man in the way he craves without God and his sweet revealing to my frail female heart. I will not have a perfect house and an immaculate microwave...but i hope my home is a safe place for many. I am thin. Raw. Tired, but true. I am in need...and I delight in His answer.

" For, behold, I am for you, and I will turn to you, and you shall be cultivated and sown." ~ Ezekial 36:9

Dirt can be beautiful when it receives the seeds. 

So smile at the dirt you see all over your house this week. Your home is garden. Your heart is garden. Dirt is grace for the growing. 

You are loved tired Mamas'. And always noticed. Be blessed, the Cultivator is near.

Cracked Grace

All month long. This struggle. Been there? This willingness and want to know the right way thru, but your blind? Fog. A smoke screen. This thick that seems to stumble your step.

Those marriage discussions that seem to topic dizzy. Round and round we babble without resolution and seeming oneness. 

Children. Those given us, so different one from the other. How to truth nurture each soul to HIS design of them. To teach and raise them up. To make them hungry. For Jesus. 

Friendships. We hurt when they do. Because love matters. Wishing we could do more for their burdens. So we pray. Hearts full and heavy.

Extra expenses, because this health we crave, will not cooperate. Will not make a permanent home in these bones. 

It all just comes, too much sometimes. And when we have a willing heart to obey thru, but He stays quiet, what do we do? We must keep seeking. Never stop friend. It's the seeking that keeps our eyes open to God in the minute. We can witness Him true even when we can't hear. He can be seen in the "just wait". Tasted in the famine.

Sometimes He has to build our hunger. For Him. 

Us desperate and ready.

Ready to still when His voice does come. Ready to awe at His accuracy. Ready to open our hands to Him in this now.

In the tired.  In the "I can't take it anymore".  In the sleepless nights.  And the tear filled days. In the "I don't understand."  In the soul agony of feeling alone.

  Hands. Open. Hungry to just have Jesus. 

Because He cannot be near without the filling. And contrary to our flesh's rational, open hands are never empty. 

Whether letting go, or receiving. We hold a gift.

This upside down way of living. Not clenching tight to maintain order. Not knuckle white to keep safe. Rather palms up to be given life. Life that slows us when everything else says to cram in and speed up. Order rarely comes from the fast and lurching heart. It is gift to remember He is king of backward beauty. 

Insane sensibility.  Awkward composure. Un-bordered safety.  With Him, open hands that would seem vulnerable to no good, become embraced in His holy "Yes." 

We are never safer than when we receive the manna.

Life has these deserts. These places of scorching heat that sear soul. Wind whipping sand so hard upon us we raw. Thirst so constant it may kill us. But God....  Water comes from the rocks. Food falls from the sky. Shade comes from a tree that had no right to be on that desert floor.  When we look up. Past the noise, messes, pain, and loneliness... Look up beyond the hard things... We will always see manna fall. Snow bread landing light nourishment on our soul. Life giving provision that meets lifted hands again and again. 

Say yes to what He allows. Thank Him because He is always good. Because He is worth it. Because you are always loved. Because open hands lead us in to what we ache for. This haven. This place to breathe again. This perspective altering refuge that just might heal us whole. 

 

Today he slowed me with cracking glass. Sweet boy, playing all joy, makes picture window crack. Maybe that was divine. Cause I feel cracked too. That noise of popping glass filling me today... What if I shatter? What if I can't do it all and my shards cut people on my way down? But my upside down Savior stops me sweet. I had to see the glass cracked to bend the knee. To lift up blind eyes and see. 

Sometimes we have to get hungry enough to slow.

Today I am thankful for little hands and cracking glass. For rhythms that don't make any worldly sense. 

I lift up open hands and soul breathes. Because with my Jesus, shattered glass mine as well be diamonds. He's just that lovely.

Be blessed today. Say yes to manna on upturned hand. His provision never ends.

