Beauty

Taking up Space

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

When I hear the phrase “taking up space” it automatically sends out a negative vibe.  It speaks to being too much, useless, unnecessary and in the way. It calls up feelings of being unwanted and blocking or taking away from someone or something else of more value and importance; that what is being offered is of no consequence, and the need to be silent and unseen.

I wonder how many people go about their day feeling like they take up space. I have and sometimes still do; like the air we breathe in was really meant for someone else and our presence is a nuisance. It is hurtful, dismissive, and lonely.

So, what if we turned the narrative around and thought of taking up space as a positive and important part of living, the very thing we were created to do?

I love how God weaves unconditional love, purpose, and immense value into His narrative about each of us. It isn’t selfish or arrogant to believe what our Creator says about us! It is hard to live in this world and He knows that. He knows what it’s like to be us because He became like us, lived among us in a physical body with all the good and bad that goes along with that.  Fully man and fully God. He knows how rejection, cruel words, dismissive attitudes and being unvalued and hated feels. He knew and knows the way it wounds and taints everything when you are told or made to feel that the physical space you occupy is wasted, unseen and not accepted – as if you have no voice and will never be heard.  

I came across these Bible verses and believe they are a beautiful example of how important we are and how much the world needs us to take up space.

Luke 12:7 NLT “And the very hairs on your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows.”

Psalm 139:13-14 NLT “You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it.”

Isaiah 40:31 NLT “But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.”

2 Timothy 1:7 NLT “For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.”

Joshua 1:9 NLT “This is my command—be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.”

John 10:28-29 NLT “I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one can snatch them away from me, for my Father has given them to me, and he is more powerful than anyone else. No one can snatch them from the Father’s hand.”

Isaiah 46:4 NLT “I will be your God throughout your lifetime—until your hair is white with age. I made you, and I will care for you. I will carry you along and save you.”

Do you see how treasured we are and how very valuable? We were created to fill a specific place in this world; to use our voices. God commands us to be strong and courageous! He promises to never leave us, to carry us and care for us. He assures us we will never be snatched away, shushed, pushed to the back, ignored, or minimized in His sight.  We are seen, known, and deeply loved.

So, let’s find courage to take up space in a bold, strong, and kind way; to no longer apologize for our voice, our breath, our strength, and our calling. What if we help others take up space? We can focus on loving ourselves in all our quirky, weird beauty, trust God with the details and hang onto Him when the road gets bumpy. Watch what happens when we sing the song He put in our spirits to bless and enhance our spaces and the space around us. It will be a thing of beauty.

My Garden

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

My garden is a quiet place; a tranquil oasis that beckons when my mind and body are overwhelmed, parched and in need of peace.  The haphazard, random way I choose the spot for each plant may feel a bit chaotic to the more organized and regimented soul, but for me, I find immense peace and joy in the random and untamed order of it all. There is peace and rest in the chaos. 

The purple Catmint and Lantana along with the bright yellow Yarrow are a riot of tumbling blooms that spread as they wish; seeming to luxuriate in their boldness to overtake what they will. The white Guara, reaching high, looks like little butterflies dancing about on the wavy stems. The gentle Lavender is unassuming and lovely yet dominates its corner of the garden. The Sage, Fuchsia, Freesia, Primrose, and Geranium show off gorgeous splashes of purples, reds, pinks, and yellows, while the stately ferns are calming with their greenery.  A favorite scent of Jasmine wafts on the air as it climbs the fence and trellis.

There are fairies, angels, memorials to beloved pets and random garden décor that also grace my garden. Seeing them peeking out from around a mass of flowers makes me smile. The unexpected amid chaos and beauty…

Chattering and bubbly, the 3-tier fountain splashes and soothes; water cascading down the pineapple top tier, beckoning birds to take a sip and a bath. It’s calming to watch and listen as they bathe, call, and survey the garden, hunting for choice grubs and seeds. Two more birdbaths are placed throughout the yard to host birds, as well as squirrels, opossums, bees, and the occasional neighborhood cat.

The tall, purple-bloomed Butterfly Bush and the Fuji apple tree provide shade for the stone bench underneath their branches. It’s in another part of the garden which provides a different perspective; one can feel hidden, and a bit removed while resting there.

When it’s time to do some pruning, the honeybees and large black and yellow bumblebees allow me access to their plants while keeping a sharp eye on my activity.  Some fly up near my head and hover there, inspecting me and gauging my intentions. Respect and harmony in the garden.

Sitting at the wood picnic table I watch all the garden life and activity. Nourishment, community, rest, and safety happen here, as God’s creatures bathe, pollinate, eat, and gossip, doing what they were made to do. I love being part of it all, in my little slice of nature.

