see

when strength shows itself and you say so, i want to shrug it off.

what you meant as a compliment is too heavy for me and makes me too warm to have that laid upon my shoulders. i've felt it before and enjoyed it too much, and now i've been tempered by the indulgence of it. pride-taming does that. 

so when you say that i'm strong and all that, i want to take your face in my hand and turn you around and up and everywhere else but at me. because He did this. there is nothing i could ever do to have made me this way, and believe me when i say that i tried. 

beauty has cascaded across the dark canvas of my life (and of others) and i've been changed because of it. 

there was once a day when i wanted to die and truthfully, that day wasn't too long ago. My Father holds me tight and i know i'm here by His grace, alone. i know it is He who has kept me strong. 

i've seen my heart changed and how beauty has unraveled from choices i've made, even dark ones that still come with much shame. when you see glory like this, and magnificence, there's no going back and perspective is forever changed. it's happened to me. 

Joy shows herself and Hope becomes easier to step into when Grace is unwrapped. 

i wondered if He was true and then i chose to step into faith, and now my grip of fear is held loose to accept what.ever. may Be -- however grueling or gruesome the gift. 

so when you see strength, my heart cries that you see Him and not me. because all of this -- every bit of my life -- is all because of His grace. 

this is my worship.

Linking up with Lisa Jo today.

in this place

i haven't arrived.

though, i've sought to. 

and oh, how i wish that i might.

but i won't, at least not this on this side. 

yet, i'm here in this place.

and it's a good place.

a hard fought place.

a God-gifted place.

may you, too, see your place as grace. 

this is my worship. 

____________________________________

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fly

these dreams i have held tightly are beginning to untether.

for so long i've let my grip be strong, nearly balling these visions up like a used tissue.

my palms sweaty with anxiousness as i've wondered has led me astray in wander. 

impatience has been the side effect of my fear that these dreams are wasteful and nothingness.

faith seemed like such work, too hard to even consider a simmer and slow bake.

a quick-fix has been my guise for nourishment, when really i need the long kind of cook.

i need all the moments of my story to process, to ferment if you will, for the best kind of health.

the process, sometimes seeming strange and odd, i now see as wondrous and a gift.

His Bread is different from what i've thought or even wanted.

i've cringed and felt the pangs of nausea rise over the appearance of what He brings me to.

yet, now i see how what He gifts is yeasty-like, so sweet in time.

and time is what makes these dreams loosen, and fly.

this is my worship. 

____________________________________

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awake

I am Seeing more fully these days.

The ways He moves in me. And through me. And around me.

His presence and how He is so real. Powerful. Just so incredibly Amazing. 

And I've been wrecked.

By grace.

She stands taller. More confident in trusting that her story does, indeed, have purpose. All of it.

And she is more peace-filled.

When I look in her eyes I see her heart.

I want to love her.

All of her. 

And I know, He's done this.

He's moved in such a steady, gentle, yet powerful way that my own strength has come undone. 

     The strength that clung to the belief I was worth less. The strength that made me quiet and cower.

     The strength that ugly ol' pride told me I had so much of.

     The strength women tell other women to reach for. And the mantra I aspired to believe.

As it turns out, I'm not *strong.* 

He is. And in me, His strength is evident.

It's a perspective that gives Him honor. It's inside-out thinking. It's worship lived out. 

I'm awake to this grace.

How my faith has been widened. Expanded actually. And yet, there's truth that it'll stretch even more in my story living.

     Pregnant with Hope.
          Wondering if I can possibly get any bigger.
               And I do.
                    Miraculously, I stretch wider than it ever seemed possible.
                         And I will even more.

He moves in us and invites us to live out the ways He made us.

His art cannot be stuffed in or boxed up. 
     Eventually He unearths *us* within our soul. 

Because God doesn't make beauty for some day. He makes it for Every day.

I don't want to save my telling of His Handiwork for my grand-babies and dinner tables. I want to tell of Him *now.*

The art is in our awakening. 

We are Awake because He made us so.

It's a truth we cannot deny. An obvious one.

     Yet it's one seem to forget as we hustle and bustle through the *whirl and twirl.*

And so, I {pause} and give Him honor here. Where these words find a home. And where the courage to *Be* how He made me is typed out.

