Sunday Grace-Links {{10•5•14}}

If you were here with me, dear readers in this place....

Here with me as I buy up these precious moments of resting with my people, 

eating good food, 

and of course enjoying the football fervor interspersed... 

{both on the big screen, and in the space of big stretching beyond our back windows where green is bright under blue skies. 

Autumn winds blow, and the boys of us, of church, and neighborhood, play with as much passion as the professionals they admire.} 

There could be additional mugs of steaming coffee resting next to mine at the life-scratched table. 

I would love to ask and hear your hearts, the bits of beauty and grace that touched your living with big mercy this past week. 

I would show you mine, and together we could laugh, nod, and wonder afresh at the joy in this pilgrimage pathway that leads us to deep and abiding hope....

I am happy to share with you words and pictures; the strands of communication beauty that have wound themselves through my heart and mind with truth, conviction, encouragement, and joy...

A bunting of beauty strung out...

In honor of "national coffee Day" celebrated this past Monday, 

feast your eyes on these amazing images

{my favorite pictured above}! 

Coffee can be fine art; soul-stirring or at least mouth-watering! 

Have you read this yet? 

"You don’t have to worry: We all get to make one unforgettable mark. And every day, with every word, we get to decide: Do we mar the world, or mark the world?"

A post to bookmark and return to. 

Because this story never gets old. 

They carry in their hearts a choosing, reaching, claiming love. Their wait will be rewarded with rich joy. All of us know the gospel with deeper taste because of knowing this expectant couple....

Have you or someone you know been wounded by the great sins of another? 

Our Avenger Restores what is lost. 

"...the gospel promises a God who himself is our avenger. He will bring ultimate justice that doesn’t merely seek an eye for an eye but promises true and full restoration of all that was lost." 

This is GOOD NEWS! 

Because THIS is becoming such an important part of reaching-gospel love in our culture. Read. Discuss with your teens. Welcome opportunity to extend this type of community to those God brings across your path regardless of where they struggle with the gospel's call on their living! 

Because Wisconsin has been graced with some of Autumn's deepest beauty, and whether or not you're excited to be pulling out sweaters and lighting up your hearth, 
these captured evidences of God's creative glory bursting into color are thrilling!

And based on your response, the grace stewarded here with my clicking away at these keys to share my heart, struck a chord of deep relating in you.  

My joy has only multiplied with each comment, email, and conversation you have extended to me, dear readers in this place. 

You have spurred me on...

May we all continue to lean hard into the not-yet, already-here of grace right under our feet; 

making home, making family, living big into the unknown laid out before us...
Starting with the full calling of Monday in the morning....

be full on grace

rich in love

soul-resting in His unbroken presence

Of Potted Mums and Waiting Free

"Don't stop making home" she said to me.
We were standing outside a mutual friend's house, pulling on jackets and leaving in the same moments gave us pause for some conversation.
Deep red mums filled porcelain pots on the stoop of the house behind us; showcasing the home's french blue siding with white trim in stunning declaration of Autumn, and welcome, and beauty.

I had just bemoaned the fact that pots have not been planted or displayed on my stoop this Summer.
They were resting empty and far too clean in a cabinet nestled into the corner of our garage.
There are three of them, one for each of my people to arrange assorted Summer flowers planted, water and watch bloom.
There had been none of that tradition this Summer.
Now that Autumn is here, there weren't any dried up Summer flowers to replace with bright, full Autumn mums.

I felt strangely both guilty and apathetic over this. 

It had not been a studied, or even conscious, decision, but even in that statement, I knew what lay at the root of my neglect of our front stoop.
I voiced it outloud to her there in that front yard.

The hard news of school policies changing.  The prayer over how to react.  
The direction clear in my Favorite's face.
"We need to sell."
He and I had both cried over that decision.  
This house, so sweetly situated between pond and prairie, between sunrise and sunset, with it's perfect amount of space for just us five, and all of the loves we welcome in here.

It felt like a failure.

Only two years in this bright spot, but so filled with laughter, party memories, Christmas joy, and the arduous process of professionally finishing large basement rooms.
{When you and your home do months together in sawdust, sweat, paint and mess, your heart bonds right into the 2x4s and fixtures as they come to life to hold more of the living and loving you will do.}

It wasn't a house we were deciding to sell, it was our home.

