the art of taking note
This is how I visualize you as I pray, you in all your lovely splendor–each unique, radiant, drenched in brilliant color. You, a sea of beauty in this day.
Wishing Grace, simply
wynnegraceappears
(photos taken on the way home from grocery shopping today, this day.)
How many times have I driven by simple beauty? The shades of green, from apple to spring bud, spring green, teal, lime, asparagus alone are blinding in their beauty. Shamrock green, chartreuse, jungle green and lawn green. God created, man named.
And how many times have I walked out into my daily life blind and alone. Seeing but not seeing. Struggling when He was there. Relying on my own strength and not His alone.
How overlooked is the bent oak bough reaching and calling and wooing me to take notice of her age and her magesty. Her dripping grey scarves of moss and fresh green buds.
Her canopy of strength and protection.
Joan Chittister writes in “Illuminated Life, “–” Dailiness, routine, sameness frees the heart to traffic in more important matters Mindless work…. is not a burden when the mind is full and the heart like a laser beam finds its way to God. …. We run from place to place and thing to thing, we skirt from idea to idea and do not recognize God in the humdrum of the day to day. We give our souls no rest and find them dying from spiritual starvation when we need them most.”
In my routine of passing by I had opportunity to capture her beauty and her presence. God the Creator created this bold, rough, boughed up, twisted and bent oak. I could notice it and thank. And I could hear God calling me, by name. If I would quiet my spirit. If I will still my flesh and body. If I bend my heart and my ear to hear Him whisper. And He does.
And so often like the single sheep or grazing cow away from the flock or herd, I wither. He calls me back in community and He calls me back through His people. I am redirected. I am sheltered.
I refresh and am restored by stories so many in small groups and teachings that God has called me in. Stories of bold faith, of pain and redemption. Stories that point to perserverance through long periods of prayer. Stories that tell of forgiveness and love and relying on him. Each story an individual God tale of His calling His people to Himself.
And I can authentically offer my story too. The real and raw telling of his moving and sustaining. Because it points to Him and His love and His Grace. When the masks come off and the real and true are shown, it is then that He can touch me and a story of Him and of all His Grace, all His Mercy, all His greatness can go out into dark.
In my daily dailiness I want to stay in the shelter of His word.
In my routine I want His hemming in.
And in my blessed times of community and being built up I want to be filled to overflowing with encouragement of His goodness. To go out to bless and encourage others.
Rock, paper, scissors. It was a game that was simple. So very simple. And I can use this childrens game to steer my mind back to God in all matters.
Rock –That the hard places of my heart would soften by the touch of His hand
Paper — That I would be encouraged by rustling the pages of His word. And staying there. Meditating there.
Scissors — That He would cut away the rot, the sin, the masks, the inauthentic. Surgically remove with the sharpest tools and the steadiest hands, that which does not bring Him Glory.
In a tough parenting moment middle child asked me why if he was to take responsibility of himself and his academic struggles would I get involved. And I said we need accountability. We all need accountability partners and friends who lovingly redirect us back. And the Holy Spirit will gently do that if I allow Him to. Why would I tell my child I will follow up to hold you to account? Because accountability comforts and provides a check. Because the Shephard goes looking for the one lost sheep and the Shephard’s crook lovingly draws us back. Because His sheep know and hear His voice. And they respond. Because away from the Shephard away from the herd, I wither and I will not survive. Because His loving correction always brings blessing.
Rock, paper, scissors. A device for me to direct my heart back to His.
Easter is coming. Celebration is peeking around the corner. Joy wants to leap and spin and twirl around.
But first.
Lord, hold me to account. Show me my sin. My fake. My unreal. My inauthenic. Lord, thank you for new mercies and clean slates and fresh starts. What amazing grace.
Rock, paper, scissors.
Do you know about the Mariana Trench.
Do you know of this amazing place, the deepest ocean trench in all the world.
How simply amazing, this unfathomable place of deep and dark and hardly even explored. Not really known. Not well.
I am amazed at the unknowing of such depths of place.
And I amazed too at what simply amazing things are yet to be explored by this explorer of beauty.
In my one zip code town.
Right now, right here in my world at the end of my nose there is much to see.
So very much to see designed and formed by the hands of Artist God. Creator God.
And everything He has made allows me a glimpse into knowing Him deeper. More intimately. Because in the daily and in the simple and mundane ordinary life He presents who He is. He breaks through to me if I am awake. If I want to see His art. And I do.
How can so much wait for discovery. How much can one day hold out, extend.
I take my camera and go. And like a surgeon carefully removing the sutures after healing, I look back on one day and say really? That was one day.
Oswald Chambers writes, “Simply obey Him with unrestrained joy.” This is what I want to learn. This is what I want to be taught.
Unrestrained joy.
In a day I am privileged to be called Quailla’s lady friend and to hear thank you a dozen times from mouthes of sixth grade girls, smiling over greasy pizza. Thank you. How many times can they remember to say it. It is like a chorus of sweetness like tree frogs after rain. I stopped counting there was so much gratitude, it rained down love. It was only pizza. And I ask them about “The Hunger Games” movie and in their sixth grade wisdom they say don’t read the book first see the movie first then read the book. Oh, okay. And one rips the cheese off and all the toppings eating crust first then the other. And we each have our way. Is it two slices or one and one was so hungry no breakfast, my friend, I worry. And what unrestrained joy I feel in being called a lady and a friend in one mouthful.