I tell of His grace. How I've been changed and I'm being changed.

I write what I See, a heart full of dreams.

I am obedient to the awakening.

_______________________________________________

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See

I didn't expect them to be there.

Running up a village street, a deer crossed my path. And another just stood there looking at me.

The daylight of this time of year is a blessing after season-long darkness in the early morning.

They didn't frighten me because the light helped me to see.

More steps and I thought about more of what He provides.

So unexpectedly He delights my path.

I encourage my friends today to unwrap the unexpected. To see the blessings.

And I remember this time *right now* is necessary. It isn't about where I'm going, it's where I'm living.

Seeing the ways He works in my heart and through every crevice of my life is a miracle.

The ways He moves and speaks astound me.

Perhaps the first time in my life I'm truly beginning to live by faith as I See evidence of Him.

Today's post is part of my friend, Lisa-Jo's fun challenge each Friday to 

     "Write for five, short, bold beautiful minutes... 

     Unscripted and unedited...

     Without worrying if it's just right or not."

_______________________________________________

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See

When we say Yes, our vision is expanded.

The periphery of our imagination is shifted into front and center sight view.

Invitations become opportunities to See Him.

It's not about us and what we're capable of, though physical challenges sure have a way of giving us visions beyond what we thought we could do. Goals blossom and we become inspired to try new things.

Sometimes our trying some. thing. is for someone else's story, as much as it is for ours.

The saying Yes--the *willingness* to accept an invitation--
     helps us See ourselves differently,
          and most especially gain perspective of what He sees in us.

When I say that maybe I should start seeing myself differently, and ponder the person I consider myself to be as compared to who others see in me, I don't necessarily mean what you might think.

Being *willing* gives me an opportunity to See the purpose He has in my life. And I don't just mean one. single. purpose.

Purpose is wide and expansive. It's comprehensive of a life, suggesting that not a single moment is wasted.

Surrendering my plans is hard. But, when I allow myself to step out and try something that tugs at me, suddenly my plan becomes moot.

Shifting directions to something new, I can't help but learn. grow. discover.

Different experiences are His chiseling of me. 

Trying new things isn't about prideful accomplishments in self--
     it's about Seeing Him in the
          risk-taking,
               invitation-seizing,
                    fear-releasing.

And in Seeing Him, I grow in my trust of Him.

_______________________________________________

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how to see yourself as who you are

Saying it aloud, I surprised myself by what I heard.

I need to start seeing myself differently. 

This year has wrapped up into a heap of challenges that began as *invitations*--Yes's that became something real.

Runners don't just hop on bikes and brave the road all strong-like.

Owning half the road and running two-wide doesn't phase a runner. Motorists must yield for us. But, cyclists share the space with those others. They can't just eye 'em down and demand space, they could be blindsided at any time. It's scary out there on a bike dozens of miles away and fully reliant upon others if something happened.

Runners also don't just hop in the pool and swim. 

It's hard to breathe in there. Water goes places deep inside and doesn't just shake off with each step. Breathing becomes deliberate with each stroke; something to be learned and practiced. And, there's no side to grab onto. It's lonely in a big lane, several dozen strokes away from start.

Runners don't choose to focus on arms for strength. 

Racing hills is the hardest workout for us strong-leg types. Push-ups seem foreign and unnecessary. Taking a day off of running to spend time on arms just seems like a colossal waste of time; training seems sidelined.

Runners tend to be soloists. 

The go-it-alone type, we're a weird bunch. Self-focused and introverted, runners are competitive and shy about their own pace. Partners can be fearful to have as pace becomes spotlighted even more. A leisurely run becomes a job.

So, His *invitations*--
   
     to get a bike...
     hop in the pool...
     focus on push-ups...
     and get a canine running partner...

--just didn't seem to make sense.

They were challenging Yes's for a girl like me. 
A part of me wishes I could say it was all easy. 

But, those *invitations* weren't nothing to me.
Those were very real challenges.

...just as was applying for two jobs in the past year--positions that I just knew I wouldn't get. Positions I felt were meant for my consideration, though not for my shoes to fill.

...and, then there were the three other non-paying opportunities I raised my hand to. Ones that would call me out and make me connected, and visible to others--doing things I never imagined myself doing.

