A time to Enjoy the Weekend...

This weekend holds sentiment as I see the fruition of her dreams. Her prayers that lifted from tongue to heaven. Answered.

To walk the aisle in white.

To capture the moment his eyes meet hers for the first time and he pauses to catch his breath. Holds air in his lungs for those sacred seconds. The ones that will hold memory and story of that divine day.

To speak of love, commitment, and vows.

To stand the test of time.

The covenant. The two-become-one.

The I do.

My hope is that your weekend too will be refined in the manifestation of dreams come true.

What ever dream it is you hold gently in your heart, may the passion never die. May it too stand the test of time until you see the glory of it's fruition. Tucked away until breath is released into it. Until it becomes life.

My Suggestion ~ Enjoy Celebrating! Engage in festivities that make you heart hold memories or rekindle those from past years. Let the extravagance be seen in small detail compelling you to rejoice. Recall those moments that took your breath, paused time.

Celebrate LIFE. Yours. It is a gift. Everyday.

Unwrap the blessings this weekend.

A time to Face the Illusion...

{Photo Credit}

It has fallen on me and I can't escape it.

I can't control it.

Hot temperatures rising. Chills setting in pores.

I shake. Layer the linens. Moisten cold cloths to rest upon forehead.

Dizzy spells. Foggy thoughts. Unable to process.

I do not like this. Not one bit.

No one wants to be ill.

Yesterday I read wise words about control.

Something I often think I have.

When the truth is, I don't.

Sometimes all it takes is sickness to wrap me in it's grip to realize this.

I cannot control the time line these ailments will last.

And although I can take healthy steps to be rid of the aches and pains, ultimately I have to let it ride out. No amount of vitamins, herbal teas, or other natural remedies will cure what the body will naturally heal by His word. His breath that orchestrates the wonder.

I am not in control.

Pete Wilson in his book Plan B puts it this way "The greatest of all illusions is the illusion of control."

Control is an illusion. This I agree with. This I am learning.

My option in the matter is my attitude about it.

How I'll handle it. What I'll make of it. How I can learn from it.

So today in the haze of my words, I leave this with you.... to ponder.

Have you fallen for the illusion of Control?

A time to Face your Fears...

She is my hero.

Born with a freedom and desire to tackle all that life puts in her path. She doesn't have many limits and I love that about her. She has one specific trait however, that stands above the rest... she is willing to face fear. Look it straight in the eyes and have victory over it.

She will monkey bar across metal slats or swinging rings until she gets it. Faithful to accomplish. She loves whirling down slides that send her off with speed. To taste adrenaline. She climbs the tallest of play structures and rock formations just to say she did. She is one who loves the journey. The view from the top.

This July she faced fear again. We were on holidays. Taking in the experience of heritage and carnival rides. Eating cinnamon buns for lunch and making memories on the road.

On this particular day we were at a vintage fair spinning silly on rides. We made our way to the line up for BIG swings, the ones that ascend you into clouds and twirl you to flight. When it was our turn I hoisted her up and strapped her in the light oak seat. When our gaze met, I saw her shaking. Afraid of the height and speed. The unknown. Her quivering of lips opened her eyes to tears. "I can't do it, Mama."

I lifted her out and carried her off the ride before they had begun. Her legs straddled my waist and her little arms hung tight. "I believe you can do this, baby girl."

I calmed her pulsing body with a gentle squeeze and whispered why we need not be afraid. I wiped her tears and continued to hug away the jitters.

We strolled along in our afternoon filled with other wild adventure. The Bumper Whip, The Carousel, The Caterpillar, The Ferris Wheel. We searched glass jars of old-fashioned candy and tried our luck at the win-this-giant-stuffed-bear booth. That's when I felt her grab my hand. "I'm ready now" she spoke over the crowd. We parted through people gathered in crooked lines and made our way to those antique swings.

I looked at her bravery and marvelled. Facing her fear she climb in, strapped down and white-knuckled the chains that held her in. She kept her face forward and stiff. Eventually she looked at me, terror in her eyes. She wasn't doing this because she overcame her fear, she was facing it... head on. Scared and shaking with fright.

I sat next to her. Holding in my tears. Witnessing courage in your daughter is an honour.

A marvelous gift. My hero.

I often run away from the very things that make me afraid. I cower. Allowing fear to control me. Rarely squeezing a hand to say "I'm ready now". I shy from facing it head on. I walk away.

Giving it victory over me.

As the swing lifted elevating us into blue skys, I saw it didn't take long for her tension to release into the wind. "It feels like I'm flying, Mama."

"I know. Isn't it great? Close your eyes and really feel it."

