300 Seconds of Flying Fingertips



 

I was going to turn in for the night.  It's been a crazy busy few weeks.  But I felt the need to write. 

 

You know what I mean, don't you.

 

Be it blog post, journal entry, love letter, thank you note, or to-do list.

 

There's something about ending the day with a pen in your hand.

 

So let those fingertips fly over the keyboard with great abandon.

 

or

 

Pick out your brightest pen and ink and write to the Lover of your soul on lined journal pages.

 

or

 

Dash a note off to someone you love.  Those kind of sweet words that are handwritten and put in an envelope with a stamp.

 

or

 

Simply make tomorrow's to-do list.

 

For in the writing, we sign off on the day and all its tasks and ventures, successes and bombs.

 

We release all the thoughts that run rampant through our heads.

 

What's said is said, what's done is done. 

 

We might need to ask forgiveness.

 

 or

 

 Simply say 'good night.'

 

Whatever you need to do, go ahead and do it.

 

And then turn in for the night.

 

Sleep tight.

 

And you'll find that, as ever, His mercies are new every morning.

 



300 seconds with Kate & Laura & Kristin & Holley

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For When You Are Perplexed

You thought you had all your ducks in a row.  Everything lined up, ready to roll.  You really felt His leading.  And you couldn't wait to launch into a brand new tomorrow.

 

And then somehow, everything began to change.  Circumstances altered.  Drastically.  Unexpected surprises popped up.  And they weren't all that pleasant.  Doors that seemed open wide began to slam shut right and left.

 

One after another.

 

Perplexed?  That would be an understatement, wouldn't it.

 

If there's any good news in the middle of your head-spinning confusion, it is this.  None of this is a surprise to God.  He who orchestrated the creation of the planets that whirl in space is fully aware of your unfolding story.  He absolutely knows the end from the beginning.  Even though you haven't got a clue.

 

So go ahead.  Lean on in to Him.  Close.  Tight.  Expect Him to swing wide some brand new doors, some sterling opportunities.  He is crazy in love with you.  And, in the middle of all that's changing, He's inviting you to something glorious.

Hang on to the truths in His Word.  I'm praying for you ...

"For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good
and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope."
Jeremiah 29:11

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The Joy of Unsubscribing

I've just gotta tell you that I'm in a season of letting go.  Minimalism and simplicity have joined hands and they keep on whispering my name.  And there's no turning back.

And that means unsubscribing from things that have given me pleasure in the past.

First it was a magazine or two.  And then it was the weekend newspapers.  'Cause if you're not around half the time, then there's no point in having them show up in your mailbox, right?

And then I headed into Bloglovin today.  And bravely unsubscribed to a bunch of blogs that I'm just not into anymore. 

We don't watch much TV these days.  So I think we're going to be saying good-bye to hundreds of channels before long.  And maybe, dare I say it, the house phone.

Gasp!

It's that season to cut out, to trim back, to lighten up.  Because for every single thing you say 'yes, please' to, you've just gotta say a 'no, thanks' to something else.

I'm feeling lighter already ...



    >     300 seconds with Kate  *  Kristen  *  Holley     <   

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Bye-Bye Anxiety



My counseling clients know the routine.  This is how we start our one hour conversations together.  We rest our heads back in the comfy chairs.  Close our eyes, drop our shoulders.  Unclench our fists and lay our hands gently in our laps.

I teach these lovely hard-working ladies how to breathe in through their noses to the count of seven, hold it to the count of seven, and then blow all the air out of their lungs like air out of a balloon to the count of ten.

We do it a few times 'til she calms, stills, quiets all that churns within.

We relax.

Simply put, we exhale. 

And when you do this little exercise for a minute or two, you're probably going to begin to release the anxiety that's built up deep and way too strong.

Go ahead.  Try it!

Breathe in, 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7.

 

Hold it, 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7.

 

Release it all out like air out of a balloon, 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10.

This little breathing gem does wonders when you wake up in the morning before your feet hit the floor.  Or at night when sleep is hard to come by.  Or outside swinging high, higher, highest into the bright blue sky.  And feel free to do this behind the wheel of your car ... just be sure to keep your eyes open, ok?

