{Soul Words for When It Seems Slow}

"Mom! Can I please run out there? Please, I need to take a picture of that." 
He pointed urgently through the panels of glass housed in white trim that line the West side of our kitchen and great room.  

Those same panels that I had wiped at ferociously just a few hours earlier. 

Someone was coming the next day to walk through our house. 

There is a large wooden sign out front that tells them they can do this.  

It also tells them that our house could be their next home, if they want it. 

We want them to want it even as we love living in this house.  

We are taking our home to a different set of four-walls-under-roof; a different house.
I do not know where, but we know to be ready. 

So I had scrubbed those windows shiny.  I wondered if they would see? 

Would they see and imagine the beautiful sunsets that frame themselves through these windows? 

As they walked through and considered the size of the rooms, the colors of the granite, the height of the ceilings, would they see the way glory pours into this space from the front and back?

I was so busy hoping they would see. 

But did I see? 
Did I see the glory spilling out into my waiting? 
Did I see the here that was still for me to rest in? 

He came asking, and I saw. 

I put down the veggies I was prepping, dinner could wait.
I put aside my wondering and hoping and frantic cleaning.
There was glory to be had, to be savored and enjoyed.
We grabbed our cameras and went together to capture it.

There is a sign that tells people they may come and buy.
That same sign tells me I will leave sooner than we had thought. 

But the glory is still here, and it is our's to enter into.
It will be there in the next home, wherever and whenever that is.

And there is a young boy who called me to come and see and be filled. 

Because He knows our waiting long,

and hoping hard. 

Because He knows what slow feels like 

and that we feel it strong. 

He tells us to stay in the fray, lean in, press on.
See the glory. Write it down.

His best WILL COME 

{RIGHT ON TIME}. 

Habakkuk2 #MSG

What about you, Dear Reader in this place?
What is your wait? Your Slow?
I welcome you to share here that I might pray for you as I walk alongside you.
Do you see the glory pouring in to your hope?
Write it down, lean in and press on.
{right on time} is on the horizon. 

Pushing Through the Fog for Spiritual White Space

I'm sitting in an old farm house-turned cafe...
Bright canary yellow walls and white molding around me beautifully contrast with the original life-scraped oak floor-boards under my feet. 
It's quiet with only some muffled chatter from the gals working behind the counter and the soft soothing sounds of a water feature in the corner.  
Grapevine has been strung around every arch and door opening, and I wonder where it came from and who put it there; their vision and gifting for beauty strung up for my eye's delight? 

Though several customers have come through for their morning coffee or bakery, only one other customer has settled at a table around the corner in what must have one day been a parlor in this old home; back when the road outside was a narrow county lane, and the nearbye train tracks carried trains by hourly rather than only periodically. My mind wanders to those who built this home, to work a farm and raise their children on Wisconsin soil.
As I glance out at that those iron rails again, I enjoy the way the sun plays through the wavy imperfections of old original glass panes, and I wonder how many pairs of eyes, and whose they were, that have gazed out this exact window at this particular scene.... 

I've come here to pull up and into spiritual white space with my Abba. 
Intentionally setting aside time for lingering with Him.
I had to push through the fog of an early alarm following an interrupted sleep, push through the fog of a coffee-less morning in preparation for some routine blood work, push through the fog of Monday's ruthless beginnings with all of it's fullness and demand. 
No strict agenda for study or method for study has been brought with me. 
Simply His word and my journal; some titles He's been using to delight my soul of late
.
Here I've come, stepping into this old space where history oozes from every creaky floor board, that I might lean hard into the deeply glorious grace of His presence oozing from every step of my current path. 
As always, I am perfectly and fully met, held, known and astounded in ways that will carry forward an unbroken companionship between my soul and His Spirit! 

My mind bounces between this moment and the words of The Word that I read this morning, 
early as the sun was just beginning it's rise behind a dark layer of clouds.

One of God's prophets brought questions; questions just like mine - 
big questions, hard questions; from the gut of his very being queries and wanting to know. 
His heart and mind were raw with disappointment and hard waiting, but he came reverent and bold with his need.

I am awed and met in the way God meets His prophet.  
I know that He receives and answers me with the same faithful mercy.
He hears and receives our questions. 
 This alone floors me with reverence.  
He does not answer with changed circumstances,
or a detailed review on the "why" and "when" of his plans. 

Abba, bigger, better, higher than our minds can fathom, gives something far better.  
He feeds hope and increases faith.

