Oct 1, 2020 | Becoming, Encouragement, Faith, Trust |
The pieces don’t fit.
I want to finish
this puzzle so that
it makes sense.
It’s a mess and there are
pieces missing
so I am not sure
why I keep going.
I am losing hope
that I will ever see
the complete picture.
I am missing pieces.
I am not where I
thought I would be
or maybe who
I thought I would be.
Nothing feels complete and
I don’t have hope that
this puzzle, this life
can be redeemed.
I sift through pieces,
I look for hope,
I get out a magnifying glass
to aid my search.
Tears of frustration
make it difficult to see as
I try to match things up.
I sense someone beside me.
He shifts the magnifying glass
so that I can see
the strong
thread holding the
pieces together
where there’s a piece missing.
Hope fills in the gap.
He shows me
that beauty exists
where I see only chaos.
He sees what I cannot.
He shows me that hope
touches each piece
of the puzzle –
even though I can’t
see a picture coming
together at all.
He asks me to trust
that my story
will have
beauty and glory –
hope has made a way.
#PermissionGranted
May 13, 2020 | Faith, Grow, Trust |
It belongs –
but it doesn’t.
Wrong temperatures,
wrong soil,
incorrect amount of precipitation
and yet…
the pineapple
seems to be quite
happy here
in Georgia soil.
It’s wrong, but it is right.
It’s unexpected,
shocking,
and sweet at the
same time.
Sometimes,
well, perhaps,
more than I would like,
I find myself in the
midst of unexpected.
It feels wrong all
the way around.
I can’t make
any sense out of it.
It makes as much sense
as a pineapple
growing in
Georgia clay.
I have to let go of
the desire for
all to make sense to me.
There are things
I do not know and
I can’t see what’s ahead.
When I let go of
what I expect,
when I embrace
what is,
somehow,
a
tinge
of
sweet
meets me there.
I’ll give myself
permission to
look for it.
#PermissionGranted
Apr 8, 2020 | Encouragement, Faith, Grow |
Fog.
Thick, real.
Joy and hope
play a game
of hide and seek
I did not ask
to participate in.
The future holds
question marks –
so many unknowns…
The fog
clouds vision,
tangles emotion,
and I just want to
hibernate.
The swath
of clouds hangs
over every area of life
and I wonder
if this veil will
lift and what life
will look like
when it does.
Where is the sun?
Has the fog
smothered hope?
I look down
to see there’s
a rope in my hand.
I am tethered.
I am not lost
to the fog.
I will cling
to what is
holding me.
#PermissionGranted
Mar 11, 2020 | Faith, Grow, Trust |
The sun shines on my back
while the moon’s glow
lights up my face.
It is still daytime
but the moon
arrived early.
I love it when
the moon appears
in the sky at the same
time as the sun.
It’s two miracles at once.
The sun to grow life.
the moon to
light up the
darkness.
There is light
no matter which
way I am facing.
I am covered
no matter
which way I
orient myself.
I am surrounded by
care and provision
and I am
overwhelmed by love.
And this,
this is the
third miracle.
#PermissionGranted
Dec 12, 2019 | Becoming, Encouragement, Faith |
The full moon was breath-taking last night when I saw it playing hide and seek behind some leafless trees.
It took my breath away because it was
so low,
so gigantic,
so faithful,
so unassuming.
Then, this morning it was low in the sky as I took my daughter to school. We embraced the moments we had with it and we kept looking for it as we made our way through the stoplights.
“There it is, again!”
“It’s like a sticker, it’s so perfect!”
And then it was quiet.
I am sitting at a traffic light.
Looking at the moon, trying not to feel.
I want to be present and not lean into
I am tired. I have questions. I am overwhelmed.
My girl doesn’t know all of these things.
And she doesn’t know how her shared excitement about the moon encouraged me to take a deep breath.
I am brought back to the present when I hear her sweet voice coming from the back of the car.
(She’s a singer, like her mama.)
She’s singing:
Away in a manger, no crib for his bed,
The little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head;
The stars in the heavens looked down where he lay,
The little Lord Jesus, asleep on the hay.
The cattle are lowing; the poor baby wakes,
But little Lord Jesus, no crying he makes.
I love thee, Lord Jesus; look down from the sky
And stay by my cradle till morning is nigh.
Be near me, Lord Jesus; I ask thee to stay
Close by me forever, and love me, I pray.
Bless all the dear children in thy tender care,
And fit us for heaven to live with thee there.
And I look at the moon.
And I hear her song…
It’s the same moon.
The moon before me is the same moon that was in the sky at the birth of Jesus.
The same light was in the sky when he came so that we could stay close forever.
The tired, overwhelmed feelings I have are in part, a result of the pain that comes with stretching, with growth, and then partly due to being here on this earth with the wrongs that run rampant.
He’s fitting me for heaven – challenging the parts of me that need to change and he’s also placed within me a longing for his kingdom here on earth – I am reminded that he invites me to be a part of that work.
And again, I feel loved, seen, heard.
It’s the same moon
so low,
so gigantic,
so faithful,
so unassuming.
#PermissionGranted
Dec 4, 2019 | Encouragement, Faith, Trust |
A thrill of hope
caught me by surprise.
I didn’t recognize it at first.
It was a beautiful sunset, yes,
but I’ve seen them before.
But this one was
unrelenting,
full of
saturated color
in shades of
ochre,
violet,
gold,
magenta,
crimson.
It cycled through colors
in time with breath.
Breath in.
Breath out.
A new shade.
I couldn’t look away.
And then at one point,
I wouldn’t look away.
I took a detour to get
more time with the colors.
When I arrived home
I told the kids to run upstairs
to see the show in the sky.
It’s then I remember that
my day started with
a gorgeous sunrise.
And now the perfect bookend:
a sunset painted
in the sky,
with liquid color.
Visually astounding,
but also a cacophony
of
hope.
Color ushers in
wonder.
Wonder
ushers
in
hope.
You never let me forget.
#PermissionGranted