It's a wonderful way to begin a time of prayer.  Letting all the burdens go ... and talking to our Creator, the One who formed and shaped us to breathe deep, to live anxiety-free, to celebrate a life rich and full and graced with peace.

P.S.  As a pastoral counselor, I take the issue of anxiety very seriously.  Christians are prone to think this is simply a spiritual issue and spend precious energy beating themselves up over this plague.  Ongoing, intense anxiety has strong physical and emotional components that need to be addressed.  If this is true for you, friend, I encourage you to talk with your doctor and seek help from a wise counselor.

> sharing freedom with Lisa- Jo  *  Kristen  *  Holley

For When Father's Day Breaks Your Heart

Dear Downcast Soul ~

I don't know who you are.  But I felt the need to write to you this weekend.  For I know that June presents a really tough holiday for you.

Truth be told, your father wasn't a messenger of love or kindness.  Along the way you were made to feel like you were never enough.  Or just too much.  You were not cherished in the ways your little heart longed for.  And you weren't cuddled in arms that were safe and secure.

I grieve with you that you weren't loved well, that you were neglected, abandoned, unprotected.  And all I can do is pray that the holy messenger from above will come down and be the daddy you never had.  That He would comfort you with the greatest gentleness and that you would experience safety under His wings.  I pray that you'll begin to grasp how deep and high and wide is His love for you.  And that His healing touch would mend your wounded heart with hope and peace.

For He loves you so ...

When the Prompt Brings a Smile

Lisa Jo tosses a simple word high into the sky.  And those who love a good prompt to get them writing reach up and grab that word and run with it.  For 300 seconds on Fridays.  As I wandered over to her place just now, I saw that today's offering was the word HANDS.

And I couldn't help but smile.  For the image on my screensaver these days is my mom's hands.  Tender, gentle, just a bit worn.  Soft.  Firm.  Reaching into the damp dark soil, putting the final touches on her new plantings.  This sight, this image, this picture somehow brings me peace.  A sense that all is right with the world.

I honor her today, for no other reason than I love her.  I'm glad to share this photograph, I'm thankful that she is still very much in my life, a faithful presence.  You could say she's a doting wife, the supportive loving matriarch, the dearest friend to many, the guiding star, the knitter of the sweetest little hats for babies she'll never meet.  The one we all turn to for a needed encouragement ... and great dollops of the keenest wisdom, softly spoken firmly.

But all I can say is how much I deeply admire her, and only hope and pray that when I finally grow up, maybe I could have her gentle grace, her kind words, her grateful spirit, and her indomitable strength as she fights the pain her body doles out to her, day in and day out.

For in her I see Jesus.

 

* visiting with Holley

Not One Single Thing

 

Nothing. 

 

Absolutely not one thing can separate us from the vast depth of His love.

 

Not the ugliest of our sins.

 

Nor our calendars when they get way too full.

 

Not the posturing and maneuvering of church politics.

 

Or really scary financial woes.

 

Not our never-ending guilt trips, authored by the enemy of our souls.

 

Or our health issues, as terrifying as they seem.

 

Nor our shame, the heavy mantle that renders us immobile.

 

Our embarrassing family dramas and our sad or sordid pasts won't get in the way.

 

And neither can our addictions no matter how deep they sink their poisonous fangs.

 

Nothing.

 

Because when all is said and done, His love conquers all.

 

*

'None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us.  I'm absolutely convinced that nothing -

 

nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low,

 

thinkable or unthinkable - absolutely nothing can get between us and God's love

 

because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us.'

-   Romans 8 {The Message}   -

 

 

 

*     spending a bit of time with Holly     *

An Overflowing Life



 

'You've got all the makings of a professional writer.' 

Those words fell upon me like a precious anointing, a benediction received with gratefulness overflowing, one of those 'well done, good and faithful servant' moments, the kind you unknowingly crave from some place deep within.

I choke up and tell him how much his words mean to me and how much I love him for letting me know what he believes is true.  For my love language is words of affirmation.  And this is a deposit of pure gold gently invested into my soul.