" For, behold, I am for you, and I will turn to you, and you shall be cultivated and sown."  ~ Ezekial 36:9

"When my anxious thoughts multiply within me, Thy consolations delight my soul."

~ Psalm 94:19

May I become

I love that word. Because it happened to me. When His love broke thru my scales. And it has been happening to me ever since. I am becoming.

He calls us out. He sings us out into all this becoming. Becoming what He has named us. Becoming the art He stamped upon our souls. Becoming into Him. 

Becoming simply because I am near Him.

Have you ever tried to force what you wanna be? I spent 28 years doing that. We wear the clothes of the image we want to project. We adapt verbiage into our vocabulary that fits what we aim for. Hide  within ourselves what doesn't fit. What doesn't fit what WE have set up to be "us". So we tire. Endlessly trying to be what we are not supposed to. Or at least not in our own making.

I remember the day I was at that rodeo. I had on the boots. The hat. And that shirt that stated it. "Cowgirl". I hooted and cheered for barrel racers and bull riders. Quietly hoping I looked as at home here as I wanted to be. The rodeo was fun, but it ended. This man came up to me and said, " so do you rodeo? Your a true cowgirl huh?" Heart sinks into this pit. It always does when we are found out. Found out in all this posing. 

"No. But it's the dream," I reply. 

What's true cannot stay buried. By His own nature, all truth, like Him, must rise. Truth testifies. Posing cannot. I went home that night heavy hearted. I was not a cowgirl. Did God give me a deep love for His outdoors. Yes. He has done that. Did He give me this unexplainable feeling of being home when I am near horses? Yes. He has. Did He give me soul smiles from the moment I witnessed my first rodeo? Yes. That was Him too. But He had not made me a cowgirl. Not yet anyway. I had to realize I cannot make myself "become" into a dream. Only God does that.  I can only stay close to Him, enjoy Him, and all these loves and "bents" He has given me. Letting Him work out the why and the when. Letting Him ordain the becoming. Sometimes it will be in a way I hadn't thought of, for reasons I can't fathom. The loves He puts in us are not pointless like we fear. We are afraid, so we force. Instead we should just seek Him thru the bent of soul. Enjoy Him in all this horseflesh and leather. I know that now. 

That night. Those years back. I took all those cowgirl shirts out of my closet... Because for now, I knew, they didn't become me. It's hard to let go but still savor a tendency He has indeed placed in our souls. I love the sound of the earth under my cowboy boots. I love the smell of horses. I walk up to one and something in me comes alive and feels at home. But for now, I live on a farm that has no animals accept my two sweet dogs. Do i like having an empty barn? Do I like feeling these loves without seeming purpose? No. Not always. Sometimes the love feels like hollow hunger. But I have learned to trust God with them. Because I believe He has His reasons. I can enjoy in my own skin. Without posing statements written across my chest. You know what's beautiful? Feeling with your own skin who He is. In all these things. Without a $10 false t-shirt to stand in between. 

 

God wants the testimony. Our story is His to write. When we force, even the design that's in us, our story skews. People around us sense this unnatural. They can't quite figure out why they aren't fully comfortable around us. I have had that said to me. Back when I forced images. The cowgirl. The virgin. The pastor's daughter. The "So wise for being so young". The photographer. It was endless really. What saddens me most is when I realized how posing hurts others. A lot. Living out a lie does that. Especially when the poser bears the name of God. We attach what people think about us to how they see the God we claim. This realization broke me. 

God doesn't pose what He wants us to think and be something else in the end. 

He doesn't live with a loophole in His back pocket. So when I do, and I make it known I am His...my story, His story skews. Posing simply cannot testify truth. Raw beauty comes only thru the becoming. The ones lost in the rhythm of what He intends them to be. Raw beauty always flourishes.  

The last few years it has happened slow, but sure. Sure because He wanted me to be His art, not my own. The God of glorious sunsets and towering mountains wants to show me how beautiful I am. In His design. A reflection of His image. He wants to help you become masterpiece. 

