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Showing posts with the label musings

Ache is Not Equal

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Following another prompt challenge this week to keep my thoughts flowing and try to be more consistent in posting. I’m a couple days behind on this one hosted by @meredith_mcdaniel, but the Lord has insisted I do NOT overlook or scoot by this first one: ACHE. First off in my head is this—ACHE does not equal pain. Let’s unpack a bit of that thought with the following quote leading the way. “Pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”   ―  C.S. Lewis A dear friend of mine messaged me this morning and mentioned a couple of different directions I could travel with “ache” as my prompt. She noted both my physical aches as well as that perspective of my heart ache. Using the Lewis quote above, I experience God using the daily ache of my body, driven by a 2001 diagnosis of fibromyalgia, to remind me how dependent I am on Him just to swing my legs over the

Thursday Thanks Tank (Sort of)

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Let's be perfectly honest and gut-level REAL today. I DON'T feel thankful. at. ALL. I woke up this way: Frustrated Anxious Irritated Angry Exasperated Grumpy Eyes burning Nose stuffy Feet pain-filled from their first contact with the floor Ears ringing and itchy ( maybe somebody's talking about me says the old wive's tale) Not a wife A mother to adults who selectively adult and set my teeth on edge A new puppy mom to a quickly growing and energetic one who is also on my last nerve today. Annoyed that I am still blogging here even though I bought my domain and have been spending my pennies since July on a website where I still feel like a guest, can't figure out how to even set up a blog, or make the whole thing private so my failure in this venture isn't out there for everyone's eyes or WORSE no one's eyes ever to see. Soooo . . . what to do with my crabby, cranky, ungrateful self? My worries are so miniscule in comparison to

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.

By Name

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I can go days without hearing my name. Does that ever happen to you? You spend your entire day never hearing your name called by anyone. I have two names I routinely am called these days. Pam, of course, and Mama or Mom (used only by my son). Yet in the course of many of my days in this season, I am addressed as nothing.  Oh, I exchange words with my son, but he doesn't necessarily call me by name. He knows who I am, and we fall into conversations without addressing and using each other's given names. I share pleasantries with the people at ALDI, and while I use the names of those I know -- they are not obligated, nor do many of them know my given name. I can slip through my day without ever hearing my name aloud. A bit disconcerting now that I've allowed my mind to drift there. It doesn't change who I am or make me question my value as a person. It is . . . maybe just a reason for pause. Do I do the same thing with the Lord? Do I wake up and begin

Eighteen Years

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Eighteen years. Yes, it takes 18 years for that newborn to officially be declared an "adult", but I'm referring to another group of years heavy on my heart today. For the past 18 years in a row I have joined the throngs of other mamas on the first day of school. My news feed today is loaded with smiling faces, new clothes, new backpacks, lunch boxes, and my absolute favorite -- a brand new box of crayons! School starts early here in my area, and though we are far, far away from a real seasonal "Fall"-- summer is effectively over for so many. Though it's been many, many more years since I participated in the back to school frenzy as a student, I cannot lie that I got butterflies in my stomach every single night before the first day of school for my three for the past 18 years. I sit here this morning in a very different place in almost two decades. I have no one starting school. I have no new backpack in front of my door waiting to be scooped u

Thursday Thanks Tank

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( a time to intentionally redirect my gaze and give testimony to the ways God blesses me) Good Morning! I'm not good at faking things. I have one of those faces and apparently even one of those texting styles that reveals my true thoughts in spite of the emojis I choose to tack on to the end of my full sentences. Yes, I am a " grammar girl " and text with case sensitivity and punctuation. ( You never know who might be watching, of course!) Back to my first comment . . . I'm not good at faking or pretending. I can't hide it if I'm not doing well or feel deflated. It's written all over my face and bleeds through into my writing. So, I am going to follow through with a commitment I made to myself in breathing life back into my blog.  I will intentionally take time at least once each week to give thanks for how God is filling my tank. He doesn't stop doing it just because I don't feel upbeat and grateful.  He doesn't

Called to Remember . . . Or Not?

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REMEMBER We are called to remember. God considered the concept of remembering so important He referenced it no less than 150 times in the Old and New Testaments combined. The verse in question today turns the idea of "remembering" on its head and cautions us what NOT to remember. "Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old." Isaiah 43:18 ESV I'm taking this one to mean don't dwell on the past. It's okay to remember it but don't stay there. Don't fixate on the things of old. Learn from it. Let it give you wisdom for your future self. The following quote struck me as I have been forcing myself to go back as far as I can remember, to get back to that little Pam who was unblemished by years of mistakes, missteps, and misremembering (I guess that really is a word!): "Children will not remember you for the material things you provided but for the feeling that you cherished them." Richard L. Evans  I find

A "Sound" Mind

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"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." 2 Timothy 1:7 (NKJV) I would describe myself of "sound mind". Most days. Yet, when I wake up with thoughts scattered, ideas banging around in my head and my heart, and trying to capture them is akin to corralling a swarm of dragonflies -- I certainly wonder. Am I of "sound mind" as Paul would have described in sharing this with his beloved son, Timothy? I spend my time flitting back and forth between spiritual pursuits, training to be a profitable writer, painting my heart out, looking for sustainable employment, keeping my home from crawling up around me in clutter, . . . and untold hours scrolling social media to see what others are doing that is better, wiser, and more profitable than what I find myself doing. My mind is as cluttered as my news feed, and I tear myself away to hover over the next thing for a moment, only to find the beckoning loud enoug

An Audience of One

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We all have fears that have kept or keep us from pursuing the ___________ (fill in the blank) we know the Lord has put on our hearts. Voices in our heads. Taunting from a variety of places and spaces. For me, those fears are all related to my writing or making art. I get stuck and feel like a fake. Then I write nothing. at. all. Let's examine a couple of official terms for this oft-recurring deterrent to us having more good writing to read. Imposter Syndrome :  The  imposter syndrome  is a psychological term referring to a pattern of behavior where people doubt their accomplishments and have a persistent, often internalized fear of being exposed as a fraud. This article is a wonderful resource. Comparison trap: " The temptation to compare is as near as your next chat with a friend, trip to the store, or check-in on social media. And whether you come out on top or come up lacking, there is simply no win in comparison. It’s a trap," according to Sandra Stanle

He Lights Up the Sky for You

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Good morning, friends! Let's talk about God's visible presence today. Does anyone like storms? I adore lightning. The last thing I saw before bed last night was what I know as "heat" lightning. No actual rain or thunder accompanying the lights in the sky, but fascinating to watch, nonetheless. I am ceaselessly enraptured by the displays God puts on for me. Now my Heavenly Father works in my life all the time without visible results. His hand is moving without my provocation and He needn't consult me to enact His perfect will in my life.  Yet, oh, isn't it lovely and glorious when He gives us visible signs of His majesty, His power, and His creative work? I am stopped in my tracks at lightning in the sky.  This works better for all involved if I'm not behind the wheel of a car, but I do try to keep my eyes on the road if a light show is in progress.  The same goes for my rainbow chaser nature. I'm sure I regularly st

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