But a professional writer?  I'm not there yet.  At all.

For I see myself as a grateful woman just beginning to come of age.  Which is quite different than an aging woman.  Yes?

I see myself as a devoted follower of the Triune God - Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

I have been married for 38 years yesterday.  All I can say is it only gets better and better.  I'm crazy over my man.

I have two daughters and their six kids and their men, my parents and my sister ... and altogether they light up my busy world, making it sparkle bright.  And keep me young in the process.

I am a friend.  The faithful, loyal, go-to-the-mat-for-you type.  I'll love, enjoy, encourage, and defend you til the end.  Especially if you've got chocolate.

I am a counselor.  Sitting in those chairs together with another woman struggling to find her way?  I'm all about that.  It's my sweet spot.  And they know it.

I am a beach girl, born and bred.  I live for the long weekends when we can steal away for endless walks by the ocean, discovering wooded pathways yet unexplored, sunsets that slowly melt into glory.  My pockets fill with the ever illusive sea glass, tossed and frosted by salty crashing waves over time.

And finely woven into the mix above?  I am a blogger.  I love this space.  I love this opportunity.  I love this little community that's being built one post, one conversation, one new friend at a time.

But a professional writer?  It sounds like way too much work.  I'm not feeling it.

I'm too busy living my life to the fullest.  My cup runneth over.

 

 

*  spending 5+ minutes with Lisa-Jo and her word of the day, WRITER  *

 

*   visiting with Laura  .  Beth   *

 

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People 101 : : Day 4 : : Jesus-Lovin' Schoolgirl

Back-to-school night it was.  That hour and a half when parents cram the halls, paperwork in hand, wedging tired bodies into tiny seats, hoping against hope that the teacher/student connection will be a win/win, praying that the year will be relatively painless for all.

 

Artwork and essays line the freshly painted cinder block walls.  And the young mama spies her daughter's creation.  Tears of laughter, pools of joy spill over as she reads her daughter's writing, her bold, yet oh-so-natural testimony carefully printed out for all the world to read.

'I'm lucky to have a best friend like Jesus.  We have some things in common like how we look.  We both have white skin and we both like to read the Bible. And something we like to do for fun is play with little kids.  Even though we are alike in ways we are also different in ways.  He has shorter hair than me and I have longer hair than him.  He lives in Heaven and I live on earth.  I'm shy but he is brave.'

 

This is what Back-To-School Night looks like.  In a public school.  Where an 8 year old girl can tell the world that her best friend is Jesus. 

 

Yes, I'm overflowing with gratitude that Jesus is alive and well in our neighborhood schools.  But I only wish that I would be as courageous as my granddaughter in proclaiming loud and clear, with not an apology in sight, that Jesus is my best friend, too.

 



 

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The Multiple Book Giveaways!

Each comment you leave this month puts you in the running for one of the books we'll be sharing with our readers with on October 31st {9 pm eastern, US and Canada only}.  Limit 1 comment/day, please!   Details to come.

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Five Minute Friday 

Storytime



These are the best of times.  Kind of sacred, really.  When we cuddle up warm and close, one or two little ones and me.  With a stack of treasured books, carefully chosen, teetering piles hand selected by eager little readers.  They grab the dog-eared ones.  Those special friends, those volumes that have been toted to bed and to the car and to comfy chairs and quiet corners.  Over and over.

We relax into each other, arms and legs lovingly draped all over, paging through, reading word after familiar word.  They point out favorite pictures and giggle with glee at childish humor.  And woe to me if I skip one single page.  'Cause they know the story.  And it will be told.  Each and every single well-worn word.

And I know I will look back some day.  And remember these, the most favorite quiet times with my children's children.  These precious little ones, cherished hearts of my heart, who've entrusted me with these most intimate of moments.

I love storytime.

When We're Not Quite Sure Anymore



Change is a one time event, so they say.

But those transitions can seem endless, going on forever, like a rubber band stretched, stretched, stretched almost to that snapping point.

The in between time between here and there.

Coming and going.

Then and now.

