"He dispatches his word and the thaw begins." Psalm 147:18
Sunday morning I awakened to the sight of white rain falling from the sky. Wait a minute, that's not rain. Snow wasn't in the forecast, but here it is. I know it won't stay for long. Not yet.
Psalm 147 says that God sends the snow to blanket the earth. He also sends the thaw.
This has been my prayer for a few months now over hearts that are closed toward God. Today I have ramped up that prayer. Perhaps it's the sight of snow that has spurred me on, or the sight of stubborn hearts needing to be melted.
"I will lower your resistance to the Holy Spirit." Graham Cooke
That is my prayer today for my own life and the lives of those I love.
Here at the camper, waiting for the rain to stop, I have spent my morning reading through Psalms and notes I'd made the last few weeks. Frustration with wet weather giving way to quiet work of the Holy Spirit.
Yesterday as I stripped a camper bed, I found McKenna's warm footies. I grabbed my iPhone to send a pic to her. The lowering light of the sun combined with shadowy darkness in the camper captured a moment of simplicity that made me smile.
As I posted last night, what struck me was I didn't try to bring any tidy ending or inspiring lesson from the difficult day. I simply shared what was happening.
A simplicity that makes me smile.
I had high hopes for this weekend. Not that closing the camper is any bit of fun, but seeing my daughter and her girls, taking fall foliage pics, and watching my Bella play soccer certainly is.
That was the plan.
Then I woke up not feeling so hot. All packed and ready, I'm a trooper. On we go.The fall leaves are waiting.
Barely out of our driveway it began to rain and then pour. By the time it stopped and we were three hours south of home, the leaves that had turned color were blowing off the trees.
I was too achy and yucky to give hugs or stay long at my daughter's house.
Brrrr, cold at the camper. I packed up remaining totes with blankets, all except what we will use tonight, emptied cupboards, and made a hot cup of tea with honey. Sigh. I am not sure the Portland trip will happen tomorrow. It's another two hour drive and a cold soccer game on Saturday.
Time for Jammie's and my book and early to sleep.
Did I mention the pic is from Mollie Makes? It's a delightful magazine and I would link to it except I'm not even sure this post will work from here.
It was a peaceful Sunday at the harbor with hardly a soul around. Camera in hand, I kept having the thought "look for the light."
I recall a devotional from last winter. If you are in a dark room and a firefly enters, all eyes will go to the firefly. There are times when we only have the light of a tiny firefly in the darkness of our circumstances. We must keep our eyes on the firefly and walk in the light that we have.
A brave post, inspired by Susannah Conway's blogging class:
A friend was sharing with me last week about her experience with shame. As she shared I could see a picture forming of a huge roadblock to grace.
I thought, "Wow, it would be powerful for her to share this at one of our women's gatherings sometime."
Then I went on with my day.
One morning in prayer I met up with my own roadblock of shame.
I had been reading a novel about abuse and the effect it had on the whole family. I felt the weight of my own failings as a parent, especially with my two oldest. I came into marriage and parenthood broken from my own childhood. Remnants of weary,worn baggage filtered into my parenting skills, which were already nil. Only by the grace of God, as I invited Him into my life, did I manage to make it through. But did it leave scars? Oh, not physical scars but emotional. I don't know how much of that is true and how much my perception.
I decline to go into detail because that is not my story anymore. There is nothing I cherish any more on this earth than my children and their children. What I want to focus on is Grace.
When I first saw that heavy shroud-like clothing on my spirit-woman that morning and recognized it as shame, I was taken aback. I had given this over to God years ago with tears of repentance and grief.
I thought that ship had sailed but it's more like the train I snapped a pic of last weekend. You can hear each car as they clickety-clack over the tracks, some looking old and battered, seemingly taking forever to move along. Not as a smooth, gliding sailboat, a thing of beauty as it passes before you.
The caboose does eventually come and it has always been my favorite car.
Psalm 25 - the Passion Translation: Don't let the shame of defeat come over me...Lord, how many are my sins. Lift their burden off my life.
I felt the burden shift and lift and I breathed in grace. I am not sure how this matches up with theology that says this was gone when I confessed it years ago, but I know an encounter with grace when I have one and this was it.
Goodbye little caboose.