You. Can. Become.

You are bearing the strokes of His brush. The shape of His guiding hands on potter's wheel. And if you fight His rhythm, you will bend and shape unnatural. You will tire. You will miss out on being apart of His grandeur full! You have these loves, these curiosities, these gifts, these abilities for a reason. Ask Him about them. Be near Him in them. Be thankful even when you don't know why. He has a plan. 

Let go. Of posing.

Let Him, "become" you. Making you into art with story.

The authentic people don't need a tshirt. You know the ones. You are just around them and you can quite literally experience who they are. Sense this beauty unexplainable. It's God friends. God moving and enlivening a soul HE designed. Thank Him for what you see in others, and trust Him with what you don't yet understand in yourself. 

It's ok. You are beautiful. With your silly loves of things you don't quite understand yet. He never creates without purpose.

So here is to the brave. The white tshirt wearers. Raw and ready for their story to unfold. 

The soul. Beauty clay in the Potter's hands.

When we are real, we know Him raw. We find joy in being His. Start there. Pull in to all His love. Let Him unfold your soul.

" love...does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own." ~ I Cor. 13:5a

" And God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created Him; male and female He created them." ~ Genesis 1:27

" For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them." ~ Ephesians 2:10

Moments of holy

I seem to have the best of conversations late at night. Or I really should say very early morn. Sometimes it seems it is meant to be a holy place. The world quiets and hearts ponder. And sometimes in a moment of His holy, they open.

This past week it was in the grocery store.  I had just come from a divine and sweet chat with my dear cousin and friend. This chat too was holy. Holiness and love all wrapped up in 12:30 Am. Then off to get those necessaries at the store, real fast, before bed. Checking out in self check after my rushed run thru. Him there. I have always noticed his searching eyes. He risks for that moment, " I haven't been myself in two years." I stop. Moments. We don't get to design when we impact, but we can decide to receive the times with grace. I listen. Trying my best to hear where he is going, where he is trying to say he came from.  I mutter out the guttural WANT to help, but nothing really divine escapes my silly mouth till the end. This I see. He is lost. He knows God, or at least about this Jesus. But he cries out empty. I heard that at least. So...I let go of all the "what I am SUPPOSED to say" thoughts, and then it comes. The simple. And when I say it I feel Heaven's holy. " Henry. Tonight I am going to chatt with God. About you." He stops attentive and quiet. As I walk away I turn and say what we all long for. " He loves you Henry." Again. This holiness in a moment. Was it me? No. Am I smart to have discovered after random blabber what to say? No. It's God. It's His way. He always knows the sweetness of what is needed in a moment. He is accurate.

There are graces in grocery stores. Moments in all life's mayhem. Sometimes we blow by them. Because we feel the Henrys'  should know we really need to be in bed...not here at 2 Am.  Funny thing is, I am realizing that we are afraid of God unexpected. What will he have me do? We complicate the simple in a an attempt to protect ourselves. Because really. They are just people. Hungry and aching for the same thing. This love. That won't fall through. That can hold even them. So I've been thinkin. Maybe this is one of the reasons why people are the heart of the second greatest commandment. "Love your neighbor as yourself". When we know love ourselves, when we know God.... Then we can see people. Just these people. At 2Am or 3pm. "Love The Lord your God with all your heart." And then. Them. These. The least of and the random.

So. I go into liberal Starbucks and I see the name tags. I try remember the tidbits of their lives they offer. Why her parents named her Margy. The hurt behind why that other afternoon shift barista believes women need the option of abortion. Divine moments. Moments i can shed light on His value of life. The grumpy manager. She too needs eye contact and a smile. She resonates the pain of believing she is unseen. So. I pray His holy here too. In all this liberal. In all this lost. Truth is stark. But so is love. Sometimes we forget to second commandment before we open our mouth. "Love them Elizabeth."  Love has a voice. Love has this story that no ear can seem to shut out. This intrigue fed by our need. Love leads people to its source. To contemplate. Him. 

