He Caught My Drooping Head

{Inspired by the 23rd Psalm, several translations}

Oh God, you are so good.  I see  you there.

I glance over to my left and to my right and feel your presence.

Oh how pleasing and comforting is the crook, the one you reserve for sheep.

It leads, it moves, it corrects, it straightens, it lovingly changes direction.

Grateful is this child of yours.

You let me catch my breath.

After I was weary with fatigue, weary with worry, with dread,

You held me in your arms and you said rest, be still, know.

I heard you there with words of comfort, words of peace.

My head and my heart were drooping.

But you knew that.

And you saw me and in love, picked up my face, all cupped in your hands.

And you revived my spirit with your love.

This furry child, dressed in sheep’s clothing says thank you for the rest and the comfort.

Oh, especially thank you for those green pastures.

They are cool on these dry bones.

The green smells of new, new hope,  are fragrant, they smell sweet, like restored strength.

Oh, your timing is perfect, God.

And oh your protection gives this weary soul comfort.

Thank you for drawing me near, and that my cup  is overflowing.

It overflows with answered prayer and extravagant surprises from you.

It overflows with your loving hand on this life, and that of my family.

I now feel brave, because of you.

I now feel safe, because of you.

You give me hope. And evil can not touch me.

And evil is held at bay, because you are strong.  You are protection.

My heart cries out gratitude for giving me a cool pool to lie beside.

Your timing is perfect.  Your gifts come at the exact right time.

I want to live under your shelter forever.

Your house is all I need.

Where you are is where I want to be.

This is where I am safe and sound and this is where

I feel most like your child.

Wishing His Grace… wynnegraceappears

Five Things A Recent Glamping Trip Taught Me About Life

On a recent Glamping trip with The Patient One, the kiddos,  and close friends, I learned a lot about life, the gospel, and of course some truths about Glamping.

1. Glamping requires a return to simplicity.

Our glamping vehicle was lovingly named the tinaminium (spell check does not recognize this as a word). It was a rented camper that provided many creature comforts (therefore the loose refence to the “minium” in the term of endearment, tinaminium. Condo’s bring some form of luxury to mind. I digress. What’s new.

Life lived under the brilliant stars and the ebony black sky is exhilarating. The air feels cleaner, the stars are brighter, and many of life’s accoutrements are left at home. This is by design, in order to do life differently, and due to a lack of space. They are somehow not missed at all. (well accept for the long hot showers and the strong internet signal). We packed high thread count sheets and white linen table cloths and our ipads. That’s why its called Glamping sillies.

2. It is important to love your neighbor as yourself, while at your glampsite. (spell check doesn’t know this word either.)

This means don’t run your generator when others are sleeping because it is loud and bothersome. It is important to be a good neighbor because you are parked very close to your neighbor, therefore any of the fruits of the spirit which you didn’t leave at home should be used in dealing with  communicating with others.

For example, if your neighbor’s campsite is in close proximity to the door of your home-on-wheels and the  smoke is wafting into your tiniminium, causing you to be engulfed
in smoke   slightly inconvenienced, its best to be a good neighbor by moving your vehicle out of the smoke’s way.  It is much simpler and kinder than asking them to a. move their camp fire b. extinguish their campfire c. use different firewood that doesn’t smoke up the entire neighborhood.

3.Glampsites are a breeding ground for good story-telling and honing your listening skills.

Writers love stories, and I love writing, therefore, I love stories.  I love listening to them, digesting them, processing them, and writing them.  That must be why I love glamping so much.  Because they are a breeding ground for story. Wait that may have been a leap, or I may have loosely connected the dots there on point 3.

Time stood still, as Time does when you are engrossed in a good story, so I don’t know how long I listened to a new “friend”, my glampsite neighbor tell me an amazing story of his life.  He is a writer and I am a writer so naturally we talked for a very long time.  And I will be writing more of his story here on these pages after I have asked his permission to re-tell.  It is his story not mine, so I’d like to request permission before pressing publish here on the blog.

