A Witness

She is insistent. Eyes sparkle like sunlight on pond. She has found a joy, and she must find a witness to exude with! Three years old and she follows the yearn of it. I mean lets be real, we all want a witness. 

Don't we? Don't you? There is this ache. This hope that we matter. That we are worth that glance.

"Mama! Mama! Mama!" Endlessly the call out. "Mommy watch!"  When I turn... It's that smile that tells it. She has found witness. Her joy can be full. Now she can dance. Give in to the rush of deep giggle. She can rest lung... She isn't passed over.

Tonight as she asked  me to witness her life again. This time in kitchen. Over such glorious silliness. I could only smile. It's crazy really. We don't change. Not at core. We still beg witness. We still weary lung as we call out for someone to see. For someone to glance and smile. A pause that's personal. 

In sneaks up in alot of ways. Sometimes it's to spouse... Wondering if we still have the art of flirt. Wanting witness can be shear joy too. This amazing flood of letting go to pull Love in. Other times it maybe about  a friend. This deep fear we suffer, question haunt. Do they think I'm worth it? Will they witness the real me and not walk away.... At times inner circle. Our parents. Even as adults we still call out, "Dad! Dad! Witness me! See my life. Glance at me and wink that I was worth the head turning". Weird? No. Not really. We're hungry. Always this hunger.

Two things come to thought. One is this. When we witness someone's life moments, we give away a powerful gift. God loves like that. He stops and always sees. No matter how many times He has seen us twirl before. Because we matter to Him. Alot. 

This turning then, when done toward another, can be His heart touching that person. Us being used to be a holy voice. A voice that says it, like we need it. You are noticed. By God. And by me too. Don't be in such a rush you don't have time to glance at that elderly woman slow to push that cart. Look into her eyes. She matters. Don't be so busy you can't stop to see how high your son jumps from swing. To him it's close to the moon. And your spouse? Those baby steps to beat that habit and grow clinging to grace... That's huge. Stop! Witness the lives God graces you with. People are worth the glance. A glance can be a holy story.

My second pondering is this. Him. This God of incredible grace. This One who loves so endlessly. He always witnesses you. He not only glances at you, He savors it. He traces your hand as you grow. Grow up into grace. Into trusting this love. He smiles when you are brave enough to try that new thing. When you tremble letting go of the old. When you are tired, but do right anyway. When you grit teeth, stepping out to find out if He is truly enough. This journey of our faith is precious to God. You are precious to God. He does not turn His face. He is not too busy for your voice, for your plea..." Watch me! Please Abba, look into my face and tell me I am worth the pause. Worth a smile, an eye full of glisten. Worth the effort...Of Jesus sweat."  We cry it out. Just like three year old in kitchen. 

There is this. He isn't like human shun. There won't ever be a time when He won't be the doting Dad. Eyes full of delight over this child, this life... This you. The Word tells us His thoughts are so many toward us, we could not count them!! Stop. Hear this! He thinks about YOU so often, so much, you wouldn't be able to number the times.  ( Psalm 40:5) So. Then. It's ok if your Dad doesn't have the time. It's ok if he closes his eyes when your heart begs them open. There is One who sees.  It's ok if you are not the favored one. There is One who has given you HIS favor, overwhelmingly.  If you feel alone, friendless, lost, and passed over... You can rest now.  There is One who has chosen you. You.  Life has taken from you, people have taken. Rise up! There is One who has Given you His everything. 

It's hard to hear when pain is loud. Hard to see when reality has scarred. I know. I too have a story. It isn't a promise of easy that would save. Its Who. Who loves you? Who takes the time? Who stays close when you don't? Who smiles when your brave, and holds soft when your not? Who sees... You? God is always your witness. You are endlessly loved.

Next time you hear a "watch me!" from the lips of the small, remember this. HE does. Watch you. Witnesses your wonder and your hard. He always stays and has the time. Always.  And this too... Don't live so fast you miss the gift of being witness. To God and all this crazy grace, and to the people He puts in your path.