With my own eyes softly closed to the view, all I could hear was pure glee coming from her chest.

When the ride ended, excitement erupted. Victory was hers. She did it.

"You know why I could ride that swing?" she asked me. "... because you said Jesus is always with me. You said that."

I know I said that.

I wanted to bring ease to her trembles. Peace in her time of distress.

I envy her faith.

Child-like faith.

Face-your-fear faith to feel-like-your-flying faith.

I can't help but wonder how much I've missed out on because I let unbelief rule.

How many opportunities God had placed before me to soar in the shelter of His wings, but instead I run intimidated by circumstances.

Afraid of falling. Not seeing the gift of flying. I hide. Squirm in defeat.

Through her I can see that fear is a place God makes himself known. When He has plans far beyond comprehension. Fear is often present when God wants to do something with you and in you. In the midst of reluctance and apprehensions, He is there.

Waiting to show you victory in Him.

The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged."

(Deuteronomy 31:8)

Christ gives me the strength to face anything. (Philippians 4:13)

Does fear ever hold you back?

A time to Recover...

There is a vast difference between taking rest and being forced to.

I woke up sick. This was not my intention.

Scratchy throat accompanied with a nagging cough.

With countless yawns, achy muscles and a voice with a hint of squeak, I felt the surfacing plague the night before. I knew my tank was low.

I had no choice but to say "no" to the unimportant things that beckon me. The small things that take time and energy I don't have. Today.

I was forced into isolation. Tucked back into the dark curtain-drawn room to find a few more hours of sleep.

When it comes to rest, I'd rather sing to the melody of books laid open with lively pages. Fields of splendor in unhindered plans. Feet planting steps in the direction of heart callings. Dreaming and living out dreams. Afternoons of sun shining full. Pitchers ready to pour. Awaited moments of peace and resurgence.

There is no grandeur when pushed back between sheets nestled in with kleenex and fatigue.

I would have rather spent time within those buoyant pages bringing weariness cheer. To take walks along paths of reflection, seeking out the multitude of graces in the journey. Excitement for the duration of solitude you plan for refreshing.

But He is showing me the blessings behind the lethargic limbs, the piercing headache. Seeing the hands that take care of me. Snuggling me deep into recovery.

I wish it wouldn't have taken this for me to reside in His arms today. But it did.

A somewhat forced confirmation. For needed rest.

Wrapped warm under comforters of love. Care. Sweet relief.

I thank God for the beauty in this day. Another cure for this heart. His heart.

I will unwrap and take hold of whatever this day may bring... for I know He is holding me, mending me in His arms.

A time to Shift...

I've been feeling the nudge. Gentle. Consistant.

Not wanting to live life oblivious to the grace upon grace that overflows.

So I search. Watch details. Linger over the common.

Finding the extraordinary in everyday.

Shifting paradigms to become a hunter. A seeker.

Of joy and gifts and heaven touching down.

I'm joining a community of gratitude. Being observant while I scratch noted moments on blank pages.

Finding the treasures that await when eyes open heart to see beauty, bounty, blessing.

And so it begins with this list....

1. Laughter rising in backyards

2. God's weaving in all things

3. Iced beverages on hot days

4. Messy little faces after hours in sand

5. Early rising to lace up and run with the morning

6. Daughter's tender voice leaving love messages on voice mail

7. BBQ Steak for lunch

8. Eyes of concern for the broken

9. Earthly fragrances of Sandalwood

10. His GRACE which is enough

To be continued...

Will you join me in finding your own gifts today?

A time to Enjoy the Weekend...

Rainy summer days call for cookies in the oven. A home that wafts of chocolate scents and Grandma's kitchen.

Hot summer days call for fresh peach kisses. Lips smacked cool with mixed berries and cream.

Whatever the weather bestows upon you this weekend... remember it will be what you make it.

So make it SWEET!

My Suggestion ~ Enjoy the flavours of July! Watermelon smiles dripping of essence. Candy floss twirled round in heat. Cool lemonade filled with sliced tang and crushed ice. Apples candied red resting on sticks. Stacked ice cream flavours nestled with bananas and roasted nuts.

Sweet treats invade summer days {regardless of sun or rain}.

I welcome their delight. You should too.

What is your favourite July indulgence?

A time to Practice the Art...

This week is different from last. They always are. Days never replicate the same things twice. Moments perhaps, but entire days... never.

Last week I saw the sign. To stop.

This week I've been practicing my creativity in the art of slowing down.

A discipline for me.

So I've been grabbing my imaginary paintbrush and stroking life at a different speed.

Taking distant runs with scenic routes, allowing my eyes to actually see my surroundings and not simply pass by them. To breathe in the beauty of the moment with a heart of thanksgiving.