What I can tell you, is it was rich and deep and heartbreaking.  I can tell you that his story is filled with redemption, hope, and C.S. Lewis’ “Mere Christianity.” I can tell you that the strength and perserverance that it took to live through his pain, heal from his pain, and ultimately choose to share his story, well they inspire. And they are a beautiful story of forgiveness, healing, and love.

(I did not expect this story to come sit in my lap and pierce my heart while Glamping. Did I mention that I was surprised often while on this Glamping trip.)

And I can tell you if I hadn’t gone Glamping, I wouldn’t have met my new “friend”.  He called out to me and asked me to sit and talk to him while he breaded shrimp for the fryer.  He said  “I am a little OCD about this process.”  That is why we had an inordinate amount of time together, talking and listening over three pounds of shrimp being breaded. It was time very well-spent.

I also sat and chatted with a neighbor from home and learned that she had lost both of her parents this past year.  I have known her for 17 years, we live in the same small town, we have children the same age and I didn’t know that her mother and father had both died this year.

Her story caused me to stare into her eyes and listen with all I have.  There is more to her story than I can share until I ask, but losing parents in one condensed time frame has to be deeply painful.  She and I have made plans to go paddle boarding together.  I have another “new” friend because of glamping.

4. Glamping creates the need to be dependent on one another for “survival.”

We dragged a lot of stuff with us, but we still didn’t prepare well enough.  Our friends, not the ones in the glamper with us but the ones in a tent down the way, prepared better than we did in the food (protein) department.  Because they are kind, generous, and really good cooks, gifted really in the culinary arts, we ate like Kings and Queens.  We “lived” off of their grill and their kindness.  Well, I can’t speak for anyone else.  I did. And food tastes better when its prepared on a new $700 grill which is transported out to a glampsite for the weekend.  And food tastes better when it is eaten out-of- doors in the cool fresh air. In fact, a lot of things are better out-of-doors on a plantation in the middle of nowhere.  We know it was nowhere because the GPS couldn’t find it.

5. Friendship is better in close quarters (and friendships grow deep roots in the dark)

When Glamping, your generator must be turned on in order to have light. Well sometimes its just best to preserve your power and sit in the dark. Especially when it is late at night, and music from the music festival is serenading you on a Saturday night, on a quail hunting plantation, on a cool May night, in your tinaminium with a really close friend. Actually, your super-glue friend, your accountability partner and your sister-in-Christ. The dark can be good for sharing life, your heart, and having good momma time.

The dark of night can breed intimacy in friendship. And living in very close quarters could test the best of friendships. But this one survived and may have been made stronger. Many of our friends have walk in closets bigger than this space the four of us shared for a weekend.

Because we like to laugh, we imagined that Jesus could have written a parable teaching us how to treat others in a glamping campsite. We studied the parables in our Bible Study this fall, so they were still front and center in our frontal lobe parts. We had a stranger come to our door during that dark of night, generator off, talking heart to heart time. He scared us. We think we missed an opportunity to be kinder and gentler to him than we were. Did I mentioned he scared us? He had the wrong door, its like the wrong number when you call someone. He was looking for friends. They were staying in the tinaminium next door. Did I mention he scared us.( Well startled would be more accurate.) We pointed him in the right direction. But we didn’t offer him a meal or a kind word. And we weren’t particularly good neighbors. We felt like those in the parable of the Good Samaraitan who passed by the guy laying in the ditch. You know, the ones who didn’t help. Well we pointed him in the right direction. He just had the wrong camper.

Maybe we’ll get a second chance to “do unto others” on our next Glamping trip. Maybe we’ll get a do-over in the do-unto others department. We can only hope.

And there will be another. Even though the showers are short and sweet, and the creature comforts are few and far between, even with a loud generator.

Who doesn’t love the chance to hear stories under the blue sky days out in the middle of a field. And to live more simply.