"Look among the nations, and see; wonder and be astounded. 

For I am doing a work in your days 

that you would not believe if told."  Hab 1:5

What is this mercy glimpse into the unseen but a ray of golden light pushing through the fog to stream into my hard and uncertain. 

He tells me this:

If we could see what He is doing, we would not believe it for it's perfection and glory. 
It would be too big, too great for us to hold without bursting. 

Oh to sit my soul there in that truth forever... 
I've been returning over and over the past 36 hours to sit in this truth; this glorious promise; 
this reality which trumps anything looming on my horizon or gurgling within my emotions. 

God's answer to His prophet includes more.  

"Write the vision. Make it plain on tablets 

so he may run who reads it." 

Hab 2:2

He knows me in my dustiness of this flesh, 
in my bearing of His image.
He tenderly gives me glimpse through the fog and then movement within that glimpse.
He knows that I will need a returning and returning to His promise as I move in the race of this life.  
He knows I will need His word for the road, a midst my fight. 

I can visualize the prophet recording his vision from God in a portable and durable scroll that would fit easily in his travel pack...
I place God's words to me on my phone's lock screen, post them in my laundry room, 
clip them to the visor of my mom-mobile.
I memorize them and review them in moments of prayer, in need or rejoicing! 

"For still the vision awaits its appointed time; 

it hastens to the end - it will not lie.

If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; 

it will not delay."  Hab2:3

An Abba's great and tender love that knows with a perfect knowledge the emotions of my path.
A merciful Savior who has Himself tasted the emotions of slow and long waiting.
His Spirit mercifully resounding into those places for my comfort and sustaining faith. 

It will come.
His plans will unfold.
The glory will be seen and known.
The waiting will bring fruit.  
It will be big and glorious and so worth it all.

Is this not the beauty of pulling up and into white space with Him?
This time invested here in this old farm-house cafe on a gray-gold Monday morning. 
This coming boldly with the questions and longing of my soul.
This being sweetly received and fully known. 
This being answered with delicately powerful glimpse of His glory unfolding through my murky fog.
This being answered with the movement of recording His communion with me; 
taking it with me on the road of life; clinging tight at all times to my most precious treasure.
This unbroken companionship of His Spirit comforting, directing, sustaining, forgiving, holding, and steadfastly loving my soul. 

What about you, dear Reader in this place?
Do you have a spiritual white space story of late?
Where and how can you pull up and into unhindered and lingering time before Abba, allowing His word and Spirit to meet with you in ways that you can record and take with you for the road.
May you find sweet time and place to push through the fog for the feeding of your soul on the rest of His answering promises. 

Sunday Link Up {9•14•14}

It's a crisp and bright afternoon. 

Grab an afghan.

I'll brew some fresh coffee. 

Join me for bits of beauty and grace which have floated 

into and around my soul this week...

I've strung them together for you here. 

May they decorate your heart with a delicate bunting of joy and encouragement!

This post, which spoke beauty into cracked and sometimes bleeding places in my soul with a truth-balm that filled my eyes and ran down my cheeks, at the local sandwich shop where I awaited a friend. 

This faith-sister with her gifts of wisdom, brokenness and words, and I was filled to start whispering in my daughter's ear, in her little 4yr old ear....truth which can shatter dark! 

Listen to this and rejoice! Our hope is alive in Christ! 

Do you recall the experience of being a visitor? How much of that experience shapes what you do within your current church interactions?

Because we all need this reminder. 

Ever yearn for an older woman's spiritual mothering but wondered how to go about seeking it out? 

I really appreciated the wise insight and practical suggestions found in this article on the topic. 

This beauty bit makes me long to take up painting.... 

Yes me, who has always claimed complete lack of artist-skill. 

It's amazing the creativity craving that soul-healing has been launching up in my heart; surprising me and pushing me into new places of active rest and worship. 

Do any of you paint? Want to help me start? Or together, let's learn? 

What a sweet love story that stirs reflection of The Great Love story.

And because the first tendrils of Autumn are whisping around here these past crisp days, bookmark this handy Fall Color Report. 

{if you are far, perhaps look up one similar in your area}

Keep an eye on your peak color times and plan for some personal or family  white space out in the vibrancy of God's glorious creation. 

Dear Reader in this place, Monday approaches with it's fullness, busy, calling, and pulling. 

May your soul lean hard into the rhythms of dependence and grace, 

fed richly through unhindered companionship with Abba. 

May you drink of His word and talk with Him about everything, all of the time. 