And middle one fusses and argues and pressing in on the heart, and later says words so sweet, so tender, so joyful. This blend, this mixture, this life.
A stranger works hard, so hard, to connect lost car keys to a teenage child, my own and she reports to me her joy. How they travel from carwash to her hands because of stranger kindness. Momma guess what happened always goes to the heart. With joy. Because the momma heart wants to know it all.
A receptionist extends an extra measure of grace, working out scheduling fine points to help this mother and this child. Helping with joy. Helping with bowed up smile on face and eye glimmer when I say my thank you’s. Sixth grade girls are good teachers of gratitude.
And an email from a childhood friend proclaims an encounter with the one who carried me in her, who birthed me in to this God home. She says my momma is her hero now because of what she’s witnessed. My heart, like surgeon’s hands, removes all parts and pieces of this day tenderly in the looking back.
The Mariana Trench. The below the ocean depths, unfathomable place holds mystery. Unexplored. But so does this dry above ground place. This life.
What sweet and tender heart behind the window. She asks me, prods me, walks me through a way to save on medicine. It is so expensive, this tool for living. This ADHD remedy for child of mine. She cares. She pauses. She suggests. She prompts. And it is grace and love in an unexpected place. And its gift.
What follows is gift too. From the Artist, Creator. Yesterday my camera and I saw these things. I see pinks on brown and shadows. I see weeds of beauty. And crosses in rubble and grey and lavendar and green mingled and mixed. And you might see beauty too. Enjoy scrolling down and resting where you like and skipping past where you choose. Bless you each as you look out for life today.
Wishing unrestrained Joy.
Psalm 19:1 – God’s Glory is on tour in the skies, God-crafted on exhibit across the horizon.”
Psalm 19:7- The revelation of GOD is whole and pulls our lives together. The signposts of GOD are clear and point out the right road.
Psalm 98:1 – Sing to GOD a brand-new song. He’s made a world of wonders! He rolled up his sleeves, He set things right.
We are traveling back from a short but action filled mother daughter time away.
Weary and in need of rest we hunger for home and all that is to us.
Comfort, nourishment, routine, fellowship, strength of my husband, the love of her dad.
These blessings are miles away but we are journey weary and fatigued. We feel far away from home and on empty.
I am in need of being awakened by Beauty.
So God infuses His wonder, His presence and a distinct double rainbow in the Heavens.
I am awakened by Beauty.
I am restored for the rest of the journey.
When God’s presence is so raw and real and felt, don’t we wake up in a new and fresh way.
What an amazing way of speaking to us.
We laugh about that pot of gold at the end of this bow of beauty and name the irony of it being Saint Patricks Day. We need rest and a beauty moment so we pull off the main road, down a chocolate brown country side road and get out and gaze over emerald green farm land. One mother, one daughter, and one amazing Creator God.
She records. I record.
The single glorious bow of color and majesty whispered to us, wooed us, to turn off the road. To soak in this gift. His gift.
And then the double appeared. She shouts, its a double rainbow.
Our tired tanks, depleted by life and travel are filled with His Glory. He restores.
And He always does. He knows us so well. Our needs, our hearts desires, the cry of our spirit out to Him.
What started out as a journey home will now be tagged and labeled as the time we saw the double rainbow. God marked and God painted moments owning the day.
What others have I missed, those days he marked with beauty that I didn’t catch or see or mark.
What other moments did he lay before me to minister into or speak into or be present in that I simply fell asleep at the wheel.
Grateful for this one. Keenly looking for all that He has laid out like precious jewels in our path. Simply, wondrously, colorfully speaking to us in Love and with Goodness all these days of our lives.
In my sanctified imagination this seemed like a moment for me so perfectly timed. BUT he loves us all so much it had to be for His whole world, for all of creation, for all of His children to see and soak in.
My pictures are so lacking in His spectacular gift. But sharing with you all amplifies the moment, and increases the beauty.
Thank you for reading. You humble me.
Mark His Beauty all around. To Him be praise and glory
Thanking him for all that He gives and counting gifts (but not often as I should) with Ann Voskamp over at A Holy Experience, author of 1000 Gifts ( click on her link over to the right under Blogroll)
*Dreaming with my daughter of a prom dress that frames her beautiful spirit and is “just perfect”
*Thanking Him for the precious young man who asked her. Praying God’s blessing on budding relationships.
*Thanking Him for fun in defeat, laughter in the face of fleeting victory.
*Home Sweet Sweet Home and Sunday worship, Sunday quiet, and Sunday family time
*Purple wisteria on slate gray vines dangling their bounty down country roads
*A double rainbow over an emerald green field.
*The first words from my 17 year old when I walked in the door. Precious and full of love. A true gift.
*Watching his eyes as he listened to the sermon today, listening to him praying The Lord’s Prayer
Enjoy this beautiful film. Creator God is worthy of Praise.
elizabeth w. marshall 