Maybe being worried we won't know what to SAY isn't the point. Maybe that's the enemy's sidetrack. The track we chase our tails in, again and again. The place we open our mouth and insert our foot into. The place we shirk the personal before us and say the writ of what flies into our brains. I am learning something. Something I may be scoffed at for and called indulgent for. And that's ok. I know what His nearness is teaching me... People can hear the right words in what you think is the perfect time. But if they don't know love first it bounces off. Liberal ho-hum? Love the whole world and be mushy gushy? No.

 " if I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love, I have become a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal." (Vs.1 of 1 Corinthians 13)

 We can hurt people's ears. We can tell the wrong story about a very personal God. Hear that. Sober in that. Please. That hole God put in your face, that words can gift out of, can also become a weapon! Even when saying "right" words. I am not saying we need to pad the truth. Water down the power of its punch. I am saying that I resonate what God has placed all throughout scripture for us silly stupid sheep. Love prepares His way. So the punch of truth buries the seed safe and deep into a personal heart that is ready. 

Maybe we should ponder our love impact beyond our mouth impact. 

Because God sure seems to remind us in His word. A lot. Both thru example and direct command. Jesus didn't boycott the Whore. He loved her clean. He didn't shy away from the annoying tax gatherer. He saw a disciple. He didn't fling His Dads words and keep walking. He stayed and had supper with them. At their table. And all that love made all those words...all that powerful truth receivable. Even craved. 

I always wished I could make my own WWJD bracelet... Only the letters would be HWJL. How Would Jesus Love. Because for me, it gets this mouth a whole lot farther. His love came to this well taught, poised and composed truth flinger and changed me. Truth I was blessed to be around back then didn't seem to soak in. It didn't find a home settled, until He told me of His love...for me. 

That the cross. Was for me.

That He and I can have a love relationship that's  just us two. Couplet. 

That it can be that way for everyone. Gloriously and individually divine. Love broke through all those right words I knew, all the scripture I memorized, and breathed me into alive! My eyes opened. My understanding throbbed full. My hunger grew. My smile found its genuine. Because His love is a game changer. It's a matter of life and death.  And the scary thing is, He entrusts that story to my tongue! I can set fires and burn down hope. Or this. 

I can Love is patient. 

I can Love is kind

I can Love keeps no record of wrongs

I can Love bears all things, hopes all things, endures all....

I can Love without envy. Love without boast.

I can then see. Love never fails.

It really never fails.

There is a family here on these Kansas plains. They live like this. Even though they have been judged. Misunderstood. Pushed aside by their own people, Christians. Still they keep on.  Because see they have caught this. That God makes loving people the second greatest commandment for a reason. So I watch. Again and again as even the "Judgers" are silenced. Because they can't get around all this fruit. In the lives of the liberal youth changing. In the healing soul of the cast off divorced. In the rising hope of the orphaned at heart. Love stories of Jesus falling about this college, this town, this state, this Country. People have come to discover. Fall in love with. And want God... because of how they love. Like apples falling off a tree in summertime. All this fruit. Ripples of what God continually does because they said "Yes." to Jesus' command. "Love Me. Then love them." 

The way. They love. 

It's beauty. His.

We have moments of holy thrust upon us. More often then we realize. I just want to ask you to ponder. 

People. Moments God gives you. Moments that can't stay long. Use them full. Use them well. Tell a love story. The world is full of soap boxes with agenda. Soap boxes of liberal horror, but also so sadly, of misused and wasted truth. Flung out carelessly. Next time God gives you a moment of holy, dare ask a question. Not what was I trained to say. Not what am I expected to say. But rather , " God. How can I tell them they are personal to You? How can I help them taste Your love. Your story."

Then. Wait. 