I've rested in long baths instead of short showers allowing my skin to wrinkle in the warmth. Finding peace in the extra soaking. The cleansing.

I've sat to read wisdom. Lingering over pages of wealth. His words worthy of all my time. Finding solitude in the quiet. Healing with bread.

I've even welcomed help when offered. Unwrapping these delightful gifts of time from hands that want to bless.

And although I've been slowing down physically, there is one thing I have noticed... My heart and mind still race wild. While I can stop jotting "to-do's" on paper, lists will still run crazy in my head. My heart still pondering and wondering of future happenings. Thinking. Dreaming. Questioning. Believing.

I'm wondering how one slows the heart down? How one takes a break from the fast-pace mind? Or if it's even possible?

Is this another art in discipline that will require I sculpt with precise pressure and movement? Removing what is unnecessary? Using what is mouldable?

To create a life of artistry. One that is surrendered to the Master Creator and His divine work.

Slowing down the relentless. Finding stillness within the fields of expression. Simplifying the frenzy into meditation. It all comes with practice. To still long enough and listen carefully. That over the swirls of the mind and heart you will hear His voice speaking. Your spirit rising above the noise to commune leaving the silent ruckus in the distance.

Art is in practicing the pace. Acquiring the skill.

Do you find it hard to still? To slow? To stop?

A time to Know "the One"...

She strolled up to me, shyness in her eyes and a coy smile upon her face. She is suppose to be sleeping. Instead she is standing before me. Nightgown to her knees. Hints of rose on her cheeks.

My almost 10 year old daughter already knows that romance dwells in the feminine heart. I can see the start of her pondering. It is clothed in questions. For me.

Love intrigues her. As it should. We were made for love. To be loved and to love.

She has shared her dreams of a family and to be a good wife. I've listened to her share the precious details of what she hopes her future is. To serve God. To love a man. To be loved in return. To share in the vows. To walk down an asile in white. To teach and be taught. To extend their love. To have children. Three. Two boys and a girl. To gain my cooking skills. To laugh. To travel. To be all that God created her to be. To live full. To love much. To be real. To dream and never stop dreaming.

She has opened herself to me. This home of ours is a place to share. It all.

My precious girl in whom I see beauty and hope. In her, I see future.

"Please Mom, tell me who she chooses?" I have no idea what she is asking me. She continues on "In the movie The Notebook. Which boy does she choose?"

"How do you know there is a choice?" I ask her, knowing she has never viewed this movie before.

"I've been watching the previews when they show up on other movies. I just need to know, Mom." I can see that this has really sparked something in her. She often asks me, once she is older and dating, how will she know who is "the one". What if she makes a mistake.

"Can I just watch the movie?" she asked me. "Ummm, NO." I am quick to answer.

"How come?" she wonders.

"Well, because there are some pretty intimate scenes in that movie. You aren't of the age where you are ready to see that." I give her my reasons which seem more then legitimate to me but I am unsure of how she will respond.

"You mean like kissing? Where they wrap themselves around each other?" more questions escape from this girl of mine.

"Yep, something like that." I tell her.

She agrees she isn't ready and happily trots back to bed. I'm almost certain she is still in wonder of Allies' decision. Dreaming of her life as a mother and wife someday, she has questioned many things. Like how she will pay the bills. Where will she live. How long will she teach before getting married. How many children will she actually have. What if she has twins.

I could go on.

The questions of uncertainty flood her exuberant mind.

I personally think she loves to dream about her hearts desires and the future that may hold them. Don't we all?

The next morning she woke as her bright and cheery self. Our day beginning like any other. Filled with morning noises. Filled with questions. There are always questions here.

"Mom, do you have intimate scenes?" she asks completely straight faced, still thinking of the previous evening conversation. Lingering in thoughts.

I chuckled good.

Oh sweet girl, one day you'll know. One day I'll share with you.

Until then, I will embrace your questions and your young tender heart that burns for love.

Showing you that there is "One". That will. And does. Love you. Like no one else can.

And all your answers are in Him!

A time to be Joyful...

Just because times are difficult doesn't mean you lack joy or need to live without it.

We can choose it.

Especially us women who link our emotions to everything. It's kind of who we are, right?

Even good things can wear us out emotionally to the point where we feel exhausted. Tired. Anything with emotional intensity can send us to a place of worn-out oblivion... pull the covers up, I'm flat-out-beat.

God's work in my heart feels like a complete shredding of old, to make room for new. It is a process that is not easy and filled with the weeping of tears but it is good. Very good.

I am not afraid of what He is doing. I'm not worried.

