A Letter to Me

Remember the way you rolled your eyes whenever your Mom said she still felt like a teenager in her heart? You shouldn't have done that. The day will come when you too will look in the mirror and wonder who that older lady is.

Setting that aside, there are a few really important things I want to say to you.

 Please stop trying so hard to be like everyone else. You know, the "everyone elses" who are so pretty and popular and never seem at a loss for the right words. I wish I could get you to see that skinny legs and curly hair are not the end of the world. The "flip"won't always be the most popular hairstyle.

 And feeling awkward and uncomfortable while everyone else has a great time at the party isn't the worst thing that can happen to you.

Another thing, don't try so hard to please everyone. I promise you, if you can get this one right you'll save yourself so much heartache. You won't be ruined forever if everyone doesn't think you're perfect. You're not, but neither is anyone else. It will be alright. You don't have to compromise who you are to fit in.

You might want to try to get your head out of the clouds - just a little anyway. It's lovely to dream but a dash of practical common sense is worth its weight in gold. You should take off the rose colored glasses occasionally. It might keep you from running hard into reality and getting them knocked off that nose you've never really liked. 

If there was only one thing I could tell you it would be - don't hold the gift lightly. I know there is hardly a time in your life you can remember not knowing Jesus. It is easy to take for granted the priceless treasure you hold when it has become so familiar. I'm afraid it will take a bit of living, a bit of stumbling around and even falling down, before you understand its full worth.

 In time you will see it for what it is and it will drive you to your knees in gratitude. All that teenage angst that followed you right into adulthood will begin to fall away. It's an on-going process, but you will learn to see who you are through His eyes. So much better than those rose colored glasses.

 Oh, and the happily ever after with the high school sweetheart? Well....it wasn't "happily ever after", but it is "ever after" made deeper and richer by all those things the little dreamer never saw coming.

Emily, whose 2nd book has just been released, has asked us to write letters to our teen-aged selves. That's because her book "Graceful" is written to teenage girls. Emily is a gifted writer. She has a heart for girls and a desire to share the message of grace. It changes lives.

also linking to my other Emily at imperfect prose

Blessings,
Linda

Waiting

Busy tapping keys these days. The word count grows (23,454 to be exact), and the minutes trickle into the past.

I am thinking about His presence, the way He never moves. Once invited to take up residence in a heart, He enters with a promise to stay - forever.

Some days He luxuriates in the space provided. More often He is jostled and pushed aside by a myriad of things demanding first place. He graciously accepts apologies.

He waits. He has brought a lovely bouquet to the table, set a place - and He waits. He has a great many things He would like to share, but He waits.

When the dust of activity settles and the clamor stills, He is there. Just the mention of His name - a whisper; He is there. He hasn't moved. I take my seat and marvel at His presence. He gently smiles and says, "I've been waiting."

Blessings,
Linda

Miracle Worker (a poem)

Before I wake, He's walking in the garden
Scattering seeds and dressing little flowers.
He spins the earth from darkness into daylight
And forms the clouds to bring a morning shower.

All through the day, He's walking close beside me
Protecting, guiding, giving grace to bear;
Forgiving, filling, carrying my burdens
Reminding me He knows my every care.

At close of day, when sunlight turns to darkness
He calls the moon and all the dancing stars
He never sleeps, He's ever watching, listening
And drawing near to every longing heart.

He's working miracles, but all the while He's listening
He hears His children when they call His name
And though a million voices intermingle
He hears each one, for no two are the same.

Blessings,
Linda

Five Minute Friday: Graceful

Five Minute Friday time (Don't the weeks slip by quickly?). Today Lisa-Jo has chosen graceful:

start:

I wanted to be a ballerina from the time I was a tiny girl, but any talent was buried beneath a heavy load of timidity. My shyness prevented me from being brave enough to step foot into a classroom. So I danced for my family, danced my way through my teens - unseen in the family room. I'd put on records (I'm old enough to remember those) and dance my way around the big sofa.

Any dreams of ballet have long since disappeared. Oh, I still dance in my heart when I watch the graceful ballerinas pirouette and leap into the arms of their strong partners, but only in my heart. These days graceful has taken on new meaning.

I long to speak in ways that encourage and glorify God. I long to write words that speak grace and love. I pray for wisdom to speak gracefully. I have traded dreams of toe-shoes for dreams of sheaves of paper filled with grace.

stop:

To participate in Five Minute Friday just click here and go to Lisa-Jo's. Or perhaps you'd just like to sit for a few minutes and read the graceful words.

Blessings,
Linda

Picture: Another picture from Patricia - whose grace and love bless.

A Glass Half-full

I have always been a girl who sees the glass half-full - a dreamer, spinning hope and happiness. I'm older now, and life has knocked hard causing some of the precious liquid to spill from the glass. For long seasons I hold steady, but inevitably they come - those days when it is hard not to focus on the empty part.

