Tag: God

Sunflowers and Heaven

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Suzette Sunflower

I am dropping in today to share a poem my Wildflowers friend, Kim B, sent with a couple of sunflower photos–shared in a post earlier this year. It’s no secret that I love sunflowers, and this poem touches why they are my favorite. They are my reminder to turn toward our true Source of light in whose presence we see and know and are seen and known.

And that will be heaven
Evangeline Patterson

and that will be heaven

and that will be heaven
at last     the first unclouded
seeing
to stand like the sunflower
turned full face to the sun     drenched
with light     in the still centre
held     while the circling planets
hum with an utter joy

    seeing and knowing
at last     in every particle
seen and known     and not turning
away
never turning away
again

The poem almost feels like an exegesis of 1 Corinthians 13:12, through which we understand our knowledge will be complete only when we meet Jesus face to face:

For now we see through a glass, darkly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; but then shall I know, even as also I am known.

May you have a weekend filled with light and sweet moments in the presence of the Divine.

About the Image: Today’s standing tall sunflower image features the photo-work of my Wildflowers friend Suzette R who captures some of the most stunning sunflower images. This photo was the “main event” of the packet of floral goodies she sent for International Women’s Day.

God in a Care Bears Sticker

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Image by Tú Thúy from Pixabay

Each morning I wake up and write at least three positive things from the day before to remind myself I will almost always have a very good day—even though I might wake up wanting to crawl back under the oh-so-comfy covers.

One morning, when the exhaustion hit an intolerably high point, I ended my “positives” list with the Care Bear stickers Shamara, one of our ESL tutors, slipped onto my desk when I stepped out of my office the afternoon before. I closed my prayer with gratitude for the person who cared enough to give me a Care Bears sticker.

A few days earlier, Shamara overheard me exclaiming over the cuteness of the sticker and my love for Care Bears when I saw it in a friend’s planner—and later on my sister’s desk. [Confession: I might have whined a little that I didn’t receive a sticker].

Of course, seeing the sticker on my desk that day made me squeal. But my gratitude comes from something more; it comes from knowing someone is paying attention in even the little things.  Furthermore, the tiny, cheerful Care Bears sticker is evidence of El Roi, the God who sees me. He knew I needed something in that moment when Shamara slipped into my office, He knows I need the reminder of this gesture to get me through the daily mayhem. So, the Care Bears greet me every morning when I open my planner.

I am not impressed by jewelry and fancy cars, but God knows cute stickers with bears and bunnies and (of course) sunflowers will delight me for days and days and days.

Reclaiming April | The Gift

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gift-548296_1920

What a pleasant surprise to discover late last night another of my pieces was published in Agape Review. I wrote the poem last summer when my son and I challenged each other to write a poem using the word “gift.” It is appropriate for the theme I’ve been working with–“reclaiming April” and learning to let things go.

Find the poem here and let me know what you think: The Gift.

I love the way Michael B, one of my dearest friends (in a Facebook post), connects this poem to Resurrection Sunday and the ultimate Gift God gave in Jesus (John 3:16). May you give the gift of your worries and cares to the ultimate Gift-giver.

Happy Easter!

Measureless Grace

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Tulips 2023

Last week was a beast. I went to work each day not feeling my best. I thought I would keep things light and push through as best I could.

Plagued by severe seasonal allergies and a shoulder that had been giving me grief since I fell two weeks ago, I was tasked with one thing after another and unable to catch a break. Then, there was even more to be done after work—writing recommendations, reviewing projects, fundraising, and completing the usual household tasks. 

At the end of the week—relieved that I could finally rest—I shut things down and sat quietly with my thoughts. I thought about my behavior throughout the week—about how each morning I groaned (inwardly) at the prospect of a full workday; about how I whined when I was too cold or too pained or too sneezy; about how I was too blunt and (at times) too exasperated. 

I repented my “sins” and realized God was in every detail of my week. In spite of it all, I accomplished much, much more than I should have considering my physical condition and certainly more than I could have on my own—even under normal circumstance. 

…But for the immeasurable grace of God.

I happened upon Psalm 55:22 early last week and wrote it in my journal. t was a promise I needed as I started the week already exhausted, in pain, and feeling cheated out of spring break because of the fall.  