I have faith that what is to come will be outstandingly lush, lavished in His love for me. He is jealous over my heart which belongs to Him. First.

His non-stop pursuing. His attentive ways search me and know me.

This time of peeling and exposing is dripping with joy. Whispered joy that hums from my heart and flows from my spirit.

Too often we shy away from the pain of it all... but God is revealing His JOY to me in this gutting, crushing, painful progression.

Have we forgotten that Jesus endured the cross set before Him with JOY, yet he wept in the garden asking if the cup of redemption could pass over Him?

Ultimately Jesus wanted to do the will of the Father. He put aside His own wishes while His tears mixed with dirt and His knees cradled in the earth. Blood sweat on brow, He knew the pain that was coming to Him and He looked at the cross with joy. Knowing the plan of redemption for those He loved was through the blood spilt cross.

His death for our life.

We can have joy in the midst of despair. It isn't one over the other.

We can choose JOY through the pain.

Joy belongs to the LORD and we belong to Him.

I want to endure with joy this heart-over-haul, knowing He has even greater things plan for this girl of His.

In Him is my redemption. All of it.

I want to put aside my agenda and walk in His plans. Trusting. Believing.

With Joy.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

(Romans 12:1-3)

"Abba, Father," he (Jesus) said, "everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will."

(Mark 14:36)

Are you needing JOY today?

A time to Be Exposed...

Photo Credit

Peeled back and exposed. That's me!

There is no hiding it's the journey I'm on.

Vulnerable to share the short-comings, the successes, the failures, the ugly, the redeemed, the beauty, the hurt... all of it.

I'm living uncovered.

Last week wouldn't escape me, I tried.

There was no running this time.

It hounded. Hunted me down.

I was facing it head on.

And you {my readers} read it... Here and Here and Here.

You witnessed RAWNESS and it touched sometime deep.

Private messages and emails flooded my inbox.

As I sit at my desk {almost daily} punching letters on white keys, transferring heart into words, I'm realizing more and more they are YOURS.

The hurt ~ YOURS.

The pain ~ YOURS.

The dream ~ YOURS.

The joy ~ YOURS.

The wounds ~ YOURS.

The healing ~ YOURS.

These words are YOURS.

And MINE.

You are not alone.

I hear you.

Stuggles, battles, and wars are common. They shouldn't be hidden.

There is power in numbers. Strength in an army.

Alleviation in compassionate familiarity.

There is ALWAYS Grace!

As I took the running jump to plunge full into the depths, laying my emotion and heart on these pages... I have the privilege of listening to the scripted spoken sounds that return to me. From you.

Lyrical understanding. Celebratory cries.

That someone feels the same and has the written representation to place it on screen.

God is waking the dead inside of us all ~ to LIFE.

To behold His glory in weaving together the common threads of His people who are desperate for others to comprehend their aches and passions for injustice.

Can I just say... I love you! I DO.

It is an honour to be one of the many to relate and understand you.

To inspire and bring to light that which needs a voice.

I'm humbled you feel this is a safe place for you.

Consider it home.

Peeled back and exposed... He brings forth the fruit.

Layer by layer His glory revealed.

The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.

(Galatians 5:22,23)

Partake, my friends!

A time to Enjoy the Weekend...

Weekends are like balm to the soul.

A dwelling place where we can simply fall ~ like love ~ into His arms.
To be caught in His rest. Held with relief and delight.

Finding joy in the present for the future hope of this too being redeemed.

Tiredness transitioning into freedom.

To honestly BE.

Letting these days soothe over to bring solace.

Releasing the ointment of a quiet refreshing.

Sacred presence filling the emptiness like a thick fog that expands the lungs.

Breathing heavy and deep the metamorphosis into wholeness.

My Suggestion ~ Enjoy the Down-Time!!! Really take hold of the unscheduled calm to relax and rejuvenate yourself.

In the quiet. In the sun.

Sense the peace which flows ever so gently. Even if only captured minutes, let them be medicine for your ache. Your hurt.

Much Love & Sweet Grace to YOU!

Picture Credit

A time to Learn My Lesson...

These days of July have carried some weight and I feel heavy.

My heart breaks under the pressure of failures, responsibilities, and the hurt of it all.

Shattered pieces scattered.

Carrying a mantel of capability and strength, being the one who holds it together, striving and rarely resting is a recipe for burn-out.

I'm nearly there. I feel it.

The breaking point where I reach out for someone to take care of me.

Is that so bad?

I'm tired and limited, this week. I feel as though I don't have much at all to give. Nothing, really. But I give what I have in hopes of it being enough.

Rushing around the commitments, household tasks and endless other "needs", all the while I'm calling out under the weight. Help.