Look~See~Wonder~Be Astounded... 

Grace fills the horizon! 

Sabbath Morning Soul-Words

Sabbath morning wonder...

For when the week lies behind and ahead and the people gather in. 

For the pressing into worship with voices, hearts, and hands raised. 

For the intersecting of big grace with our deepest needs. 

For the looking to see, to wonder and be astounded. 

Dear Friday }} A Day for Counting Gifts

Ah Friday,
You found me quick and fast in this cycle of seven.
Abba's goodness finds me faster.  He is the theme of my thoughts, my life's rhythms and heart song.
Filled with possibility, you greet us, Friday.
Will you hold unfolding, answer, provision, or more waiting; stretching on out of our sight?
I know this.
I know that you hold His faithfulness in rich supply.
I know the One who holds your season, this one serving up of 24 sixty-minute packages of fleeting time.
I know Who holds my hopes and dreams, my waiting and longing, my hoping and reflecting.
So I greet you, Friday, with your extra possibility, your tenuous hope, and your sure anchoring.
Together you and I, Friday, can count up, take inventory, lay out and catalog rich treasures of grace, lavish amounts of steadfast love, and delightful beauty.

Remembering:

~The startling joy beaming from my girlie's face as she slowly, so delicately, made her way down a Bridal isle. 
She was small - almost too small to be seen if you weren't seated just right, with her sparkling purple shoes, shimmery gray dress, and a sweet braid tucking back her fine golden hair. 
What grabbed this momma's heart was the sheer joy that never left her face, the intention with which she let fly each petal, and the way her tiney 4yr old heart grasped the significance of her role enough to beam..... 
a bride was coming. the groom was waiting. She got it and she delighted in it.
"All glorious is the princess in her chamber, with roves interwoven with gold...
Hear O daughter, and consider, and incline your ear...
the King will desire your beauty. Since He is your LORD, bow to Him," Ps45

~Moments of absolute craziness that paired me with two days of painful thigh muscles; still gets me giggling, though I'll never regret embracing risk and pushing back predictable in order to lean in tight to the spiritual white space He gave me.
The full story; your favorite on the blog this week.

~A dark caramel-colored table for two at a favorite Lunch spot.  
The dear grace-Sister that met with me there shared real time and real heart with me. as. is. Our souls rested in the connection we shared there.

~A call that came after 7 months of silence.
Reminder of His power and presence over our waiting.
Kept, Held, Known, Received, Heard

~"Please say yes."
The text ended with this. He asked me to dinner. alone. just us.
Relational white space weaves itself seamlessly into the fabric of our marriage, punctuated by laughter and dreaming together. 
He pursues relentlessly.  I respond. We are both met and filled. 

~Two grace-Sisters on my couch. A fresh book to lead our study. In-the-moment prayer for one another. The joy of new and deepening friendships that truly feed one another. 


Reading:

~Psalm 45 has drawn me in for a lingering, celebrating the love of my heart's Bridegroom.
With it's fairy tale rhythms of Victorious Rescue {vs1-5}, Courtly Wooing {vs6-12}, and the culmination of a Royal Wedding {vs13-17}, these lines of inspired prose have won my joy time and again, and with greater promise each morning this week.

In the first half of "When a Woman Finds Her Voice; 

Overcoming Life's Hurt & Using Your Story to Make a Difference" by Jo Ann Fore.
The forward begins, "Eons ago, before you were born, God designed you with a unique purpose to discover and fulfill on earth. He's always intended to use every part of your life - no matter how broken - in his kingdom-building plan."
I have taken Fore's challenge and recommendation to interact with each chapter completely, journaling through the application sections and allowing her questions to mentor my heart in line with scripture. 
I am taking my time and gleaning much from each chapter.

Favorite benefits so far include, clarity to understand where and how I have chosen to hide the "voice" of God's work in my life behind the masks of "The Approval Addict" or "The Performer".
Also exhortation to chose intentional sharing of my pain in appropriate fellowship in a way that transforms doubt and insecurity into hope shared because of Christ.

I must make brief note, because I know some of you dear readers in this place, that you may have a reflexive reaction to some of Fore's lingo as being "humanistic". 
{ I know this because I, myself, have been there and am navigating my own trained reactions to lingo use, seeking and discerning by use of scripture what is Spirit-led, and what is of pre-wired, fear-based methodology.}
This book must be read as it is written - to those in Christ.  Therefore when the author speaks of "deserving" or "being worthy", these truths are to be read and rightly walked in as the identity imputed to us through Christ, rather than humanistic terms to be shied away from.
With that notified, I do recommend it to any who may feel drawn to this topic.