I wake and before I can take a deep breath the fog rolls in, blotting out even the tiniest ray of sunlight. "I cannot do this for another day," I whisper to Him. I'm not even sure what the "this" is. It is a nebulous compilation of the dull repetition of daily life, the doctor appointments I am weary to death of, a debilitating  feeling of mediocrity, a fear that I will one day stand before a pile of wood, hay and stubble that has turned to ashes.

I carry the folding chair out onto the front porch, along with my Bible and Bible study book. A breeze causes the branches of the oaks to dance in the sunlight. A hummingbird soars in for a drink. I bow my head and am overwhelmed by a palpable sense of His presence in this quiet place.The tears come.

He gently reminds me of words I copied into a notebook only days ago:

"It is not what a man does that determines whether his work is sacred or secular, it is why he does it. The motive is everything.
 Let a man sanctify the Lord God in his heart and he can thereafter do no common act... For such a man, living itself will be sacramental and the whole world a sanctuary."
A.W. Tozer

I close my eyes, acknowledging truth - truth He has been gently pressing into my heart. Those seasons, when the glass tilts alarmingly in the wrong direction, come when self  looms large. It is self who cries out for approval, for a day with dreams and desires fulfilled, for significance in the things I do. The "why" is me when it ought to be Him.

He is forever doing things in ways that seem backward to my needy self. The mystery is - the "backward" is the very thing I've been longing for. When I give everything back to Him, even when my heart says, "I don't want to..." or "I want..." the glass steadies. He takes the mundane and converts it into heavenly. He takes the small and lifts it up - in His way, in His time. He replaces fear with incomprehensible peace. He counts every small act done with a heart toward Him as gold.

He offers a glass filled to overflowing and says, "Come drink."

Linking to Emily's imperfect prose today.

Blessings,
Linda

picture from my sweet friend Patricia 

My Treasure

 I walked around yesterday in search of inspiration. Surely there was something I could write about - something significant and inspiring. Hadn't I learned anything in the past few days? Didn't anyone do anything special or say something profound? Wasn't there a perfect analogy hidden somewhere - anywhere?

I sat in silence ....waiting.....listening.....reading scripture.......nothing.

"I am just empty," I said to my boring little self.

Of course there was the day when we had to take Dad to the E.R. It looked as though he was having trouble with his heart - again. We held our collective breathe as we drove to meet the ambulance at the hospital. We prayed that even at ninety-two there were still miracles. We sat as they ran the usual tests. Waiting - it's such a difficult discipline.

The doctor was smiling when he returned. All was well with his heart. We relaxed, joked with the nurse, laughed at Dad's quirky sense of humor. We waved good-bye to possible heartache, and walked through the sliding doors into sunshine. One more day of grace.

Two days later it was our son's turn to lay on a hospital bed. We prayed for the surgeon who would replace the torn a.c.l. Forty year old sons still fit nicely inside a mother's heart. All went well. In no time at all we were sitting in his family room watching movies while he rested - giving thanks.

Yesterday, we nearly got t-boned at a busy intersection. Somehow, with traffic whizzing all around us, we were safe.

I saw a blue moon the other night. I stepped out onto the patio. The wind made the branches of the giant oaks dance. Against a backdrop of darkened sky and wispy clouds He hung the moon. Just like that. And it was magnificent.

My sweet husband made a holder for the hummingbird feeder the other day. We watched from the kitchen window, and they came. Swiftly darting in for a drink. Little miracles doing impossible things.

 

My crown of thorns plant is hidden away in the guest room. I don't often visit - only to bring an occasional drink of water. I was amazed when I walked in yesterday. I have never seen it so full of bloomd. I stood and looked and wondered. It nearly died when we were in the apartment, but I couldn't bring myself to throw it away. Look at what I would have missed.

While I walked around looking for inspiration, I talked to the Father, and it occurs to me He was right there listening. Just as He was in that E.R., the hospital room, the car and every place I went. If I am looking, I see evidence of His divine touch everywhere I go. They may not be big, sparkly miracles, but they are miracles nonetheless.

So....I don't have anything BIG to share, but such as I have I give you. And just between you and me, I think I have great treasure.

blessing,

Linda

Hear Us

"Lord, hear our cry;  Come heal our land
Breath life into these dry and thirsty souls.
Lord, hear our prayer;  Forgive our sin
And as we call on your name
Would you make this a place
For your glory to dwell.

Open the blind eyes
Unlock the deaf ears
Come to your people
As we draw near
Hear us from heaven
Touch our generation
We are your people
Crying out in desperation."

Jared Anderson

linking to my friends Sandy and Deidra

 



Blessings,
Linda

We're singing this in church this weekend.