Who we were and who we're becoming.

These are the waiting room times, when the minutes, the days stretch out like eternity unending.

Sometimes we know what we're anticipating, and other times we haven't got a clue.

Fear creeps in like shadows at evening, wanting to grip our souls with icy tentacles, desiring to redefine us because we're not sure where we are or what's around that next corner that seems to loom dark.

But this one thing's for sure.  Who He is.  Always the same, yesterday, today, forever.  Never changing like shifting shadows.  Rock solid and strong.

When all is said and done, He's the only One we can cling to.  In those scary in between times.  When we're not quite sure who we are any more.  Or where on earth we're going.

 

+    photo by Jessica Nguyen Davidson    +

 

I dedicate this post to all those weary and worn transition-trekkers in my world. 

He's carrying you through, yes, He's carrying you through ...

 

 

 

 

300 Seconds of Writer's Block

Over time it's become part of the rhythm, the rhyme of my week.  This whole 5 Minute Friday thing.  Either hitting the keyboard way late on Thursday night at midnight sharp, or early in the morning as the sun makes its way onto the horizon.  The gypsy girl gives us a word and away we write, fingers flying over keyboards all over the globe, making contact, making sense, weaving together a bit of a story, or some lines of prose.

But I'm sorry, sisters.  I can not for the life of me think what I'm going to do with this word RHYTHM at 7am this morning.  It's just not coming to me.  Not a single line, not a tale to tell.  Nothing to put on the table except my excuses and apologies and feeble explanations.

I guess this is what they call writer's block.  Or what Friday morning looks like after a way too busy week.  So here's my submission, girls.  Kind of like a really poor dish on a lavishly spread buffet, laden with delectable goodies.  Just go ahead and slide it to the back of the table in a darkened corner where no one will notice.  It's ok.

And would someone please be gracious enough to tell me I'm not the only one who's ever had trouble figuring out what to do with a word.

You stumped me, Lisa-Jo!  And now I think I'll go make a cup of caffeinated tea.  A big one.

Better luck next week, Linda.

==> and at Nancy's and Emily's, too!

My Wildlife Arena

mmm ... maybe I'm not living in NY's Mid-Hudson Valley.  I could swear right about now that I really am residing in a Wild Kingdom somewhere.

'Cause the bears are back again tonight ... two weeks to the day ... knocking down the bird feeder, the heavy duty metal one.  Last time I spied them, those two hefty blackish brown visitors dined for maybe 15 minutes at 5 am in the morning.  In no hurry to take off, they just stared back at me as I was glued to the window, then went back to pawing great mounds of seed, much to their delight.

Today a friend and I watched a huge mama snapping turtle spend a few hours laying eggs in a large dirt mound.  After doing her thing, she toddled down a hill to a flowing stream and said 'adios' to her defenseless shelled young ones.

And how 'bout the two other turtles I spied cruising across busy roadways this afternoon.  The ones who lived to tell the tale, dodging speeding cars as they nonchalantly made their way to wetter climes.

And don't get me going about how many days it's like a grand aviary here, the chorale of birds bringing music to my ears as I while away some time on the back porch.  Or the story I heard yesterday about a bunch of baby possums being rescued from their dead mama's pouch by a woman who couldn't bear to see the descending vulture finish off the whole family.

Yep, that's the view 'round these parts as May wends its way to a close ...  

p.s. OOPS!  I forgot about the two grazing deer, dining early this evening in the wet green grass ... right near that mound of buried eggs.

... and at Gail's too!

We Arise & Call Them Blessed



To all those spiritual mothers who've led us on the way.  Those faithful souls who shared wisdom laced with integrity and joy.  The ones who brought comfort to our sorrows big and small.  The ones who've modeled for us what loving Jesus and serving God looked like.  The musical ones who taught us to sing songs about Jesus that remain with us to this day.  And the teachers who showed us how to tuck Bible verses deep into our hearts.

Mamas and grandmamas.  Aunties and Sunday School teachers.  Pioneer Girl leaders and music instructors.  Camp counselors and youth group leaders.  All you college professors and mentors and women's Bible study leaders.   You know who you are.

