Cloudy Days

How is it Father,
that the spirit
is so easily bruised?
A harsh word,
a critical eye,
a meaning misconstrued;
the sun disappears
behind a leaden sky,
and nothing is
as it should be;
the inclination is
to wrap the heart
in self-protective shell
and take a vow
of solitude.

How is it Father,
that You will not
let us go?
Love gently, persistently
peels back the shell.
Truth slowly disperses
the clouds,
light making its
way into the
dark places;

And grace -
grace will sit
and wait.

Blessings,
Linda

He Knows

Remember when
 I was a little girl, Father
 and I knew it was just
You and me?
 I never doubted or questioned.
 I prayed; You listened.
 I walked small
 on this giant planet;
You saw me,
 clear through to my heart.

I twirled and danced
and days spun into years
Time took a toll
on the knowing.
Can You hear my
small voice among the millions
see my heart
when there are so many others
aching and clamoring
for attention?

And Father ( I feel
ashamed and foolish to ask),
when I step from this life
into my forever home,
will You find me
in the multiplied millions?
Will I sit at Your feet,
feel Your hand on my head,
spend time - just You and me?

In the hidden places of
a questioning heart,
He whispers words
known only to me,
gently caressing my head.

Blessings,
Linda

Joining my dear friend Emily at imperfect prose:

Good-by

I walked through the living room and into the bedroom, and it rolled over me like a gentle wave. I hardly recognized it for what it was. After all, here I was in the brand new home we had long prayed for. Everything  new and sparkly - from the stainless steel appliances to the window panes. There's a fireplace, a deep, white tub and hardwood floors - things I had only dreamed about before. The pictures are on the walls, books line the shelves and quilts cover the beds.

Yet there it was - a sadness born of homesickness for the old home. It took me by surprise. Surely I wasn't missing the worn old cabinets, the dated tile floor or the stained carpet in the bedroom. I had everything I had dreamed of right in front of me.

"I'm not feeling quite at home yet," I sheepishly admitted to my husband. "Neither am I," came the unexpected reply.

It isn't the things we are missing. We lived in the other house for twenty-eight years. It was a silent witness to the laughter and tears of a growing family and sheltered us as we walked through storms we thought we would never survive. It holds secrets only our individual hearts will ever know. And just when life seemed to settle into a quiet routine grandchildren burst into the rooms, and they filled with noise and life once again.

Slow tears come as I finally say good-by. Everything was such a hurried blur when we packed up and moved away from that dear home. I hardly had the chance to whisper thanks. Thanks for holding us so closely and loving us so well. Thank you for the gift of twenty-eight years of memories - precious moments, hard moments, growing moments.

Now we go about making this house a home.

Blessings,
Linda

Rivers in the Desert

"Do not call to mind the former things, or ponder things of the past. Behold, I will do something new, now it will spring forth; will you not be aware of it? I will even make a roadway in the wilderness, rivers in the desert."

Isaiah 43: 18,19

Joining with Sandy and Deidra this weekend to slow my heart and rest in His living Word.





Blessings,
Linda

Together We Sing

Time for Five-Minute Friday. Every Friday Lisa-Jo tickles our imagination with one word. We then write, unedited, for five minutes about that word.

Today's is: Together:

go - My husband and I belong to our church choir. It has been such a blessing to both of us. I should insert here that he is an amazing singer; I can carry a tune. We meet every Wednesday evening to practice. It is a precious time that seems much more like worship than working on music.

 We begin to sing and the room is filled with His presence. It is a miraculous thing. When we learn new music, our music minister has us practice parts. The sopranos sing their part, the altos, the tenors and the basses. They all sound good - those parts - but it isn't until we put them all together that the music becomes alive. There is such beauty and power in the blending of the different parts all working together to form a beautiful whole.

 I think that is what we, as the body of Christ, are intended to be - a beautiful combination of parts that come together to form one glorious, edifying whole. If just one is missing, it isn't quite the same. Something is lost. We need to "sing" together so that we can be all that Jesus intended us to be. When we all do our part, however insignificant we may feel it is, it comes together in one glorious whole.

stop

To be a part of Five-Minute Friday just head on over to Lisa-Jo's. You will love her.

Blessings, Linda

Loved

Loved

I read the story Father,
tears blurring the words
finding grace and love
and knowing it is true
that You really do
see me that way.

I've blown it again Father;
I'm fighting tears and shame
feeling it is true
for everyone else,
but not for me.
I am somehow not.

You gently lift my chin
collect the tears and
pour them into the bottle
etched with my name.
You look into my heart
with eyes that burn with love,
and somehow I know
it is true.

Blessings,
Linda

My Place

"God knows where you are, and He can get you to where He wants you to be."

He began his sermon with those words, and I knew it was an answer to the cry of my heart.

If life is divided into seasons, I am in the winter of my life. The nest is empty. My days look very different from the days when three children filled the rooms with noise and things and love. I don't have nearly the time I imagined I would - for the days seem to fill of their own accord. But I do have more hours to call my own.

I pray and look back and wonder if I've followed the course He set for me long before I drew my first breath. Did I find the place He created me to fill or did I somehow miss it? And what of this season? What is it I'm supposed to be doing? Don't let me miss it Lord...

To finish reading this devotional please join me at Laced With Grace on Wednesday. It would be such a blessing to have you meet me there.

Blessings,
Linda