Savoring:

~These first very cool and Autumn-like days!
~Coffee.  I never stop savoring this common grace of roasted and steamy brew!
~Hope. Possibility. Motivation to be ready. It's always there, but some days He ordains we feel it strong. 
~A very clean house. {one of the perks to the waiting we're in.}
~A sweet new connection with a long-time friend.  She catches hearts and hears their voice.
~Steve. Steve. Steve. Nothing makes me smile and laugh until my eyes swell shut like that man with ~his fun and ever-constant loving well.
~A 4th week of complete release from a besetting diet laziness. {gettin' real here} Completely gone with the exception of some short mental battles which were quickly won. I've been hesitant to talk of this new freedom here in this place, for fear that it wouldn't be real or lasting, but away with that mask. 
I'm simply walking in God's goodness and savoring it.

Listening:

~A new SGM single. 

Watch for it in the Sunday Link-Up.

~Most of Jason Gray's album, "a way to see in the DARK"
These:

"A Way To See"

"Fear Is Easy. Love Is Hard"

"Take My Hand" by Lindsay McCaul

Planning:

~This for new tastes and full tummies around the life-scratched table top.

~ Fun, laughter, some sweets shared and memories made with the four smallers who will make camp in our guest space this evening.  Their mommy and Dad are running off together for 24. The joy my people will get from shared time with these people is fun to behold.

Thinking:

On this..... still.....

And this:

And posting this in front of my eyes.

Dear Reader in this place, 
as you meet with Friday's intermixing finish lines and restful beginnings, may your count up, take inventory and relish the grace all around you.
Share something here if you wish: 
Something remembered, read, listened to, savored, planned.... 
I would so welcome knowing about your grace stewarded. 

{Soul Words For An Overcast Day}

For when the waiting stretches far, a closed door tastes fresh, and unanswered questions ring loud in the mind's ear. 

For the running hard and fast to His arms, His ready receiving of my dreams, my yearnings, my disappointment.

His consoling comfort and love.
For the asking again and receiving again that sweet assurance of Abba's voice speaking my soul's freedom and joy. 

For the resting; simple unhindered, untouchable resting of my soul in grace. 

For where I am met and held in the waiting and watching onward. 

{Isaiah 41 paraphrased via The Message}

Ruthlessly Choosing Spiritual White Space {or Bare-Footed and Filled Up}

On a cement piling which juts out into Lake Michigan, noise from the city above me muted,  
I am drowned in the sound of waves rushing and crashing against the piling below, the shorline behind me. 

My eyes are filled with the bright blues and swirling whites of a still-dawning new day.
Rays of light powerfully playing on moving water, casting sparks of glory atoss with each wave and ripple. 
The cement I sit on is firm and cool from a not far gone nightime's dark. 
My Bible, book and coffee are at hand. 
The wind works it's playfull mess in my hair, and I let it...

It was a ruthless chasing that led me here, 
to this place where all of my senses were completely released from the busy, 
my mind and heart allowed to slow and fully engage in alone time with my Abba.

I had planned on the predictable comforts of a bench alongside a manicured walking path, with it's secure distance from waters edge, it's close proximity to my car's parking spot.
It would offer views and sounds, but remained detached from a true experiencing of the lakeshore in it's fullest God-glory.

I needed to be closer, to be as near those crashing waves and sun rays as possible...
I contemplated the rugged footpath {at least a 60degree decline} 
of sharp rock and pressed dirt. 
My flipflops were not practical. There was a risk of falling, 
but the craving of my soul to pull as far into these moments and this place as possible beckoned me; pulled and drew me. 

Slipping off the sandals, book bag slung over one sholder, I slowly embraced the risk of dirty feet, inched onto the decline, and found the path down to be steep, but secure and my mouth filled with giggles over the sight I must be. 

The footpath leveled off in a low thicket which I crept through, startling a few scavenging birds and over-zealous chipmunks before breaking through to ravishing beach glory. 

Looking over my shoulder, I saw from where I had come and joyously embraced the space where God had set aside time for me to be with him;
pefectly welcomed always. as. is. 

Is this not how finding spiritual white space is? 
Getting into a place to listen; hearing His call.
Allowing the crave of your soul to draw you tighter; leaning further into these moments.
Choosing to abandon predictable, to slow the normal, to embrace the bare-footed risk of ruthlessly chasing down His Spirit's invitation over our soul-rest! 