...and the conversation with a colleague with hope that he would see me differently. The one where I shared my passion and tried to plant a seed, if ever there arose an occasion where a need would define my strengths.

These were all risk's others often can't understand. And ones I felt with every ounce of who I am, I needed to say Yes to.

The willingness declared that I am important enough to choose strengths instead of shoulds. 

There was a time, recently, when I went to a store and bought myself good, high quality trouser-pants. I paid a lot of money for them. And it was a risk.
Because, do pants really have to cost that much?
What if I don't fit in them a year from now?

At the same store where I bought the pants, a woman suggested I try on a sweater in a size I'd never imagine for me. After dismissing her suggestion, and then quickly considering, only to be pleasantly surprised, I immediately thought out loud that I need to start seeing myself differently.

And right there, at that very moment, the entire year worth of experiences collided into one magnificent firework in the sky of my mind.

I need to start seeing myself differently. 

The Boy dresses up in all funny costumes, using whatever pieces of rubbish scrap he can find. Carefree, a pipe cleaner becomes a necessity to his idea of something. He sees himself as some. one. With a vision that I don't have, he uses everything around him and makes some. thing.

I am astounded at how this speaks to me.

With a conscious decision--a deliberate willingness--
     we can travel a completely different path, 
          seeing things we never could imagine we would, 
               if only we would say Yes to the *invitation.* 

Not always seeing the beauty, I look at the Boy's creation with wonder over what he could possibly thinking. The real astounding thing is to see that he has made Some. Thing.

Choosing Yes gives way to Some. Thing. 

I didn't swim in that race within record speed. And probably not even close to my full potential. But, I said yes and stuck it out. I learned how to breath the best I could, and in the process of trying I learned some valuable things.

The bike I bought isn't a lightweight one that's the most efficient for 25 miles. It's not even a technical road bike. But, it works for me. It's the bike that allows me flexibility to ride with my son on sidewalks still, or grab the old railroad tracks between my parents house and my own.

100 push-ups are broken into five sets, though they're the real ones. It's been my hardest challenge yet, aside from keeping my marriage and raising our child--all three emotional mountains. It took nearly six months to complete and only possible with a willingness to keep on.

And the dog, she slows me down and has her own set of fear when we trod outpre-dawn. I'm not always patient with her and sometimes I complain about her stinkyness. She has helped me bend and flex with the changing weather, demanding that I notice things more.

Those jobs I raised my hand for were definitely not gimme's. Applying for them may seem pointless to one person, and yet necessary for me.

Choices are individual.

How my groom and I make time for each other isn't in the way of advice suggested to us. We have made adjustments and constantly re-adjust, still--seven-years in to belt-tightening family decisions. What we do on a daily basis is the exact reverse of what many in society expect of us.

Being *willing* to See is the first step to seeing yourself as who you are...

...it is surrendering the glasses we see through and trusting that we'll be given the vision for Some. Thing. 

When we live our own story, we never want to go back to living it for them.
We ache inside at the thought of doing something that isn't made for us.

Truth reminds us:
     not everyone is called to every. thing.--
          but, we all are called to some. thing.

As this year concludes and another one attaches to my story,
and as I look around at the different choices of others,
I can't help but long for acceptance--of myself.

I want to See myself as He does. 
I want to live out my commitments. 
I want to inspire you to choose Yes. 

...because, All. Is. For. Purpose.

_______________________________________________

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living gratefully :: perspective

What I have counted as gratitude through the years has been fairly typical.

Health...
     Family...
          Food...
               Home...
                    Friends...

I've always desired growth.

And it's sometimes too often been my preoccupation.

Thinking I'm not good enough the way I am, I would immerse myself in ways to be better and make each day count toward learning and growing.

Learning about {Grace} has changed my living. Immensely.

My perspective of living has widened.

*Today*, my list of gratitude is a hard-thanks.

Only in Seeing and trusting in purpose, am I able to count these... 

• *White Spaces* in my calendar that give way to rest.
• *Community* that calls me to receive love.
• *Understanding* and how it gives Freedom to live.
• *Remembering* my story that shows me {Grace}.
• *Imperfect* as a parent and how it leads me to Trust.
• *Character* and uniqueness for Purpose. 
• *Tugs* that remind me of my heart's desire. 
• *Courage* to live responsibly unique. 
• *Honesty* that living authentically is a hard choice. 
• *Unexpected* {Grace}. 
• *Truth* in our inabilities to control. 
• *Rest* and surrendering. 
• *Quiet* and how it is a place of rest. 
• *Bruising* from fear. 
• *Growth* for purpose. 
• *Acceptance* in friendships and things. 
• *Color* and how it represents possibilities. 
• *Work* and how I grow. 