On a cold February evening, our trusted broker traversed every square foot of this home with us.  There was talk, plans, and signing of important papers.
A few days later, a large wooden sign pounded into the snow covered front lawn.
Our home would now be available to those looking and searching.
I thought that would be the hard surrender....
It wasn't.

The hard hit in the following months of silence.
Month upon month scooted past without a call, an inquiry, or even a hint of interest....
We trusted and prayed and trusted some more, but waiting stretches a soul tight.
I became numb with uncertainty in what my Summer might hold.
Maintaining a home, but unable to start any new projects; a constant nagging sensation that I should be keeping things cleaner, sorting, purging just in case that buyer came.
And in the midst of all of this numbness, I never potted flowers in our pots.
Our stoop remained swept and ready, but empty.
Summer happened.  The pots did not.

After 8 months, the phone did begin to ring. 6 times now.
The hard hit again and in new ways. 

I have scooted into gear, polishing out a sparkle in every corner before herding us into the van for the disappearing act that allows strangers to come walking through, and peeking into, places even my closest friends have not seen.

With each potential buyer, my heart has surged, and with each ensuing silence, it has dropped.
The lowest grabbed me on the day I crammed a week's worth of housekeeping into one full morning only to receive an email canceling the expected showing for that afternoon.
There were tears that day and a rich clinging to Abba's tender perfect knowing of, and unending welcome for, my soul.
It turned out to be a sweet day of comfort...

And then the next day I stood there with her on our friend's front steps, looking together at deep red mums, and I heard her say words that sprang into my heart with such instant freedom.
"Don't stop making home. Go ahead and plant your pots for this Fall.
Make it bright and welcoming."

I realized there in that moment, and haven't been able to shake it since, 

that in all of this sadness over selling this home,
in all of this waiting and then hard working for what feels like nothing, 
I had stopped making home. 

Sure I've done more housekeeping than I would have attempted for the next year,

but I had checked out on making home with my heart, with my joy, with the parts of me that compulsively choose and plant pretty pots to display welcome, and home, and beauty...

It has been one week since I heard her say those words, and she has prayed for me in that week.
The Spirit has been doing some things to anchor my thoughts in trust and a confident rest.
My numbness to this process has lifted as did my grief over the closed doors we have received.
My hope has been renewed.
I actually began to plan another Christmas in this home, should the Lord give it to us, as well as some Autumn glory for the front stoop.

Today I stood in an outdoor garden center's check out line.

Trailing behind me was an iron wagon with beautiful Autumn plants, {one of them, a deep red mum}
Much more than a purchase was happening in that bright sunshine. 

Uncertainty, numbness, and grief were being exchanged for freedom to simply be right in the middle of this hard process.
Here, with all of the unknown still stretching out front, and all of this bright and warm soul-growth happening here in the middle, I was going to make home on my front steps.

As I stood enjoying the mother/daughter customers in front of me purchasing their plants, my phone rang.
Could we do it again?
Tomorrow?
They were sorry about the emergency cancel and still want to come see our home.
They want to explore all of the hidden places and ponder whether or not it could be home for them.

I hung up my phone with an overwhelming peace, and hurried home to fill some pots.
This place of ready waiting, of possibility that comes in waves before receding; 
it need not be a place of numbness and fatigue.
Because we wait not for circumstances to change, but rather on the One who holds all things together by the power of His word....
This is a waiting of wild and free living.
This is a waiting on the not-yet with the already-here fullness of His rich grace.
The freedom to make home in a house we plan to leave. 
The freedom to eek out every last moment of joy and big love in this place. 
The freedom to open our doors to those who might offer to take this home from us in a fearless joy. 

My soul tastes of things I would not have found had God not brought us into this long stretch with it's high-rolling tides and roller coaster plunges. 
He has surrounded us behind and before, and right here under our feet, with lavish grace.
One generous part of which has been the friend who spoke words to open eyes and move hands {and pot some plants on a front door step!} 

"Be still before the LORD, and wait paitently for Him...
The meek will inherit the land and delight themselves in abundant peace." Ps37:7,11

What about you, Grace-friend in this place? 

Are you in a waiting that stretches long? 

Do you wait alive and full with the grace right under your feet?