"As God as my witness..."  Mmm. Maybe we would do well to ponder that. 

Today, you are loved. Rest in it.

A Wife's Prayer

" Abba, we don't always know how to love these men you have graced us with. To show them encouragement and help in a way they receive it. To speak truth to help but not coerce. Oh Lord, we want to be wives after Your own heart. Women who love quiet when they need calm witness, and with words or actions when it's best. Teach us to sense You. To search for You before we jump in. Our men Lord. Please don't let them love anything more than they love You. Not even their own comfort. Give them the desire to bless You. With how they relate to their boss, co-workers, friends, and mostly their families. Be their first thought so they can truly see what is going on inside themselves in relation to You. Help us wives to be patient. Patient to allow you to be original with our men...as You are with us. And Abba, we hurt while we wait. Wait for them to want intimacy too. Fill us Jesus. Fill us where we hollow most. You are good, and exactly what we need. Thank You that we are always loved. We bless you for that. Help us rest now. In the sweet hope you hold the men we love most. May our love testify You. Amen."

Your husband is gift. Chosen. Designed just as God wanted. He had you in mind. The completion. You and he are fit. A fit that tells a story. Always a story. 

No matter how many years pass, love is still there. Because love is a person, and HE never leaves. Don't let go of vigilance. Over him. This man who butterflied your stomach on wedding day. Love him long, love him hard. Honor his name in public. Let him see your esteem. Let him see in your eyes that no one believes in him more than you. Be home to him. A place he can rest and trust. Carry his burdens safe. Don't treat his hurts lightly. The hard battles that seem will plague them forever... Be the quiet warrior. The unlikely hero...pray.  

When they know we think high of them, they are empowered. When we respect them to bless The Lord, they remember us throughout their work day. They will ponder this woman who somehow endures with them... When they know its hard. They will wonder at such love... They will turn to Gods face, seeking to be the best of men. When someone believes in us, deems us worth it, our feet are given the gift of tread. We can climb mountains! Give your husband the gift of the heights! Work hard to make it easy for Him to walk upon high places with his God. 

But what about me you say? What about me feeling un-pursued, misunderstood, tired, overlooked? There are miracles that live here. In this place of hard. The way of His kingdom! It's backwards. It doesn't have the taste of sensible. But oh how amazing to test it's truth... When we love first, trusting God with our hollow, we fill. We respect. We bless. We help. We pray. And God fills.  My hubby told me once that when I love him wildly, he is compelled to come and get me. That he thinks about me more. That he desires to become an even better man. That is the kingdom. God's rhythm. When we choose to meet God in His design for us as wives, our hubby's are inspired to flourish well in their design as husbands. Does this mean its all up to us, or that its our fault when we struggle in our marriages? No. I believe it would be the same if husbands lived well in their roles... We wives turn and respond full and flourishing. It's Gods way. Love that is selfless always bears fruit. No matter who chooses it first. 

We cannot be wives of His heart in our own grapple. It has to be God. Stay near to Jesus, and be near to your husbands heart. It's that simple. There is no greater love than laying down ones life for a friend. Greater love hath no wife than this, that she lay down her life for her husband.  Lay down our agenda. Lay down our hopes. Lay down our worries. Lay down our pride. Lay down our hunger. Lay down our need. Lay down our ache. Lay down our goals. Lay down ourselves at the feet of Jesus. Only then do we see...we can live! We fill. We find content. We live well and empower. We bring hope. We help in joy. We smile in our tired. We serve genuine. We work faithful. We grapple productive. We love selfless. We see God. 

Anyone who lives for another will find life. Life full.

And we will become a friend of God. (Vs. 14)

Silence the enemy's voice in your head. The one that says you won't be remembered, filled, or noticed if you love your husband with reckless abandon first. It's a lie. You cannot love as Jesus demonstrated and not fill. It isn't possible. Because when we love like that, we fellowship with God. Him. Loving through us. As we lay down our life. Us rising full and unexplainable. Love that is not of self has a story. Always a story.

His.