Leave all your cares and anxieties at the feet of the Lord,
and measureless grace will strength will strengthen you. –Psalm 55:22 TPT

Measureless grace. That’s what God gives—even when I’m less than gracious, even when I’m pouty and easily irritated. It is what He gave to get me through a physically draining week.

Thankfully, as I place all the cares and anxieties of this week at His feet, He assures me He has more than enough grace for this week too. 

Those tulips above? More of His grace. 

Happy First Day of Spring!

Redbuds and Enduring Grief

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Redbud3

Today marks 10 years since my sister Karlette took her last breath. As I showered this morning, at about the same time I got the call, I told myself grief would not win today.

I enjoyed a beautiful church service, had dinner with my guys at one of my aunts’ homes, and took a moment to appreciate the tiny pink blossoms of the redbud tree in front of her home.

Interesting that in all these years, I had not seen the tree in bloom before. I’m certain that God led me to the pink blossoms–especially today.

I had my own notion of grief.
I thought it was the sad time
that followed the death of someone you love.
And you had to push through it
to get to the other side.
But I’m learning there is no other side.
There is no pushing through.
But rather,
there is absorption.
Adjustment.
Acceptance.
And grief is not something you complete,
but rather, you endure.
Grief is not a task to finish
and move on,
but an element of yourself,
an alteration of your being.
A new way of seeing.
A new definition of self.  –Gwen Flowers

Welcoming 2023: Seven Tips for Beating Winter Sorrow

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Winter Trees

I’m baaaaaaccccckkkk! 

So, 2023?

Here we are and I can’t say that I am feeling all the “new newness” of the year. I want to. I am trying to, but I can’t seem to get my head in the game. In fact, I spent the first days of the year “in a funk,” as my mom and baby sister would say. A million things to do. Too many ideas floating around in my head. “Goings on” I would normally be excited about. I just could not get myself motivated to do anything. 

I blame “wintercearig”–winter sorrow–a feeling of downheartedness or despondency caused by or as desolate as the depths of winter. You can read all about the Anglo-Saxon word on the Haggard Hawks blog. Wintercearig perfectly captures the impact of the winter season. 

I don’t think I suffer from “seasonal affective disorder,” but December brought two or three weeks (straight) of dreary, rainy weather followed by insanely cold temperatures.

Temp Dec

Actual temperature two days before Christmas–and I had done very little preparation. 

Considering this is the South, it was downright disrespectful. It seemed everyone’s spirits suffered. My own bones were so steeped in “winter sorrow” that I had to fake my way through the holidays. 

When I was facing the return to work last week, I struggled. I literally begged God to lift my spirits. I had things to do, after all!

An agonizing day later, my Bible study took me to Philippians 3:13-14:

Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

Even though the verses have different meanings, I stalled at the phrase “press on” and accepted the Divine instruction to press. As much as I would have loved to lie on the sofa under a comfy throw and binge-watch “whatever,” I was well aware of the reality:

We have responsibilities that we cannot ignore and we can’t always “lie down” and succumb to our feelings. Sometimes, we have to “press on” no matter what. So, I sat down and scribbled some ideas in my journal to help get me through the day–ideas for “pressing” on when we lack motivation, when we’re weary, and when we’re simply “in a funk.” 

  1. First things first: Get up and move. Do something. Walk. Run. Dance. Clean your house. Chop some wood. Just move. Don’t allow yourself to sit and wallow.
  2. If you’re anything like me, when you don’t feel like doing anything, staring at a long list of tasks to be completed is enough to send you into a state of depression. Sometimes, you have to place the lengthy list in a drawer and make a new list of the absolutely must-dos and hit that list hard and fast—one by one. Task by task is key to not overwhelming yourself and running in the opposite direction. Pro tip: When you’re “in a funk,” even the smallest task, expectation, or obligation can feel impossible, so pray your way through every movement and remind yourself, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” 
  3. Make a piping hot cup of tea and sip slowly while listening to some cool jazz or your favorite music. Yes, tea is the answer to almost everything. 😉

  4. And while we’re on the subject of music. Create a playlist of your upbeat favs and sing along loudly and off key. There’s nothing like giving your abdominals a good workout to improve mood. I’m sure there’s some physiological explanation for that, but I’ll let the music therapists address the topic.