Where do you need to make home in the middle of unknown?

Know how I would welcome your sharing in this place and the opportunity to pray for you.

A Song for the Soul {{here in the middle}}

Stooping To Reach {{a spiritual white space post}}

My bare feet rest on cool red bricks as I sit here on our front stoop.
My eyes glance along and follow the path of neatly laid, carfully planned, and purposefully placed rectangular cubes.
At their end, my sight is drawn up and through the framing archway to rest on sparkling pond waters across the road from our front yard. 
The Sun faces me in his rising course.  
His rays praising the Lord without end. My heart echos.

"The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance." Ps16:6

It's being carved out here this morning; this lingering, unhindered time in unbroken companionship within my Abba's presence. 
I did not have to drive far, or pay a dime to carve out this space, this time, this beauty of soul-rest. 
It was simple. He called. He drew me through my own front door to be close to the glory placed right in front of me. 

This space of brick and stone.  This place that carries the feet of family and friends up to our door and into our home.  
This place of mundane functionality and, somewhat understated purpose.
His Spirit teaching me to gather the things of our communing and sit a while with him on this slab of formed concrete we call a stoop.

That term of this place is not lost on my heart. 
Stoop; "To bend oneself forward and downward, often to reach..."
One word, five letters, infinite meaning and truth. 
Is this not the very gut responding posture of finding spiritual white space.  
That space of unmarked, agenda-free rest which allows the spiritual work God is doing with one's soul to shine forth in highlight.  
Artists get it. Architects use it. Creation screams it.
Stop. Chose slow. Look and hear. 
Give the eye, the heart, the soul a place to rest that glory might shine forth.
Leaning your body, your mind, your soul forward to rest; reaching hard for the worth of an unhindered glory to fill and flood and to overflow in the rhythms of our living. 

"You make me know the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forever more." Ps16:11

I lift my eyes again to this space, changing in beauty with each passing moment of the sun's heightening angle. 
My eyes seek out and run along the lines that moss traces between rows of brick. 
This soft green calls for the touch of finger or toe....undeniable invitation. 
We did not plant or water this firmly delicate growth.  We simply receive the gift of it. 
How can such living comfort arise so perfectly between the layers of hard set here? 

It is the space between, not wasted, not dangerous or shallow or selfish...
The space between gives definition, order, and provides for this unfolding moss-beauty.

My heart knows the same sweet grace; the positioned and guarded moments of spiritual white space set within the rigid calls of life and ministry; this inbetween which breeds the soft green of growth and comfort within my soul. 
Abba's gentle communion with me; a gift received.
The bricks mark out the path.  They lead visitors to the door, 
but it is the gentle moss that softens the walk, feeding beauty to the traveler and extending undeniable invitation. 

"Times of refreshing come from the presence of the Lord..." Acts3:20

Bricks, a stoop, bright green moss streaming together in tangible affirmation that 
I am met here in the stopping, the slowing and the resting into moments between that bright glory-growth might be received; filling my soul with soft beauty to offer those He has called me to...

What about you, dear Grace-friend in this place? 

Where is Abba calling you to stoop and reach for spiritual white space? 

Is there a mundane place in your world, commonly used for something else, but where you might draw aside with Him just to see and note His glory displayed?

Are you allowing inbetween spaces within your heart, mind, or schedule where the bright soft beauty of simply knowing His presence might spring up and soften your path? 

Please know my hearts welcome to hear you share in this place...

Sunday Grace Links {{9•28•14}}

Grace-friends in this place...

With less time in the extra reading category this week, I have fewer links to share with you, but the bits of beauty I have strung together in this one post are of the soul-joy that lined my path along the way this week and caused me to think of you.

May you click, read, and share with me in the deep encouragement that each one brings. 

Such a sweet word of assurance. 

Simultaneously leading our little ones while being led by Abba ourselves!

"In addition to serving coffee and employing people—both of which image forth his work of provision—we also bear God's image in our work through hospitality. "

TGC posted an interview with this couple surrounding their vision and kingdom-mission in the work they do. 

Read the interview and click over to their website to catch the feel for their cafés! 

This cafe loving gal wishes it wasn't such a long drive to TX.

Other than the Irish origin of my name, I have very little tie to the country, but you would think I do - the way I love Celtic music and legend.