So today. Pull back. Ask God for new eyes. The eyes of a wife with heaven vision. Ask to be acclimated to a kingdom gloriously upside down. All beauty. All full.

You ARE loved. First and always. By God. Be at home in that love. 

Miracles await.

They. A Tapestry of Grace.

I used to think a girl got one shot at finding a best friend, and then no one else was allowed in. Then God reminds that that's not His way. To have a friendship with one that can shun another... Block out other grace? It has been on my heart often of late. This incredible thing God can do with women. If we let go of narrow perspectives and stereo typical search. Women, when placed around us by God Himself, can become His love... A Tapestry of His very grace! They won't all be the same. They can't be. His design is always personal... With each woman... Each a bride of Christ...yet all apart of The Bride. Do you see? Friends can be like that. Like how He is personal with each of us, yet groom to us all.  Each of us has a unique relationship with a loving God. He is groom, God, and Friend to all of us, but always intimately personal with each. Because each is divine in design and purpose. I am learning He can do the same in our lives with women. Each brought by Him to us with divine purpose and personal grace. I don't want to put God in a box. As I have let go of thinking I had to choose and compare, then pick one woman to my best... I have lost scales on eye. These. Oh these ladies... They are His. And He has set us here together. And this? This is joy beyond what I thought possible. Individually unique and wholly divine. I have kindred ones. I have the best of best friends. They are vibrant colors in a Tapestry of His Grace!

I was out of sorts really. Perspective crossed. Lie laiden. I had hurts to grapple thru and physical pain to wrestle with. She never minded. She always braved the grouch because she saw the real me. Me all messy dust. She calls when I need the hope. No matter the hour. She is always able to drop all and pause with me. Her prayers worded to heaven so accurate and full of another reality. She knows. The migraines havoc-ed her soul too. She bears the scars. And now? Now she is the Hope One. My quick to cry with and always laugh with friend. My takes me as I am kindred. She gives me the pleasure to love her too. To be there with smile and a prayer. To send that humiliating but funny pic text that makes laughter remember its sound. We. Friends so deep...because of grandmother's prayer. She is the yellow in my tapestry of grace. The color of the warmth of summer, daffodils, and butterfly wing. I hope she knows her love is like the smile on God's face. Always warm and full.

And her! She who has been through so much herself, yet always helps you first. She tends to the hearts of the cancer hurting, giving the hard road ahead colors of hope. She is rainbow promises in His sky. She grapples thru many physical challenges only to put them in her tool belt to use as outstretched hand of grace later. She talks joy and you feel bubbles tickle soul. She mommy with me... Tell the poop stories with me. She is "lets write a book about this" so others can laugh trials away too. She is my met ya on mountain top. My bible school gem. She is funny accents and silly grace. She. My history and faithful staying friend. She is my red. The color of laying down a life. The color of a rose in vase of gumption. The color of rosy cheeks all smile.

Some bubble over and can't help such happy flow. This one. She is such. She is snort when she giggles because life is too short not to laugh it all in. She is a promise to pray, a prayer she really will say. She is love's ear that listens, and the "I am here" when words just aren't enough. We are silly photos in grocery store aisles, and loud laughter's reputation in local coffee shop. Toddler girls tire us, but she is joyful stories to share and reminder of God's grace in size 3T. My thread of purple. The color of vibrant. The hew of beauty deep within, frosted with bling on her out. The color of jam on fellow mommy shirt... Badges of His  glory and grace.

Sometimes grace comes in swift. A fast fit that before we know it, we can't imagine life without.  Her. The one that has become kindred in a mere moment. She is loving to be thankful and sharing her count of His glory with me. She is open prayer requests and kind witness. She is a doorbell's ring with a coffee treat in hand. A " you are welcome anytime"...My "let me know if I can help" friend. She too braves the loud laughter with me. The take life full in the here and now. She is photos of flowers and clouds floating by. Blue. She is thread of His sky. The color of constant. The color of calm and stay. Spool of His grace.