Days when I want to surrender before my feet hit the floor and body swivels to start. I'd rather pull-up over my head the sheets that keep me safe in that moment. The coverlet that shadows me from the beaconing, the constant calling to pour myself out. Until I'm dry.

Living as a sacrifice for others wants. Called to live for Him.
I'm in need of safety. Comfort. Refuge.

Could it be that God is allowing me to feel the weakness of me? To finally see that I can't do this on my own? That I wasn't meant to.

Is it okay to switch up a role mid-game?

To not always be the care-giver but a care-receiver too?

I'm learning something I wouldn't otherwise understand if I wasn't living it out. Isn't that how it usually goes?

Feeling the raw emotion of it. The salty tears that flow from defeat.

This end-of-me-road. Exhausted in my human efforts.

This is my default. I know better.

There comes a point where you just can't do it anymore. Living for everyone else without stopping to have a refreshing for your soul.

There is only so much a pitcher can pour out before it's emptied. In need of refilling.

This reaching out for a tending to my heart, a giving to my thirsty soul ~ is me... in need.

I've let pride rule for too long. Pride tells me I got this. I can handle it. I'm fine. I don't need help. I can do it on my own.

Truth is... I don't want to do it all or appear that I can.

Rescue me and deliver me in your righteousness;
turn your ear to me and save me. (Psalm 71:2)

I long to dwell in your tent forever
and take refuge in the shelter of your wings. (Psalm 61:4)

A time to be Teachable...

I desire a teachable Spirit.

One that is not afraid of falling low in the hush of discipline. One that will let fire burn and refine and leave all that is gold.

A Spirit that walks in love.

L. O. V. E. ~ LOVE!

There is nothing greater then love.

Nothing!

If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing. If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.

(1 Corinthians 13:1-3 The Message)

Bankrupt without love.

I wish it to flow. Free.

To bow out from me unto Thee.

To love in a way of vast measure. Pure. Unhindered.

I want to love. Real and Deep.

For it to spill out reaching the ground in which you stand and dwell. To leak a happiness and joy that is profound because it comes from the proverbial hand of God and I am His vessel.

I desire to be a teachable Spirit who knows how to love.

In truth. In life. In Him.

A time to See the Signs...

My friend and I had just finished sipping Chai Latte's over beautiful words.

Encouragement rose up with the steam of milk and spice.

The sharing of hearts between women is truly an amazing gift. Especially when it's robed in gracious non-condemning emotion. Authenticity. When the same roads have been travelled and understanding is not faked but oh-so-real.

As we drove away from the coffee house, we still shared with passion.

Squeezing into these last minutes of time every drop we could pour out.

We just happened to be rolling up to a 4-way when she looked at me and said "I just want God to give me a clear sign". As my foot pressed on the brake, I pointed to the STOP sign cemented in the ground. "There's a sign for ya" I said. Half jokingly. Half serious. Partly for me.

Once I dropped her off at her destination, we said our good-bye's and I continued to think of that metal hexagon painted red.

STOP.

How often do I roll up to a STOP sign and only pause telling myself it's good enough as I slowly hault and glide on through. A mere pause that is convincing as a stop. Concluding it's adequacy in timing as I continue on my way.

I have a hard time coming to a complete STOP.

The thing about STOP signs is they appear and are placed at very important intersections. They are there for our safety. Our well-being. Yet, I only pause.

As we journey through the weeks, months and years, we often come to interceding crossroads. Points along the road where junctions, difficult decisions and life-altering changes beckon our attention.

God has a way of interjecting big ol' STOP signs. A place where He wants more then a pause. More then a roll through. More then a glance in each direction so we can quickly move on.

He want us to STOP. Look. Listen. To not be hurried. Rushed. Anxious.

He desires we take a FULL STOP. Not a half stop, a roll stop, a paused stop.

A.

Full.

Stop.

A STOP which requires we wait. On Him.

Until we have clarity. His leading of "Yes, now GO".

Too often I see the fork in the road and don't really take the precautionary measures in which I should. STOP signs are common, I know how they work and I feel so comfortable that I slowly flow past. I question which direction I should take before turning, but too often then not, I only pause.

I take in what I need to, that which my eyes can see in a glimpse. That which my heart can fathom. And I roll on until the next STOP in which I'll briefly mute, quiet my soul, never really stopping what comes natural.

Never. Really. Stopping.

Upon returning home filled with much to think about, my friend sent me a message through typed word, a confirmation of the sign she was needing "Yup... STOP... that is God's word for me!"

... and me too, sweet friend!

So, as I STOP the pushing or forcing through... I'll simply wait. Wait for the road to clear and the direction to GO forward from here. I'm learning for my hearts healing, I must STOP.