There is much to learn out under the stars, and clouds, huddled by your camper with friends and family.

I wish I hadn’t stopped with five things I learned, though you may be.

wishing His grace….

When Grace Appears….In A Southern Side Yard, After The Rain

Don’t forget to pray today because God did not forget to wake you up this morning.

–Oswald Chambers

Prayer is simple, prayer is supernatural, and to anyone not related to our Lord Jesus Christ, prayer is apt to look stupid.

–Oswald Chambers

If I obey Jesus Christ in the seemingly random circumstances of life, they become pinholes through which I see the face of God.

–Oswald Chambers


{ all photographs taken by wynnegraceappears and while a watermark is not present, they are a part of this blog. Thank you for your consideration.}

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wishing grace on this Sabbath and for all to be beautiful, after the rain.

Small Things Take Up A Lot Of Space

“Sometimes”, said Pooh,” the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.” —A.A. Milne

There is amazing power in the one small thing.  One small thing can create a big impact on a body, a soul, a mind, a heart, a moment, a day.

Like the last drop of rain on a leaf is enough to break the bough, tipping the scale, tipping it over.

Rippling through for better or worse, making its mark, this one small thing can impact with force.

One small fleck of dust in the eye distracts and blurs vision.

One small splinter in the finger causes pain and attention directed to the throbbing digit.

 And as a crack in the hull can sink the Titantic,  one word can start a war, one gesture can mend a wounded spirit, so one small action can really  shake things up.

I woke early, very early, restless.

What a slow learner I am.  How slowly I let lessons creep in, settle in and then stay.

I had stumbled, tripped up, been tripped up. And wanting a do-over, yearning for new-found patience, hungry for a re-written script of my narrative was surely at the root of my sleeplessness.

And a message pops up in the pre-dawn hours which changes me.  It softens and it loves through a back-lit screen.  It tenderizes the tough spots. And salves the tender ones.

A note so simple saying she just didn’t know why but she was praying for me.

A small few black words on a white background delivering hope and ecouragement.  The floodgates open and my insides want to erupt with the ripeness of the moment, hitting the bullseye of my heart with perfection.  Love crawling across a screen to meet my insomnia and my woundedness.

I receive so much from a young mother who is up nursing her baby.  She also nurses my soul.

She says that she just doesn’t know why but she can’t stop thinking of me, I am stuck in her head and when that happens she just prays.  So, she continues, “you are getting a lot of prayers.” And she says she just wanted to check in with me.

I will get to thank her today and to wrap my arms around her sweet spirit. And I will smell and touch and hug her first-born son, who is weeks old.

Because her one sweet small note to me opened up communication, I am now privileged to spend time over lunch and a new born with this precious young woman. Amazing grace. And if a note on a screen can deliver such joy and hope, I cannot imagine what time in the flesh will present to this soul.

And oh, how I want to stretch this forward to another. To go be small to someone today. To show-up in a life, to a heart, to a friend, to a stranger in all my smallness.

Don’t we long for these encounters with others.  How many have I missed.

Small opportunity.

Small invitation.

Small calls to be obedient in love, in encouragement, in offering a lifeline.

This blog is a baby.  It is a new-born by the world’s standards, months old.

As it grows up a little, I pray that God will use these pages in a small way.

But more importantly, that I will have ears to hear, and a heart to listen.

As I write, and I blog, and I listen, and respond, and dig in, and wrestle with, and process, and  tackle, and ponder and question, my hope and prayer is that it is pleasing to Him.

My sweet friend has taken up a lot of space in my heart today. Her gesture just sits there being all big and beautiful.

May we all go seek out and be one small thing in someone’s life today, delivering Joy, Hope, and Grace by the boatload.

I started my day praying for forgiveness and I will probably end it the same way.  But maybe  in the in-between times God can use this broken soul to be a blessing to another, to serve as I have been served in love and in obedience.