Some women have courage. The kind that takes the watchful to notice. This friend... She is brave. She works hard to provide alongside the man she loves, while still being super mama to those boys she adores. She bends her best to help make her husbands dream come true. Does she know she is his best song? That her rhythm is beauty that inspires. She is love even when tired. Do what's best to her own hurt. I see her. Her brave face. Her gumption all grace. Little boy hero and beloved wife these years. Even she takes time for me. At every outing she laughs bashful and free. Tells stories of family life and puts her hand in with all ours. Us Mama's of reckless abandon to the God that sees. She is gold. A shimmer that comes by staying faithful in heat. The color of Kansas wheat blowing soft and steady... Of sunlight on busy bird's wing.

Sometimes life needs the whimsical. The silly, happy, take time to spin friend. So is she. She amazes me by her strong faith and steady heart. She is heavens mixture of serious and carefree. Serious faith, carefree in joy. She is my have the hard conversation, that within moments can be dancing around kitchen with smile that melts all my tired away. She is tea in a tea pot, dunking biscuits on tray. She blessed listener and wisdom giver. The fun mom who bursts into baking! She is acceptance of crumbs because she sees little toes that matter more.  Faithful helpmate and selfless Mama. Oh the women she inspires. She won't notice.... And that's ok. He sees her. This dancing friend whose dream is to be grey,all bun, and wise. She is my silver. The color of wisdom and the tea pots it's shared over. The tinkling spoon on an English tea day.

Don't make the mistake of choosing one and naming her best.  How can we pick just one sunset, one flower, one landscape as the only? God has beauty and pieces of Himself in His daughters. Let Him decide who is to be in His tapestry for you. Colors and pictures of His heart for you... For all of us. 

You may be thinking, "alot she knows. There aren't women like that around me." But you know what... I don't believe that. I do believe God has seasons for us, and moments when we meet others... But I also believe in this. If you don't have these kind of friends around you, ask God to make you into one for someone else. And then this. Pray. Ask God to place women around you that you can grow with. Taste His grace with. Tell His story with. Cause friendship isn't about taking, it's about being His colors to a grey world. It's about being love that looks out not in. It's about 1 Cor. 13.

And then one last thing. Please. Do not compare. Not yourself, and not women against other women. No woman is a standard met, a person she wishes she could be. We women are just His. And that? That is enough.

We all are our truest beauty in our OWN shoes. 

The ones He designed for you.

When comparison leaves the heart, true friendship can move in. Because we are all an original, framed in scrolls of grace.  

Be blessed. His threads are everywhere.

And to those He wove around me? 

Thank you. 

The Upside Down Truth

Remembering what He thinks of me can save my life.  A skewed perspective cripples faster than any circumstance. I need to hear. To remember true what His kindness sings. Today, maybe you do too.

He made you Loved.

He says You are beautiful. Yes. You.

He didn't pass by. He noticed you. Him, constant witness to your life. 

Your design is not a mistake. He has plans for you. Personal and kind.

Don't feel like your not enough. He is your enough. Your muscle of heaven.

When Exhaustion is like lead. He is your 

" I can." 

Making mistakes is a trademark of dust. He knows it's our frame. He has made you Un-condemned. Stop reliving it. He says in Him You are forgiven. Not for just the little, but for that "one thing" that tortures. Let it go. He has.

He says You are worth it. He has the scars to prove it. 

You don't have to clean up before you drawn near to talk to Him. Oh friend. Turn and look into the mirror of His eyes...You wear white.

      

You have a place. His door is always open, the light always lit.

You are not an orphan.  You are not abandoned.  You are not fatherless. You are His child. He is Abba. 

You are Chosen. Let go of the fear you will be passed over. You can never be of the unwanted again.

Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if we remembered. Remembered who we are. Because of Him. This constant God. Our poetry of heaven. We all forget. We all turn our eyes in shame... The not enough and not worth it overtakes sometimes. But the point is this. It's a lie. It is not our past, present, or our future. 

He is.

The Lord knows we are of the forgetting. He will never tire of telling us the story. That love story is His favorite. And so He goes on. Endlessly weaving time and nature for you. Always to sing that song you must hear...