And you Titus 2 women and pastors.  Our spiritual directors and counselors, friends and coaches along the way.

You are our Proverbs 31 women, filled with beautiful valor and integrity, godliness and strength.  We join hands and say, with tears in our eyes and hearts overflowing, that with everything in us,  we 'thank God upon every remembrance of you ...'

300 Seconds on Filling the Abyss

I read that there is a Friend that sticks closer than a brother. 

And for that I am truly thankful.

Because we live in a very transient world.

Where people come and go.

The yearning is there.

To know and be known.

To feel safe and loved and valued.

To experience being cherished and like we matter to someone with skin on.

And if we are truly fortunate along the way, there will be those who we get to share life with.

The ups, the downs, the joys, the sorrows, the laughter, the tears.

The whole thing.

But one thing I know for sure. 

Life changes.  People move on, in one way or another. 

And no one, no one can fill that huge, yawning, God-sized abyss that resides in our souls.

No one.  Except Jesus.

He's the Friend who never forsakes.  Never leaves.  Doesn't change.  Has only my best interests at heart.  Sees the beginning from the end.  And has the power to alter my every step.

The Forever Friend.  The Living Saviour.  The Lover of my soul ...

300 Seconds on Insomnia



 

Sometimes you've just gotta give up on sleep.  After you've tossed and turned for a few hours.  After you've wrestled through some stuff that weighs heavy.  And you've prayed for every single one that God's brought through your heart.

 

After you've headed to the bathroom more than once and have had too many drinks of water.  When you've sung every song in your heart from A - Z.  When you've listened to your spouse toss and turn and yawn and sigh.

 

When you did catch a few winks in the darkness of night, you actually wrote and published a whole blog post.  In your sleep.  That's when you know it's time to leave the warmth of bed, don the fleecy spring robe, pull on the ol' slipper socks, and finally head down here.  And actually do what you've been dreaming about half the night.

 

You're a blogger.  And you want to write.

 

 

300 Seconds @ O'Dark Thirty

Enthusiastic, exuberant, energetic, entertaining ... as a grandma, I am blessed with six little ones who are all of the above.  And I think it's fair to say that they've all had their middle of the night moments.

After one recent night, #5's Mama wrote, while Lexa was sleeping last night, we heard her shouting at three different times ...

 'That's my toy!'

 

'I drank all my milk!'

 

'Today is going to be a great day!'

 I smile.  Just a bit.  Because after all, at o'dark thirty they're there.  Hours away.  And I am here! 

 

 

 

 

 



# 47

She reaches high and gently pulls her childhood Bible off the oak shelf.  The black one, the King James Version, a cherished Christmas gift from her Grandma and Grandpa back in 1964.  She opens the front cover to trace the childish writing with her eyes and fingertips. 

And she smiles.

For there in a careful scrawl reads the date of her redemption.  All of 47 years ago.  When she came to Jesus, broken and weeping tears of regret and relief in the front pew of the church.  And He saved her from her sins.  All 10 years of them.  And far too many that were to follow.

This is Holy Week's gift.  Another milestone reached, with gratitude that overflows.  And she remembers, once again, that it was for her that His blessed blood was poured out. 

Claiming Those Words



This is what I'm going to remember.  This I'm going to do.  Instead of dwelling on all that's gone wrong, everything that hasn't gone my way, disappointments and hurts and fears, I'm going to claim those words that the godly man wrote way back in the day.

I'm going to remember what is true.  Noble.  Right and pure and lovely.  Admirable, excellent and praiseworthy.  Those are the things I'm going to reflect on.  Immerse myself in.  Speak about.  Share with others.  Because it's too easy to head the other way.  Human nature being what it is.  Self-absorbed.  Negative.  Cynical.

By His sustaining grace, I'm going to live this out.  Day in and day out.  Personally and professionally.  The letter to the Philippians speaks to where I am, where we are.  Today.  In this generation.

 

- Sharing bread with the seagulls, September 2012 -

   *   *   *   linking up with my online counseling buddy, Beth   *   *   *