What that looks like, I'm not sure... What I do know is... I am willing.

Are you in need of a sign? A confirmation?

A time to Let Go of the Bar...

I'm exhausted!

Life has this way of draining every morsel of energy from you. It can suffocate, if you let it.

I've let it.

I'm at fault.

My visions of lazy summer days are fleeting and floating away in the whirling winds that make it hard to breathe. My life is spun out, driven and over done. My calendar is bursting with "needs" and I try to meet them, each and every one. Tiny dated squares jammed full with ink. Meanwhile I'm worn out, torn up and spinning radically.

I'm drained!

I'm continually glancing at the clock, the hours passing in seconds as I feel I'm running out of time to play with my children because the meals, camp schedules, laundry, ministry, and other piles are whipping me to shreds. I spot unread pages of bread, the living word calling me. By dusk all I can muster up is scraps off the very floor in which I ran all day. The floor in which I now want to crash. Lay down. Sleep.

I'm tired!

In the midst of my cry, my arms held high, I stand emptied. Knowing I need to slow it down. I need to eat that which will fill me with abundance, those living words. Knowing I need His help to take refuge. To find the place of letting go. To release my clenching fingers from the bar in which I set out for myself. To be. And do. It all.

Am I ready to depart from my ways and take refuge?

Can I trust Him if I let go?

That He will release the pressure of standards I set on myself, so I won't feel like I'm failing.

That He will fill me with all courage and bravery to rest, release, recuperate.

That He will pour out an unfailing love and grace for me to not have to "be".

That He will take care of it. All of it. And sustain me in Him.

What do I truly want to hold on to?

My ways? Or His?

The LORD is a refuge for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble.

(Psalm 9:9)

As for God, his way is perfect; the word of the LORD is flawless. He is a shield for all who take refuge in him.

(Psalm 18:30)

A time to Enjoy the Weekend...

As you walk forward into these weekend days of magic and recalling, may your hours be filled with joy and your evenings with reflection.

Your wanderings graceful, minutes paused in memories returning.

Finding those glimpses of what makes your heart beat. Passion captured.

Breath held and exhaled slow in the linger of seeing treasure. Spotting promise.

My suggestion ~ Enjoy time with Friends!

Walking trails of sharing and laughter. Afternoon teas with moments of reconnecting. Celebrating life over the flames of roasting marshmallows filled with chocolate. Evening strolls through the rows of words and wisdom.

Be blessed, my friends...

A time to Call on His name...

Two weeks ago, like any Thursday evening, this one started out the same. 11:30pm I slid my body under the light summer quilt and mocha sheets, laid my head to feathers and fell asleep to the murmur of words running through my mind.

I woke at 12:26am to husband closing opened windows. Sheltering us from the gusty winds howling and the curtains that flapped in the breeze.
Dreams ceased while words began to run wild again. I stared at the ceiling.

The green glow of 1:10am shone on my alarm clock as I heard the call of a frightened girl for her Daddy. In need of comfort on this particular night. Scared of monsters hiding in closets or curled up under loft beds. In need of her Dad to ward off these critters that steal security.

Blanketed in warmth I listened to the conversation of child and Father while spying the vanishing of fear with a returning sense of safety in her heart.

Husband returns to his restless slumber.

I close eyes pretending to sleep. Hoping the mimic of actions will entice my body to drift into the land of rest.

It doesn't.

Littlest beauty calls out again. I roll to see 2:23am. She is still worried and now complaining of tummy aches, I take my turn to bring calm.

I rub her back and listen to her concerns of scary hairy things crouching in corners. We pray for peace & protection. All seems well.

Back in bed I toss and turn. Flinging leg up. Stretching leg down. Flopping like a fish from stomach to back, I wonder if I am the one in need of calling out, in search of comfort and solace.

3:00am. My ears hear heaving in the bathroom. I spring up, feet hitting the floor with gusto as I run down the hall. I see her tiny frame hugging the toilet and I squat down to wipe her face and smooth out her hair.

I'd stay awake all night if I had to bring this little one relief.

To let her know she is dearly loved and not alone.

Once eased and clean, I snuggle her into a impromptu bed on the floor made of fleece blankets and quilted pillows. An emergency "bucket" parked next to her.

"I'm just down the hall, Baby Girl. Lay down your head and get some rest".

I shuffle my feet back to bed with her knowing full-well if she calls, I'll come.

3:42am. Eyes wide open, I lay.

Thinking. Dreaming. Hoping. Praying.

Comforted in knowing that I too am not alone in times of need. Distress.

I have a Father who is always there. In times of restlessness. In times of sickness.