" I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with my lovingkindness. " (Jeremiah 31:3-4)

Take a few moments to listen to true ballad. Praying you hear it today. That song. Your song. The one He is singing over YOU.

What if we believed Him?

What if I believed He saw me like that? Like He says. What if I lived confident I am beloved? His beloved one. The blameless beauty who lives in wide open spaces. Sounds sacrilegious doesn't it? But He took my blame. All of it. He calls me beautiful, a design made to be mirror of Himself. So why then, do I struggle to believe, and live soul laid low and grieved.... What if? What if I trusted like that?  

What if I said thank you to Him...

for making me Loved.  

for making me Redeemed.  

for making me Noticed.

Bride to a King....  

That I can live...Un-condemned.  

Receiving love takes guts. 

 It takes courage to feel dirty yet look into His eyes and see Clean. Bravery to take that hand when you feel worthless. Grit to see what He sees... What is true. Receiving love is intimate and we pull away when we feel dirty. Unworthy. Not enough. How could we know what happens when we say "yes" anyway? 

His hand holds soft. His eyes look on in such love. Like Groom over bride all aglow. We discover when we take His hand we don't feel dirty anymore... Because with hand held we see what is real. We wear white.

       

I once heard it quoted that it is good to learn about God, but equal to even more critical to discover what God thinks about us. 

I grew up Pastor's daughter. Surrounded   by truth. I could quote verses and give advice on things I had no experience in. This of course was done passionately, but unfortunately wasn't blessing to the hearer most often. See I hadn't know love yet. His. Not for myself. Not His, over me. Alone. Words like grace, transfigured, and redeemed were knowledge of brain not heart. It's no ones fault. God chooses the moment. The moment when we turn and truly face His pursuit. Look into those eyes. Hear love. Know love. To get all lost in Him so beautiful and true.  

My raw man. My beloved friend...he has pushed me all our marriage to this. Experience. He was constant in reminding me you can't spout what you don't know with your own skin. Knowledge can be passed on, but it's love's impact on you that causes real overflow.  A verse memorized won't waste, because that's God's grace. But a verse that comes alive all fire soft within... Because you feel it's pulse in your spirit....His pulse...the love you have come to recognize.... That passed on carries revival and hope. Because God's breath is in it.  A woman engaged may blush happy about all she thinks she knows. But it isn't till she has wed and known love that her glow authenticates. When wed she knows by experience she has been chosen. For this. This love that becomes her heartbeat. 

What if we knew Him like that? What if we lived like bride with blushing cheeks? 

I used to have a hard question in my soul. It hurt. Echoing hollow and cold. One day I stopped and was brave enough to ask it. " You say You came to give life. Life abundant.  But.  I.  Don't.  See it." Hard questions, when asked with upturned face, become doors. 

He wasn't mad. He didn't turn me away, or make me feel shame. He said, " Hi Baby Girl...."  Pulled me in close... And took me for a long walk.

Satan gets us all the time with the same trick. You would think we would become the wiser. But as dust, we wander. He tells us we can't say what we don't feel. We can't do what doesn't feel real. So we stay stuck in what does feel real. The dark. God asked me to do something back then. It felt awkward because I didn't understand. But I was ready to come alive. Ready to get past survive. I wanted to go past the fringes. I needed abundant.  He asked me to look. To watch. And to say "thank You".  To Him.

I laugh, because I never did blind dates. But that's what thanksgiving was to me. You feel blind at first. Silly. Awkward. Saying thank you for the water droplets you noticed after last nights rain. For the curls in baby girl hair. For the rough and worn hands of husband. For round bales scattered through open field. But I did anyway. What seemed foolish at first led me to love. Hence the blind date. Ha! It snuck up on me...this realization that He did things all around me to tell me I was loved. That He was close by. All the time. That I have never been alone. 

That He thinks...about me.

I am no expert. But I have to pass on what I am coming to know. Thankfulness has shown me love. I met Him here. I found home. Knowing God watches you and smiles soft... Knowing He laughs at you lost in joy. Pushes aside the hair off your brow when you cry full grief. 