  5. Do something bright and colorful! Throw paint around. Play with stickers. Write a cheerful ditty or postcard. Do something that brings out your inner creative or inner child.

  6. Dial a friend. A funny one. One who is lighthearted and free and who will not allow you to remain in the doldrums.

  7. Plan a reward for yourself—a nap (my favorite reward), a new book, a pretty pen—something you can enjoy when you break free of your “downward” mood.

These all work for me, but what do you do when faced with all the icky, sluggish feelings that descend from time to time? Share in the comments.

Until next time…

May 2023 be good to thee. 😉

Dark | Sit with It

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Sunflower from Arizona

I am sharing a piece I wrote just a few moments ago during a writing circle session. I chose the prompt “I wish” for the group, hoping that a fanciful tale of unicorn dreams and butterfly wishes would fall from my pen. Instead, after being unable to write about my feelings for weeks, this spilled out:

I wish I could take this darkness that has settled into my being over the last few weeks and kick it straight into oblivion, into the abyss from which it sprung. It has robbed me of sleep. It has taken my calm. It has driven me to consuming way too much chocolate and to long-overcome habits of rolling my eyes and sucking my teeth and impatience with the world. It has made me so unlike me. I wish I could pull myself up to dance on clouds and sing on rooftops and never, ever apologize for being too joyful. I wish God would release me from the grips of darkness. I wish He hadn’t invited me to let it steep. To let it all rise to the surface—the grief and vile feelings, the suppressed hurt and trauma that I have stuffed too far down because I don’t have the energy or capacity to deal. I wish I didn’t have to confront the darkness. I wish I didn’t have to do the hard work of grappling with it and wrestling with it. We know Light wins. Light always wins, so why not skip the drama and just win already? Ugh! I wish I didn’t have to sit with the darkness, especially when just a flicker of His light is enough.

About the Image: My sunflower-loving, Wildflowers: Blooming in Community friend, Jamise L, sent the beautiful photo-card to me shortly after my father’s passing. Having lost her own father five years ago, she is well-acquainted with the journey. Her note offered comfort, love, and a shoulder to lean on. Thanks for the sunshine, Jamise!

My Golden Reminder to #facethesun

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Golden Hour 1-B

Today is the fourth anniversary of my sister Lori’s passing, so, predictably, I woke up in the grips of sadness. I wanted to spend the day in quiet contemplation, perhaps, dreaming in purple, but Monday means necessary work. I was not exactly looking forward to a long “working meeting” day and wondered how in the world I would get through, but God reminded me that work is sacred and that as long as I continued “working for Him,” He would do His part in helping me feel safe, focused, and strong enough to get through. 

After a gloomy weekend, the sun is shining brightly, an invitation for me to glow in the moment. I am thankful for this moment. Though grieving the loss, I am grateful for Lori’s beautiful life.

I crafted the sunflower in today’s post for the Week 36: Golden Hour prompt for 52Frames. Unable to find a good “golden hour” to shoot in, I spent a figurative golden hour with this sunflower. It is just the image I need to have in my mind–a sunny reminder to change my focus or #facethesun [the Son of God] when I encounter the unpleasant moments of life.

Musings from My Younger Self | Crucified

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Cross-3 wm

Today, I am sharing two short poems, both written when I was 16. The common thread is their reference to Christ and the crucifixion. One is written from the perspective of a witness to the crucifixion; the other underscores how we participate in his crucifixion over and over again. 

I Remember
Chandra Lynn (Age: 16)

I remember His face and His questioning eyes.
I remember the tear stains that streaked His face.
I remember the last words which He uttered.
I remember Him lowering His head to die.

Crucified, My Lord
Chandra Lynn (Age: 16)

The blood that spilled from His side
and from His piercéd hands
was more agonizing
than it was the first time—
I’d crucified Him again.

I don’t remember the context of my writing “Crucified,” but I do recall that “I Remember” was written for a creative writing class my junior year in high school. The assignment was to write a short poem, in which each line began with the words, “I Remember.” 

Be sure to tune in tomorrow. I’ll share one more “musing from my younger self” before moving to another topic in my effort to post every day leading to my blogiversary.

Ciao!