All hours of the day. Or night.

When I feel alone and weary, tired and tested, I can call on His name "Abba, Father".

With the same heart-felt gusto of protection... He comes. Bringing a hush of peace.
Grace upon grace.

With the whispering of His words over me, I relax and find my comfort.

It's here in this place of refuge. In my cry for Him.

The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.

(Deuteronomy 31:8)

A time to Say YES...

All too often the word forms in my mouth and rolls off my tongue, sometimes before I can catch it and tuck it back where it belongs.

"NO".

I say NO too quickly, too habitually, too frequent, and too much.

Which means I rarely say the word that has the ability to tumble out joy and exhale life.

I seldom say "YES".

NO keeps things as they are. Living in the safety of the known and rarely experiencing the exhilaration of the the unknown. NO keeps you from taking the leap, whatever it may be.

NO takes away the beauty of living fully and trusting wholly. NO steals the dream.

I say NO to them, my little beauties. NO to the messy crafts that take more time to clean up then to create. NO to staying up late. NO to the unnecessary change in outfits {for the third time that day}. NO to the sand filled shoes that want to prance their way through the back door before being emptied. NO to the soda pop. NO to the untidy rooms that are simple evidences of an afternoon played hard.

I say NO to myself too. NO when I deny the aspiration. NO to the time of rest and restoration. NO to the person who challenges me because it brings out my insecurities. NO when I see the dust that peacefully lays. NO to the crumbs under my feet that show children roam with full bellies. NO to stopping the busying hands to find healing in the quiet. NO to the moving forward so I can stay in the familiar. NO to the risk.

I say NO.

A. lot.

But I want to be a woman who can move past fear and say YES!

YES to the dirty, if it means a day abounding in memory making and squeals of joy. YES to stopping and just being. Simply being. Breathing. YES to being challenged, gutted, pruned, and broken, for in it there is blessing upon blessing. YES to more playing and less watching. YES to prayer and soaking the healing. YES to dream believing. YES to walking in wisdom with contingency knowing HE is faithful and sovereign over all my YESes, even if they are messes.

When the answers to questions build in the silence, before a sound may escape my lips, I want my heart to confidently say NO to being fearful and YES to overcoming.

Letting my nature of NOs turn to YESes. Embarking breakthrough with two mere words that hold much return. I can be that woman who moves past fear.

YES I can!

Which one of these simple words is most often in your mouth?

A time for Binding up...

{we heart it}

Twice in one week I've been questioned.

"Manda, do you think you busy yourself so that you don't need to engage?"

Both times it caught me off guard but I shrugged it off like a loosely placed blanket on my shoulders. Refusing to claim it as my own as though it was no part of me.

What? I don't engage? What would give them such an idea?

I spend most of my time being intentional.

I'm engaging people. All. The. Time.

Trying my best to live out transparency and community.

I sit in fellowship with others sharing remembrances and alters of His goodness.

Together we battle over our hearts and the wounds that hurt fierce. We cry with pain spilt tears and compassion for those aching in bondage as we remember and walk through our own. We weep over our personal sanctification process from deep sin. We sing out heavenly praise with angels in victory. We rejoice with those who run to freedom, where there is no condemnation but an abundance of grace. We lift prayers for healing & intimate restoration, for the real suffering that too many keep secret. We gather together to edify, unify, and be wrapped in His love.

I engage.

These two that question me, love me greatly.

There has to be weight in what they are asking me. Are they seeing something I can't?.

After days of crying out and reflecting upon this question I realize the truth is I engage others, meanwhile I want to hide from myself.

That's it!

When we are in the presence of God, removed from distractions, we are able to hear him more clearly. Without foggy comprehension. Clouded judgement. Hazy actions.

It's not wrong, my time spent with others. My intentions in embracing the broken. In uplifting the downcast. In praying for the weak. It helps mend certain areas of my own ache when I serve those hurting the same. But the question is, is it keeping me from fully engaging a complete restoration for my penetrating wounds. My own heart over-haul.

There comes a point when I feel I can no longer do the work or handle the pain of it all.

I don't have what it takes. I'm done. Tired.

In need of rest but instead I busy.

Unengaged out of fear.

It's true!

God is wanting to take me away to a quiet place and restore my soul.

Just as He did with David.

The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,

he restores my soul.
He guides me in paths of righteousness
for his name's sake.

Even though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD
forever. (Psalm 23)

My choice, is to go there. To unplug, slow down, take a break, and receive the invitation to go aside with Him. To lay down in those green pastures of healing.

Raw emotions arise in the intimate undisturbed time. It can be frightening and at the same time liberating. Salty tears break barriers. The weeping on fallen knees. Mourning over that which brings a sense of being fully alive.