His love sometimes seems to take a moment. But His love always comes. He will show you how to use the hole in your face for grace. He loves using the weak things of this world. Glory! Oh how I thank Him. 

This tongue needs Him. Needs to slow and remember to tell a love story. His story. And I ache with the prayer that I will honor Him well. Because I don't bear the gift of His testimony lightly. No one should.  

1 Corinthians 13.

 It's a place to start.

A Tapestry with Testimony

"And you have put on the new self who is being renewed to a true knowledge according to the image of the One who created him--- a renewal in which there is no distinction between Greek or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian,Scythian, slave and freeman, BUT CHRIST IS ALL, AND IN ALL....

And so, as those who have been CHOSEN OF GOD, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience;

...bearing with one another, forgiving each other, whoever has a complaint against anyone; just as The Lord forgave you, so also should you. AND BEYOND ALL THESE THINGS PUT ON LOVE, WHICH IS THE PERFECT BOND OF UNITY.

And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called IN ONE BODY; to be THANKFUL. Let the word of Christ richly dwell within you, with all wisdom, teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing WITH THANKFULNESS IN YOUR HEARTS TO GOD.

And whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of The Lord Jesus Christ, giving thanks through Him to God the Father."

~ Colossians 3:10-17

This can be the power of God in women. If we let comparison go. If we find our value in Him. In Him alone. Then just as it says, " CHRIST is all, and in all." We will become a story. This vibrant tapestry of testimony. This testimony of what love can do.

This incredible song that tells this world, of hurting women, they are loved. With a love that surpasses all understanding. A love that rises above comparison. Because we each are exquisite pieces of His beauty. Made in the image of His breath-taking Son. 

What if we stopped shutting women out because we are threatened somehow. What if we stopped our first thought the moment it picked up compare? Her size. Her personality. Her husband. Her faith. Her struggles. Her voice.... They were not chosen for you. Stop covet-ing and start loving.  We all ache to find grace in who WE are. In who this wonderful God made us to be. You are lovely. Made just like this because He likes it. Those hips. That smile. Those eyes. That soft spot for those people. That tendency toward giving things away. The way you can give life flavor. Your laugh. Your heart to keep your door open. Your passion for freedom and it's colors. Your willingness. Your quiet strength. Your heart to fight forward when you are so tired. Your never giving up on your man. These are art ladies. Pieces of Him, in you! Celebrate what you see in other women. Because if you pay attention, you'll glimpse God.

You will find grace where you thought you would find not enough. 

Comparison always leads to empty. Who wants an empty soul? Comparison leaves you less, or puts another woman "down" as not enough. Hear that! Do you want to say that to her? We fill in God. We significance in God. We become in God. We find a home. When you know where you belong, and from Whom you fill, you are set free. Free to see all this beauty around you. Pieces of Him in every place. Pieces of Him in every woman. You don't have to measure up against another. You are complete. Lovely just as He made you. Strokes of His artistry on the canvas of now. So then. Let go.

Give another woman the gift of being herself. Comfortable in her own skin. Help her celebrate the bend God gave HER soul. When we know our maker looks upon us and says ," it is good ", we can live full. We can pass this fullness forward. You can. Don't shun anymore. Don't  shut out as if she is outcast. Become His welcome. To her.

He says what we do unto the least of these, we do unto Him. Yeah. That applies here too. So love Him, by welcoming her. We all reach our full potential when we see as God sees. Look into her for pieces of Him. When we see God, we put down the measuring stick. Let go of the ruler and become grace. You will minister. You will empower. You will raise up. You will become a friend. 

These women I see around me have moved me to tears many times. It has become one of my greatest joys to love them. To know them. To tell them they are beauty! When I pull back and look at us all... This tangled calligraphy of graces... I am speechless. We are so much of Him. This God I have fallen in love with. I recognize His sweet in these before me. They are yet another way I know His heart. His love.  

