For When You Want a Second Chance To Get It Right

Sometimes you simply wish you could go back and choose differently.

And yesterday is one of those sometimes for me.

I missed an opportunity to connect with someone. These relationships He puts in our life  are immeasurable gifts. They are opportunities for deep connection with other souls.

So I missed out.

And I grieved.

And I spent a very long while wondering why I missed a chance to speak and listen and learn and love. I missed a chance to be blessed, to laugh, to  hug, to smile, to  embrace and to  hear from someone who has been told they have two months of earthly life left to live.

My daughter was in the car and she said “turn around, go back.” And even then I did not. I glimpsed him standing on the sidewalk and I chose to drive by.

Yesterday I called my husband to say I had chosen poorly. “Please take me for a visit soon. I want to go visit.” I need a second chance.

And today I will go to the Prayer Labyrinth down the road from our mountain home to pray for our friend, for his cancer, for his life, and for his ministry.

And to thank God that he has always been a God of second chances.

He has always been and will always be a God full of Mercy, Grace, and Forgiveness.

He was yesterday as I gripped the steering wheel of my car so full of regret.

And He is today as I walk the Prayer Labyrinth offering up prayers for my friend. Prayers for healing and for thanksgiving for his life.

And He will be the God of second chances tomorrow when I choose poorly again. He takes our regret and sorrow and redeems us with His beautiful  Love and Amazing Grace. Always. Every time.

He heals the hurts of those who long for second chances.

May we all delight in the relationships and people He puts right in our path, right here, right now today. And may we not miss a chance to love another as He would have us love.

{I thank God for each of you and am grateful for you today}

For Better, For Worse, Till Death

Today is 5 minute Friday at Lisa-Jo’s where we write for five minutes on a one word prompt; and today it is on risk. Challenged. Scared. Excited. I will write for five minutes and trust. Thank you for being here today. It is a privilege to have you on this journey. (Linking with Lisa-Jo at Lisa Jo Baker dot com) GO

Risk- For Better, For Worse, Till Death

Everyday is a new start. His Mercies define the new. The beginnings begin anew. We love fresh, we love new. And we start our “I do’s” all over again. Every morning of everyday.

We love, broken. We love hurt. We love tired. We love flat out. And extravagantly. With it all on the line.

And when He leaves for a season, only to come back months later, we start over again with Hope, and Love, and forgiveness.

And there they are again. The new Mercies of His. They are there.

Walking beside Trust.

And when we say I do, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, till death, we risk.

We risk a life of two, merged as one. Invested. Investing. Placing the needs, desires and wants of the individual, of the one behind those of the other.

Because Love invests and Love risks.

It risks everything.

And gains the whole world and a life of love.

Love is risky business, but oh the glorious, indescribable, unfathomable reward.

STOP

The Little Art Bus That Could {Joy Comes To The Subway}

This is a story.

And like any good story you should use your imagination.

All good stories, really good stories, have the same elements.

They have suspense, hope, love, forgiveness, the element of surprise, scarey parts, funny parts, laughter, tears, love, and the good guy always wins.

In this story you will find all these elements of story and more, woven together to form a beautiful story, a tale, a parable, a love story, and the good guy wins in the end because He has already won.

The battle is won. And He is victorious.

But every day we have the privilege of living our individual stories, our own beautiful stories of life and love and giving and partaking and seeing the world and walking out life with others.  Always with others.  Never alone. Always in community. Always as a team.

And what story doesn’t have big bold beautiful pictures that tell along with the words.

Aren’t they often the best part. A word will grab you and show and tell you. I am a lover of words and believer in the power of words. But they work as a team in tandem with the photographs capturing joy and hope and work and play at the perfect time. With precision in love.

We alway want those action verbs, oh use those action verbs those teachers of writers tell the writers.

So this is the part where the good student shows with words and pictures.  The pictures are story in technicolor.

The words will come tomorrow and the day after tomorrow, because the writer is weary and the words, well they need to marinate and process a bit longer in the story. Linger there.  Wait there, for their story to be unveiled and be revealed.

But because you came and because you asked, I will give you some clues to the story, just as the clues were taped to the subway wall, and you can write a story all your very own in your heart and mind.

One about this story, and you will probably be very very close to the Truth.

Here are some clues, and some action verbs to spark your very vivid, creative imaginations.