And what is found, 
but joy infinite; knowing and being known in His always-welcome.
Slow communing, His word, His Spirit, my heart bare with all of it's wounded, broken, messy, gross need; 
scars constantly met with perfect healing and transformation into invaluable grace-marks; beauty lines marking my heart as His.
Redemption alive in my rested and filled soul.

"Sing aloud, O daughter of Zion {His People}; 
Shout, O Israel {His Chosen One}
Rejoice and exult with all your heart...
The Lord has taken away the judgements against you;
He will rejoice over you with gladness;
He will quiet you by His love, 
He will exult over you with loud singing... "{Zephaniah3}

I later climbed back up that steep foot path, the sounds of the city with all of it's bustle again meeting my ears. 
There was a friend to meet with, laundry to fold, a broken dishwasher,  communication to manage, and my people to love big. 
I climbed back into my normal 
{my world, my heart, my soul held} 
known and filled to the overflow of rich grace and love into all that my face, words, hands would meet.

White space; the space which all true artists 

{of whom He is supreme} 

purposefully leave bare or undefined to give greater illumination to what is present upon their canvas. 
This space, it is not blank,  but gives the eye a place to rest; 
not wasted, but breathing beauty into the work or the piece. 
You will find it everywhere if you look. In a piece of music with it's purposeful pauses and rests, in art, in the beauty of a speech given or song sung... even upon this blog page, unmarked white space allowing these words to unfurl void of the clutter which would drown them should white space be avoided. 

Our souls; God's masterpiece, where He delights to beautifully paint the image of His Son; 
They need white space, unmarked times alone with Abba, for rest and beauty to unfurl free of clutter.  
To fill all soul-space with structured routines, constant going, constant pouring out, constant doing void of being.  
If every Bible time becomes about preparing for the next small group or study, 
if every prayer time finds it's definition in some list, some clock, or some cool acronym, 
our soul's will crave unmet, our creativity will diminish, our experience of His meeting us will become rote, impersonal. 

I know this. 
I have been here. 

Jesus knew this.
He withdrew to be with His Father. 
He set aside the predictable, didn't tell anyone where He was going, and leaned into those moments with His Abba. 
In His perfect living there in that broken flesh like mine,
He did this that I might do it.
That I might move through that torn down veil, gathering up my gowns of beauty, running through courts of infinite majesty to His presence for the sheer delight of doing so. Outstretched arms, scarred hands always swinging me in welcome; gathering me in. His scars healing mine. every. time.
It is in this communing white space, drunk on rivers of His delight in me, that my soul finds it's unhindered companionship with my sweet Abba, Savior, and Spirit Comforter!

"My heart overflows with a pleasing theme; I address my verses to the king' my tongue is like the pen of a ready writer...
You are the most handsome of the sons of men, 
Grace is poured upon your lips, 
In your majesty ride out victoriously, 
Therefore God, your God has anointed you with the oil of gladness, 
Your robes are all fragrant with myrrh and aloes, and cassia...
Hear, O daughter, and consider, and incline your ear...
the king will desire your beauty, 
Since He is your LORD, bow to Him..." {Psalm45}

Sometimes it's on our back deck, or at the life-scratched table top,  or from my favorite reading chair, or through a quiet stroll, 
but O, how I am being given by His love to know this deep desire and the intense priority He has for my ruthless guard of spiritual white space.

What about you?
Does your soul crave unmarked spiritual white space? Are you thirsty for this? 
Do you know what it tastes of?
Are you eager over guarding unhindered spots of life and space to be, simply be, with Him? 
Do your Bible-open times reflect communion alongside study? 

Where can you carve this out? 
{A cafe nearby, on a quiet stroll as evening falls, in the early dawn's still? }
What activities of His image-bearing can you nurture as reflection of His constant companionship?
{Creating? Arranging? Cooking? Writing? Gardening? Athletic training?...}
His unique crafting of your specific giftings and interests are designed to draw your soul towards refreshment and intimite knowing of Him. 

Resist the critics 
{inside and outside your ear}
 that declare selfishness afoot; a response that is in keeping with the Enemy's desire to stifle and cripple our soul's deepest worship and imaging of Abba. 
Move into deeper soul-rest by guarding your communion with Him and the outworking ways He delights to breathe beauty through you into the mission He has called you to. 

Have a spiritual white space moment? place? story? 
Share it here in this place for my grace-sisters to love {and learn from and lean on} one another!