The bible is full of it! I dare you to look. Write down the verse every time you glimpse it. Thanks. Gratitude. Thanksgiving. Give thanks. Sacrafice of thanksgiving. He wanted us to get that. To catch it. He knows when we thank, our eyes open to His face. To His Love. You won't be able to help the fall. I couldn't.

Abundant. 

What if? What if we lived believing that love? His love. What HE says about us. About life. 

What. If. 

 

Hard grace

The last month has been hard. Hard. Our souls tire when we hear that word. Mine does. It means enduring what hurts. Hurts of heart. Hurts of health. What do you do when hard stays from day to day and you feel your soul slipping sideways?

 

My curly girl. She adores the swing we made her. She runs to it with each front door opening. "Push me mama!"  She would stay flying for hours if these arms could hold out. My eyes never tire though. Seeing what happens when I pull her up high and let her go to glide smooth. Her eyes fill with such light! She can't suppress joy giggle. Then it happens. Her eyes close. Soft smile comes on lips...And she is lost. Lost in a rhythm outside the norm. Taken up by something more graceful than the daily. She forgets and she settles in, all full of this sway.  She looks so happy. So beautifully lost. Lost in moments bigger than herself. In those moments I am beside her, she reminds me without even knowing. God has a rhythm. And it can sway me soft. Sway me still above all this here.  It can take me out of that mindset that grips. And I wanna be her. Eyes closed. Him never tiring of pushing me softly to heights that shape me all smile.

Sometimes hard rhythm blinds us unaware. We turn on survival mode. Clenched jaw. Claws grasping to just pull through. Do you feel it? That grip. We can survive suffocating, but we can't live.  Suffocation has a vibration. It pounds. In temples of head and throb of heart. Gasping for air is no life. So why then do we choose it?

God's rhythm is always there. Air we can always breathe. He never stops drawing us. 

" I have set The Lord continually before me; Because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken. Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoices; My flesh also will dwell securely." ~ psalm 16:8

I was sitting at my kitchen table. Those words. Like Air. They were clarity.

i had chosen to see stress. To choose the survive to get thru. Fog settled in and air got thick. I had chosen that. God never stepped back.  But we sure are quick to blame Him when we do. That grieves. He bore all my sins, and I still blame Him when life hurts. When I choose to try in my own muscle, forgetting His always outstretched arms. Why do we believe the hard way will get us there quicker? Why do we believe alone-ness will be some sort of companion? In our stubborn we walk away from deliverance. So He allows it. What grace! Him. Never allowing our independence to save. That's when I felt it so strong. Gratitude. Thanksgiving for this pain. 

" Thank you Jesus that it hurts without You."

So I run back home.  He is always home. Maybe someday by habit, this dusty soul won't forget. Won't be so quick to trust my own bicep. Stress will come. The landlord will ask for more money than he deserves. Those conversations with your spouse will hurt. The kids will challenge you to anger thru exhaustion. We will be misunderstood. Gas in the car will run out leaving us stranded. And the headlines will make us distrust our own government. But Yeshua? He stays. He keeps singing that lullaby over us. His hand keeps holding. His heart always laid bare. 

My boy tells me how hard it is to believe sometimes that talking things out with God changes things. I hear you son. Feelings lie with such strength it weakens. " Baby, you can live life trying by yourself, but you'll be blind." He cuddles in close, heart so heavy. " Mama. Maybe life without Jesus helping is like living color blind. Everything is out of focus." Oh sweet boy! Yes! From the mouth of my baby God speaks. We can live color blind. Life dull and hard. Vibrancy gone. Beauty always eluding. Or we can come back home. To Him who saves. To Him who sees all, and loves always. To Him who turns on the lights so we can truly see. Color! 

You can see. The fog can lift. Inhale deep, there is air.  You can get out of the hard and into His rhythm. Sit on that swing and let Him show you His sway. 

Eyes close. I am all smile. This rhthym is not my own. Now I feel free.