Daring Dilemna

Patiently Waiting

Curious Onlookers

Joyful Strangers

Hurry Up and Wait

Offering Forgiveness

Accepting Forgiveness

Through the Roof

Begging Forgivenss

Crazy Laughter

Bone Tired

Heart of Gratitude

Off To The Ball Park

Homebody Buddies

Crazy Love Wrapped In Fur

Creator God Speaks To His People Through His People

Community Bonded In Service

Hospitality Speaks A Common Language

Framing A Story

Framing A Picture

Framing a Life’s Dream

Healing With Joy

Reaching Across with Words

Reaching Out With Voices of Hope

Not the End…..

Looking At Life Through A Lense Of Forgiveness

That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.  Romans 8:28


It was a little over a year ago.

Cracked open a mothers heart.

Busted it wide slap open.

The phone rings at night.  I need to come home.

And so the next morning he brought him home.  Away at school, a boarding school, he had 21 days left of the school year.

But he needed to be home, with family.  Under the roof of protection.  Under the cover of love.

And now forgiveness starts. Like hatchlings peck pecking at the shell, the hard outer, to gain freedom, to fly free, forgiveness is like that. Freeing you up to be unbound. Releasing you outside the hard shell to live in a place of freedom, not bound by pain and anger.

But more importantly he forgives.  And he has forgiven.  He forgave. It’s like conjugating a latin verb, the repetition of the drill brings perfection in the recitation. I forgive, he forgives, we forgive, they forgive. Its really important to perfect this excercise in full, flat-out, nothing held back forgiveness.

At least for the mother. And she believes for the son.

The mother knows because he forgives because he told her.  And Romans 8:28 pierces, raw red beating, pulsing mommas heart with new power.  With new meaning.  It delivers Truth to the threshold of the home.

When pain inflicted by words and actions wound deep in the inner parts, healing deep and wide is required in the embrace of a father and Our Father. And a mother. And home heals.

And forgiveness begins.

So The Patient One, he barely sleeps through the night like the restless protector at the gate keeping watch over his family, one eye open, heart bruised but braced for the extraction. The extraction of a child from woundedness and pain beyond what he can bear up under.

Twenty some odd days left, but the challenges have become too great. And the hurt it got into the soul and the heart and the head and banged around too much. Delt some blows that carved craters in the inner parts.

Words wound and insults, like stinging nettles in the sea, they rip into the flesh and scar. Pain inflicted through words. We know well the power if we were blind to that before. We know now full well the power of language and actions.

It was time to come home.

And I know because he told me.

And he told the mother, you know those guys why did they do that stuff, and why were they so mean. And the mother says they were hurting, they had pain in their own lives. And the mother says I don’t know, but that they were unhappy.

And he says, you know I forgave them.

And the mother blinks back tears, a blend of sweet sorrow and salty pride, and warm love and says she is glad.

He says you know I am glad it happened because I am home now. And I am so glad to be home.

Healing continues, restoration is complete, and he looks at life through a lense of forgiveness.

And the mother understands Romans 8:28.

And God gives the mother new understanding of what a shelter of love and protection under the covering of home can look like, feel like, and live like.

A mother views life through a lense of grace……and forgiveness.

counting gifts on Monday, here, with Ann at A Holy Experience dot com.

* Family time with sand,salt, sea and kayaks

*Having all three kiddos under my roof, bliss—pure joy

*Planning the Great Art Adventure and watching God work out all the details

*Celebrating graduation with neices, with my god-daughter.

*Awaiting the birth of our precious Sadie’s black lab puppies soon. Watching The Patient One and my man/child build the welcome box for the puppies.

* Seeing the excitement in my daughter’s eyes and heart at the count-down to the birth of these young furry children in our home–new life, new furry love, the miracle of God’s design for new life and how we are privileged to play a small role in loving momma dog.

*Spending time with precious friends on the boat, on the river laughing and planning and just being–the simple joy of deep trusted invested in friendship.

*Having middle son tell me how much a certain scripture speaks to him and how he went into his bedroom and spent time with his bible. How the Lord gave him the verse.

*Middle son enjoying his time on the beach after a 92 pound weight loss. A mother’s heart watches years of pain erased by new mercies on these sunny days on the beach, on the river, with friends.

Linking up here and here and here and here too