This beautiful prayer is a delicious taste of the way worship was strung out in heart-stirring words by Celtic style and soul. 

A bold proclaimer of gospel grace quotes a bold proclaimer of God's gospel grace... Not unfamiliar words perhaps, but it's a soul-rocking grace. Rest heart and mind on this. Just soak it in. Check your anchor's hold on this scandalous true thing. 

And closing with what just might be my favorite link this week. 

An absolute feast of glory bright captured on film by the talents of human skill; and yet indescribable; viewed best with eyes of the soul. 

Look at each picture through the lens of death....the glory seen only possible because death works door of new life to unfold. 
Think on your death to self, in grief, in wound, in loss, and the new life unfolding, 
the glory bright only in that process! 

Be struck with glory, feasted full on grace, 

and moved in the power of mercy, Grace-friends.

Monday approaches with the bright of new and full.

And we are held, always-welcomed.

Sabbath Soul Words

For the people who gather

Identified by Christ

Found and finding in Him. 

Regardless of circumstance strong

A truth trumping reality draws...

For the knowing and moving faith. 

The bedrock assurance that 

His ability to give far exceeds 

My ability to receive. 

For the living and being 

Defined by glory big. 

Dear Friday {{a day for counting}}9•26•14

Dear Friday...

As your title, mere words, take shape here on my screen, and in closer places, across my heart,
I wonder anew at Abba's faithfulness. 
The God of all comfort who has firmly held my soul and marvelously revealed Himself 
in each of the days which have pounded themselves out since you were last welcomed in this place. 

It's a slow-burning glory when God awakens new light in a soul.
An unfolding to reach up and over, curling shafts of flaming color around the dark variances of a horizon's view.  This dawn of illuminating fire. 
Light penetrating, absorbing, transforming familiar and mundane outlines into the elements of extreme majesty. 
This light shed abroad....always most glorious just before it's full-rise. 
This love so extreme, always most beautiful in it's casting out of a soul's gray shadows.

Do I know the grace I hold? 
Can I really fathom the moving mercy which allows these fingers to type, 
this brain to craft letters into words, 
this soul to pour forth and express {albeit quite brokenly} the steadfast and never-forsaking love that floods each moment of my existence? 
Can I even imagine the glory I regularly taste and worship?
If I could, how would I find words to adequately express and reflect that which has ravished my heart and forever changed my name?
I can't.  There aren't, and yet I type.  
I greet you, Friday with your built-in call to identify, gather, and delight in the myriad treasures that have lined my path, filled my heart, hands, and soul...

Remembering:

~ The gray-puddled day when doors of expectation thudded shut and preparation appeared fruitless in it's effort.  
The day that my whispered prayers over a scrubbing toilet brush brought answers severe in mercy but perfectly matched to my need.  
A day that stripped down and exposed heart layers bare to the healing balm of Abba's gentle dealings.  
Faith built, Steadfast love resounding even as disappointment fell hot and wet from human eyes. 
The grace-sisters that chimed in with compassionate hope, 
the tender holding close of a husband's comforting lead, 
the soothe of Living Word reaching and meeting me with profound courage.  
All a soul-satisfying feast of grace that only the hard of the day could have supplied. 
On that day, I was asked a question of most beautiful rhetorical nature...

~ Recognition of Autumn's sure arrival in spotting two beautiful blue jays clad in their royal hues and busy at work in a nearbye fir tree. 
The profound consistency of the season's rhythms coupled with the never-tiring joy my soul reaps from welcoming each unique exposition of His glory revealed. 
His nature never waning, unchanging, always faithful, full of glory! 

~ The soul-rest reaped in slowing to lean into and feed on scripture with grace-sisters.
Though with individual backgrounds and struggle, finding an unwavering confidence and shared fellowship as the Seal upon our hearts links our minds around His truth together. The Bond of faith guaranteed is rich. 

~ The fun of littles.  Big brothers decked out in adventure gear leading their devoted damsel through the wiles of prairie exploring. 
Her proud report later revealing how their brotherly counsel ignited her first bush-side restroom attempt. 
True to adventure living, the experience was survived with minimal distress and minor exposure and only a slight wardrobe malfunction.
Giggles were fought as I exhorted the usefulness of this experience towards possible African mission trips {and exclusively so}. 