Art. Masterpiece. Gliding brush against her sweet face. He and her are personal. Respect it. Celebrate it. A woman discovering she is lovely to Him is one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. I beg to be apart of such gift. May He use me as His welcome. His invitation, to her, to discover she is masterpiece.

You are lovely. 

And so is she. 

Know this.

We all beautify under grace.

 

Vibrant Grace

Oh! These leaves! It seems each day I get up to do devotions, in that favorite spot. That place. The one He pulls me in close to be near Him... I have looked out my window to new scenes of Autumn glory. His colors and crisp lines of grace and story. There He goes again. Spinning crisp air, geese a flight, and yellow leaves twirling down soft....messages. Memos of His attention.

I wasn't wanting fall yet. I was focusing on what was leaving instead of on Him coming kind, in new ways. I wanted hummingbirds to stay, flowers to glisten sun, and me parked on front bench to last longer. Clinging to a passing season doesn't fill us with its joy. It drains it away. He had to call me back to focus this fall's dawning. One way He did was thru my favorite Mullberry tree. He had her poise so silly. But her message? Ha! Look....

When we cling to what is passing, instead of thanking for what is now, we kind of...well. We Mullberry. We become awkward. We can't get lost fully in His graces now, because we are believing that the season we just had is better. How could we know that sunsets can shine most glorious thru trees that shed raw? That what feels naked and vulnerable at first, can be silhouette against His skies! That our truest beauty can become stark and breathtaking. To silhouette isn't to become naked, it's to become outlines of His grace. Lines of poetry against sky all fire.

So. I opened my hands. Palms up and receiving. To Autumn grace. To saying "yes" to yet another season of Him telling me of such love. A love I can savor long with Him. Like warming hands on hot coffee cup. Like the noise of crisp leaves under these feet. These leaves that twirl down to new places still beauty. Water that comes rain, so these leaves so bright can stick close to me longer. All over my yard, all over roads and common places... Color. His.

Make this season a witness season. Not of what is passing away, but of what has come. Each season of earth rhythm is gift. Just another pocket in which we get to search out His attributes. God isn't taking your warmth away. He is reminding you of where your warmth comes from. Him. So let your leaves fall. Let them twirl all story. Let them lie on crisp ground, vibrant! Let them beautify the way of the walking. He knows we struggle to lift these eyes. We focus hard, eyes down to find the way thru. So these leaves. These colors. We walk head down and still He comes. He brings color even down low. He knows we will look up to find from where such color has fallen. 

He always lifts the head.

Look for grace. Fall into thanks that gives. To You and others around you, life! Don't believe He is taking your warmth and leaving you barren and chilled. He just wants you to see. To really know it deep. He is warmth. It is from Him we receive the chaser of chill. So silhouette for Him. Say yes to trust. That even leafless you can be warm. A stark beauty to a cold world. 

Silhouette His kindness

Silhouette His love and all this grace

Silhouette His way of seeing

Silhouette His possibility. His promise.

Silhouette His welcome. Him as home.

We all silhouette something. A confused Mullberry...Or an outline of Amazing Grace.

  What do you glory?

May it be Him. To a world that needs to see. So desperate. He doesn't leave us when our leaves fall. He is constant. He is kind. He is safe. He is trust-Worthy. He is beauty. He is...

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound

That saved a wretch like me

I once was lost

But now I am found

Was blind, but now I see!

Grace has brought me safe thus far. And Him...Grace. Will lead me home.

Reach your hands out. Dare to warm them over His fire. It is enough. He is enough.

Be blessed. And when you see bare tree against high sky... Smile. You can glory like that. All Him. A frame of His truly Amazing Grace.

How sweet the sight.

" I will say to the North,  give them up! And to the South, do not hold them back. Bring my sons from afar, my daughters from the ends of the earth. Everyone who is called by My name, whom I have created for My glory, Whom I have formed, even I have made." 

                                    ~ Isaiah 43:6-7