It's Perspective that I count as gratitude. And this is my worship.

_______________________________________________

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Enamored by {Peace}

He calls me mama and my heart swells with joy.  Every. Time.

I could have not had this.

These days begin with the thump of two-little-growing-feet hitting the floor and what always sounds like a quick dash, maybe even a run, to start his day.  These days end with him gently touching my hair and telling me about his favorite parts of his day.

Not every moment is glorious or even fun.  I grow weary of the discipline and being consistent in the lessons we impart upon him.  There are times when I want to retreat into my fifteen-minute-vacation behind a locked bathroom door, every fifteen-minutes.  I don't always want to play with the boy.  Some times it's cold {in my heart} and I don't want to toss a ball and be a part of our family activities after dinner.

But, I think - I could not have this.  It could be gone later today, or perhaps I could just never have it all to begin with.

Such. Grace.

I don't feel old enough to be a mother, and still I nearly cry whenever I hear him say mama.

Mama...Such. Grace.

A childhood friend recently sent me some pictures from when I was a little girl - from before she first knew me.  I'm guessing I discovered these old pictures in my mother's private space way back then and asked my friend to hide them away, knowing that someday I'd want to keep them for myself.

It's probably been 25 years since my little-girl pictures have been hidden away, and now they've been found.

I look hard and long at the little girl with long blonde hair and the one where she has pony-tails.  I'm enamored by her and I don't know why.  I can't get enough of this little girl and I'm a bit ashamed for how often I steal a glance at the pictures of her, and I wonder if anyone else looks at pictures of themselves from when they were young quite like I do.

The little girl I see doesn't have any idea about the world around her.  She's in her own little world - happy and {peace} full.  I know my parents had issues during the time those pictures were taken, and yet the little girl I see is able to smile.  Seeing *this* makes my heart go all wild inside.

It feels like a magical year of sorts, this year.  And it's not even over yet.  It isn't so much being thirty-one, or seeing my own son live happy and {peace} full in the years that haunted me for so long, as it is discovering myself - who I was created to be.

I've always tried to know me.

Friends have said I know myself better than anyone could know themselves, but it wasn't true.  I tried so hard to find *me* - that little girl inside of me who is happy and at peace.

I wanted {peace}.

This year I'm receiving peace.  I'm living in peace.  Trying so hard isn't so much my focus anymore.  I'm beginning to see how much I am loved - for being me.

I *feel* like a little girl inside and yet each time I look in the mirror there are years that have left lines - some straight and some curved.  I think of how God writes the years of my life and I see that the lines aren't always straight.

In the past four years I've been places where I would not have chosen for me.  And the truth is, I've lived 31 years on a road I would not - and could not - have chosen for me.  And yet, it all *feels* so right somehow.

I respond to mama by the little-face I see standing next to me - the little-boy face who can be seen in my own little-girl face in those pictures from years long ago.  It brings me to tears to see how this child - this boy-man who chatters to me and who wants to be with me - was created from my own life.

My son is different from me in so many ways, and yet in other ways we're the same.  God knew a son would save me.  The symbolism is overwhelming.  I see how He uses children as messengers of His love in all its purity.  This is such a deeply beautiful gift to see.

There's much more I have to say about all of this - about the recent four years {and being mama}, and how grouped together they have wrecked who I made myself to be.  I've come undone and became more of who I was created to be.  I've come face-to-face with that little girl inside of me who is still who she always was - happy and {peace}-full.

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Unwrapped *Gifts* of {Grace}...

...being listened to and cared about...

...giggling in bed with my little boy...

...not being forgotten about...

...a family walk in the rain...

...noticing kind, thoughtful, gentle love from my groom...

...a young boy's excitement for a class field trip...

...skipping and galloping...

...how I hear so much from God during my long drives for work...

...the still little-sounding voice of my child...

...letting God have His way with those I love...

...feeling {peace}...