It is time I find my safety in Jesus, so He can stop the mishandling. To stop me from huddling around distractions and bring me into a place of assurance. Binding up my brokenness, bringing all the shattered pieces back together into one whole.

Complete in Him.

This crushing, this sanctification, this healing, will be a time of growth by His grace and mercy.

This is the blanket I'll keep tightly wrapped around my shoulders. Draped in the love and forgiveness I need. I'll own it and walk in it, feeling the warmth of God's arms sheltering me.

Are there things that need binding up in your life?

A time to Delight in the Simple...

For the past several days our family has been on the move, paving memory lanes for the next generation. Traveling from our Northern Alberta roots to head south on vacation with a quick family reunion sandwiched in the middle.

It’s been an adventure.

Having our two daughters in confined spaces for long hours is a mixture of both fun-loving moments and natural-disasters.

On the brink of volcanic emotional ruptures or tattling, I often send myself in for their relief and some damage control.

I also see them walk out grace and kindness. In those times I witness true sisterly-love bonding between bucket seats in the back.

We’ve wandered through small farming communities, big cities with glittering lights, and the vast land of “no where”. Experiencing the enlightenment through the eyes of children, I’ve been able to recall my own childhood joys when summer would welcome me in July.

Their eyes see the delight in simple treasures.

Clouds fluffy white in a backdrop of blue, shaped as pirates and bunnies. Farm fragrances expand lungs that are uncommon to city girls and they love this unfamiliar. Dusty gravel roads fill smiles with grit and they still don’t stop the stories, the joy that's worn on the cheeks.

They share spread wide open with passion.

Animation is constant. Big theatrical movements, loud contagious laughter, dancing during dinner, and dramatic story telling. I’m finding rich worth in the small(er) voices full of new exploration and excitement.

Children have a way of seeing things in a different light. Often brighter. Positive light.

Beauty in the expanse but also the needed sibling wrestling in the tight close-knit placing to bring about compassion and understanding. They get this.

I sit dreaming of the simplistic little treasures they value. Hold dear.

The seldom experiences that make these trips worthy of telling their neighborhood friends.

Twirly lollipops and purple water balloons fights. Cinnamon buns for lunch from the vintage bakery and ice cream everyday. Swimming pools full of cousins and the water slides that swirl them dizzy. Deep-fried pickles and “puppy chow” desserts. Surviving massive mosquito armies and counting up the casualties that didn’t make it. Itching all hours of the day as we heal from our war wounds, the memories of campfire, sparklers, and those pesky insects still fresh on our skin.

I’ve been moved by my little beauties to find joy in the simple summer experiences.

We have only a few days left of this summer road trip until it waves us on. So we’ll continue paving new memory lanes into their impressionable hearts. A place of remembrance they will go back to.

Those oh-so-sweet moments we tuck away until something sets the trigger and reels them back-in to take a stroll.

Summer vacations through the eyes of a child, no matter what the age, have a place within their heart. Full of simple delight.

Are you finding simple treasures down summer paths & memory lanes?

A time to Enjoy the Weekend...

We've been traveling for a couple days and as this weekend comes we are heading down south like the birds in winter.

Packed in tight, driving on the open road with the shining sun. Feelings of being a kid rise like the hot temperature steam off pavement.

Sunglasses and bandana's shield the brightness of morning light sneaking in through passenger windows.
Traveling down highways of childhood memories we are jammed full of stuffed animals for comfort, the smell of apple juice boxes, fresh cherries from fruit trucks, and tuckered out bodies from days of adventure and unhindered time lines.
These are some of the best days of summer vacation!
I do feel like a kid again.

My suggestion ~ Enjoy travel time! Destinations are the end goal but memories are made in the moments along the journey. Unwrap the gifts of everyday and trust for something remarkable.
Weekend blessings and Much Love!

A time to Celebrate our Country...

A concoction of celebration and joy mixed together with great food and fun is a wonderful way to spend the day. So today, we are doing just that.

We are celebrating.

Our country.
This land of glorious freedom.

Indulging in soft ice cream and mini donuts we will walk the ground of festivities. Watching parade floats toss candy to children in jubilee. Stroked with artistic face paints in the form of puppies or butterflies. Enjoying the entertainment of street performers with funny bones and hats laid out to catch coins of thanks. Spraying off mid-afternoon heat in water parks and resting in the shade. Snagging balloon animals to join our family in wanderings. With the grand finale of fireworks exploding high into the evening sky.

"Happy Birthday, Canada".

You are filled with majestic landscapes and breath-taking beauty... I feel privileged to live on your soil.