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Showing posts with the label broken

Be Kind

BE KIND ____________________________ I have a pattern. When crisis comes, whether it be personal or nationwide, I begin mulling things over, measuring my response, weighing my words, contemplating what I may have to add to the noise, the frenzy, the quick responders who sometimes speak and then think. I’ve often chided myself for not being “quick on my feet” when it comes to arguing or taking a stand. Yet I know God created me this way for a reason. My words can be like a whip. I have a veritable vocabulary-stocked Arsenal, and without thinking I can cause bomb-like damage when I choose to shoot off those words without wisdom leading the charge. I have hurt plenty who have crossed my path, but the years have been kind and taught me much. KIND (a four-letter word) One we all should practice more daily. When I don’t have the words I’d like to express at times, I turn to those who do. The following is from @holleygerth in her book #fiercehearted: “We aren’t called to be NICE. (also a four

He Knows Our Names

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As most of us already know by the widespread news coverage and swiftly sweeping social media posts of yesterday, Kobe Bryant and his 13-year-old daughter, Gianna (Gigi) were killed in a helicopter crash, along with seven other passengers including the pilot. Immediately this morning upon engaging on social media, I found myself scrolling through tributes, heartfelt words of sympathy, well wishes, and prayers offered to Vanessa Bryant and her three surviving daughters. I heartily include myself in those numbers today, because I cannot fathom the effort just breathing in and out takes for a woman faced with such a devastating blow and loss beyond what any of us should ever have to bear. The loss of a spouse has its own set of heartbreak, but to compound that agony with the loss of a child in the same breath is beyond any superlatives I can think of in my vocabulary storehouse. So, as often as Holy Spirit prompts me, I shall gladly intercede on behalf of Vanessa, Natalia, Bianka

NEW: hope*writers Challenge Day One

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New. Like new. Newborn. New again. Renew. All words and phrases tumbling around in my head as I try to wrap my brain around what the start of a new year has for me. As a youngster I found it a bit disappointing that though the fanfare of a new year was big, I woke up January 1 much the same as my December 31 self had gone to bed. Once deemed old enough, I joined in the fun of watching both Guy Lombardo’s New Year’s Eve special and the much cooler New Year’s Rocking Eve hosted by Dick Clark — with whom I was already acquainted from countless Saturday afternoons watching American Bandstand (the only acceptable segue from Saturday morning cartoons). As an adult, I am still a bit underwhelmed at the reality of awakening New Years Day with any significant change underway. The view from this side is slower to come into focus than I’d probably prefer. I wish I were better at switching gears. Unfortunately, the date on the calendar does NOT make everything I’d like to leave behind

We Can Be Perfectly Clothed

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Core Wounds. We all have them. No one escapes childhood without one or more of these core beliefs that shape and drive the way we approach and avoid throughout the rest of our entire lives. How do we go from eager, unassuming, adventurous toddlers to fearful, hesitant, sometimes paralyzed adults? I cannot unhear the things my parents unknowingly said that contributed to the haunting words and phrases still echoing in my mind more than 50 years later. It isn't their fault, and I cannot blame them for the enemy twisting their words to virtually strangle and suffocate me for decades. I cannot unsay those I said to contribute to the ones rattling around in the minds of my three adult children. It is not my fault or my responsibility to erase all the mistakes I made in the two-plus decades I've been a mama. I was not, nor am I able to heal the damage that's been done from my own mouth or the mouths of others with whom they've crossed paths in their steep clim

Seen and Known

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Seen and known. We all long to be seen and known. In our quest for this reality, We are hopeful. We invest ourselves. We are present-- Ever present. We make eye contact. We listen. We catalog tidbits and nuggets Gaining ground, getting close. All a strategy in the seeing All a pursuit of the knowing. We know so much . . . And so little. Our longing hearts Seek more. Not just the seeing Not just the knowing. Seen and known. We want what we cannot make. We give, but with no giving back; We cannot take. We feel the lack. And so we still sit alone. Seen and known.

Strong Looks Like . . .

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I do NOT look strong. I am barely 5' tall even on my fluffiest hair day anymore. My image definitely ascribes to and lives out the following verse: "So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is  wasting   away , our inner self is being renewed day by day." 2 Corinthian 4:16 ESV However, the pictured verse is where I will choose to camp for a moment today: "I ask the Father in His great glory to give you the power to be strong INWARDLY through His Spirit." Ephesians 3:16 NCV  Though my outward appearance and my own perspective of myself may indicate I have no strength or power on my own, I can ask the Father for that power through His Spirit. I can ASK for it. Inward strength. I firmly believe our Father is delighted when we recognize we can't do it. We have no strength on our own. We finally lie down at His feet and seek Him and His power. We admit we can't do it. I know I can't. I am a veritable weakling in my own strengt

Beauty in the Broken

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The BEACH.  My solace.  My refuge.  The place my heart soars and my soul is at rest.  Don't get me wrong. I find beauty in every single day. I see God's power and majesty on a regular basis in the mundane and the extravagant. He is visible all around me when I take the time to intentionally look around and acknowledge His presence.  Yet at the beach, I stand at the water's edge and watch the methodical lapping of the waves against the shore. Or in stark contrast, I find myself in awe of the pounding of the wild and gusty surf during a storm.  The powerful hand of my God moves the entire ocean, and it shoots sand and salty spray into my eyes -- chafing my skin and sending shocks of exhilaration into my heart. I am thrilled at His power and majesty so visible. The same power that propels the water to the shore and pounds the coastline with such unrelenting vigor is what alters my other very favorite past time at the beach.  I am a sheller. From my very f