~ Setting out with girlie in tow to fill the empty spaces her Fall and Winter wardrobe held, only to receive lavish provision of sweet and pretty beyond what was needed. 
Helping her to see that she shares the same Beautifying Provider as do the most spectacular flowers in all of creation, and how much more does He care for her soul!!

~A friend's gentle sneak up to leave love on our front stoop, a bounty of fresh garden harvest just because she loves Jesus and He loves through her big. 

Grace undeserved delivered through the hands of my veggie-bearing grace-sister. 

~ Cheers filling the room as six loved ones eagerly bit into cupcakes to reveal....

......blue centers!!!
The Daddy, Momma, big brother and sisters all honoring us to share in precious moments of discovery.... a little boy child, planned in the perfect foreknowledge of Abba, now safely knit together in my dear sister's womb.... anticipated and eagerly awaited by so many who pray now for his salvation and Kingdom-call.
How deep is Abba's love for people that He continues to create and send more of them into this place for us to love, serve and meet with the gospel!!!

Reading:

"Proof Texts" {an appendix found in the final pages of "Proof" which outlines scripture passages for each of Proof's profound exposition on Calvin's five points.}
I have taken one point each morning this week and meditated slowly through the passages, journaling prayerful response. Not typically a fan of the topical approach, I found this such an affirming avenue of communion with Abba. 
I've been like an excited 7yr old on her birthday who wants to hear again the story of the day she was born, pouring over the pictures and asking for the memories displayed in God's planning, resurrecting, outrageous, overcoming and forever grace to me!
{click image for details}

I mentioned this book last week, and do so again....
Every believer should read this book.
If you aren't a Calvanist {or like I was, aren't quite sure what all that means or entails and have left it to "the theologians" {hint: we're all theologians technically}}, you will be a theologian and quite possibly a Calvanist {but without the tulip} after reading chapter 7, "Living Proof"! 

Don't let my theological jargon lead you to believe that this book is anything but absolutely accessible and fun to read. The kind of fun where your heart gets stirred up with the gospel into a frothy whip of joyful worship. 

This book seriously starts out grand and only intensifies in displaying the intoxicating joy of irresistible grace! 

Savoring:

~The overnight changes as chloroform begins it's trunk-bound journey, leaving behind leaves bright with death's onset. Their hues intensify daily, tree-lines and fields coming alive in color even as creation prepares for it's Winter sleep. 

~ Comfort.  Rich, sweet, always-enough. More than enough and full.
Otherwise unknown except for the hard that makes it's way clear straight to the filling of my heart.

~ The cherry pie that a little golden-haired garden fairy left on our deck table... Her image-bearing so sweet in its nurturing creativity! 

Listening:

"Take My Hand" by Lindsay McCaul

I have absolutely loved discovering the music of Indelible Grace this week; 
a music ministry which sets the lyrics of the beautiful old hymns to vibrant new tunes.

If you enjoy this song, 

"arise my soul arise"

make sure to check out their other music as well.

Sandra is also a new artist to my playlist.

I love the way this music video portrays a slow-burning sunrise in highlight of the scriptural lyrics she is singing.

Planning: 

Oh I'm almost to burst over sharing this fun with you grace-friends in this place. 

(In)courage has gone live with an amazing new product! Wood. Pressed. Letters.

Wait until you see how they attach in the back giving you complete flexibility in how you display; hang a whole word with two nails, or connect to stand on your mantle/bookshelf.... 

The options are limitless! 

Planning and praying over a word for each child... 

Check it out here: String out words for your eyes and hearts. 

~Family Night. The Friday evenings that fall between our small group meetings have become reserved for intentional family time.The kids spend all of our dinner conversation last night discussing and planning for some cozy relaxation just us five.

I love to put their ideas on paper and then make them happen, adding my own little touches of surprise along the way.

Thinking:

On this:

And this:

And wanting this more than anything!

What about you dear Grace-friend in this place? 

How is the slow-burn of God's glory unfurling it'self across the horizon 

of your life and walk?

How can you identify, gather, and delight in the myriad treasures 

that have lined your path, filled your heart, hands, and soul...

Please type out some words here in this place, 

a comment of testimony to at least one grace you are stewarding today... 

Know my heart's welcome to hear from your's!