Perhaps if you close your eyes, you will hear the chatter of the birds as they gossip, sip and search for breakfast along the fence and under the flowers. Maybe you will discover a hidden fairy or turtle and see the busy bees flitting with purpose from bloom to bloom. The perky splash of the 3-tiered fountain might soothe and restore peace to your soul. Some of the heaviness you carry might lift, as you listen to the bold, russet squirrels scolding the big, black crows over peanuts; the scent of Jasmine swirling around you on the puffy breeze.

The tinkling wind chimes add their flavor of peace, as all the elements of the garden blend beautifully, order yet chaos, to bring serenity and restoration to a tired soul. The Creator uses this small oasis, in the middle of a neighborhood, to blend the right mix of joy, rest, peace and chuckles at creature antics to refresh and restore the spirit. Now it’s time to begin the day and hide in my heart the peace and refreshment I found in my garden.

Soul Garden

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

In the early light of this Spring morning, I survey my garden. Hot coffee warms my chilled hands. Birds line up along the edge of the fence and sit in the leafy, budding plum tree. The squirrels peer and chatter from the branches of the fig and apple trees, letting me know I’m late. They wait for the thistle, peanuts and cracked corn they expect me to toss out for them.

From my seat at the patio table, I see that the new plants I have carefully placed in the earth, along with the returning perennials, are thriving and sending up their tender shoots.  The time, energy, sweat and joy that fertilized them is paying off. It is exciting to see new life and growth return after a season of quiet resting.

Mother Nature begins her whispering and coaxing, and the tender new growth responds. So much happens below the surface, before these tender stems and leaves are ready to push upward and outward. Root systems are established and require a certain amount of strength and depth before sending up the shoots. It’s all carefully orchestrated and set in motion when the Creator determines the timing is just right.

As I admire my garden, a thought begins to take shape in my mind, and I wonder where Jesus is going with it. What if the fellow humans I encounter in life, are like a garden of the soul? I start with a plot of earth and carefully turn, work, and fertilize the dirt with time, tears, laughter, and love. As I bump up against these people, I smile in delight as I find just the ones to add to my soul garden. They fit perfectly! I scoop them up, carefully and gently planting them; nurturing, and tending, removing weeds and obstacles, giving time and attention. I watch as tendrils of common interest, branches of stability and longevity, flowers of laughter, buds of adventure, and the fragrance of kindness and vulnerability perfume my garden. Everything blends well and the beauty is nourishing to my soul. Peaceful. Safe. I belong.

However, not all the flowers and bushes are thriving and healthy in my soul garden. Some are old, spent and have lived out their flowering season, taking up the space where another might thrive. The annuals were there for a season and won’t return but leave behind nice memories. Some have become hardened, woody, and impenetrable, no longer blooming, or showing any growth.  Others stubbornly resist any sort of pruning, fertilizing or change and stay stumped and thwarted, no longer lovely.  The Master Gardener says it is time to begin weeding.

Weeding the soul garden can be sad, hard, and frightening, but necessary. I get to choose, and so do you, who and what is allowed to take up space there. These choices can mean life, joy and flourishing for our souls or stunted growth, disappointment and hurt.  There is a lot that is bound up in the roots of who I allow in that sacred place. Layer upon layer of energy, laughter, tears, shared history, and effort are mixed and blended to keep it all alive. The dying back, pruning and even the uprooting of those that were carefully planted, can be brutal and harsh, leaving a hole and a void for loneliness to sprout up.

I believe that Jesus views that hole and the loneliness as a prime plot of land in which to plant Himself. It is impossible to have a need that He cannot meet. In the loneliness of the weeding season, He will pour into us all of Himself.  He is enough.  We are seen, we are safe, and we are known. Our needs will be met, and our roots will be strengthened and built up for the growing season that is to come. The dirt in our soul garden will be nurtured and watered with His wisdom, healing, and joy, but He will sift, filter, and discard all that is not in sync with His master plan. That is painful, yet we know there is beauty in this pain. He knows why a once vibrant and healthy-looking part of our soul garden now needs to be pruned or uprooted and completely removed. He sees all that is going on underneath the surface, where growth takes place and roots either thrive or rot.  He knows when our souls need a respite from nurturing others, so we can be nurtured, replenished, and tended to with love, attention, and mercy by the Master Gardener. The world and all that is in it, is still at His beck and call. He is fully aware of those others who are coming along in the next seasons; those who will once again cause us to gasp, smile and make room in our garden for a bloom with the exact fragrance needed, in just the right season, for our souls to thrive. There is peace in knowing that after an anonymous winter of quiet cultivation by our Father, a lovely, bursting spring is waiting to captivate us with the joy of new growth and unexpected blooms. Psalm 126:5-6 (New Living Translation) says, “those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy. They weep as they go to plant their seed, but they sing as they return with the harvest.”

Look to the Clouds

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

The summer morning is warm with a brilliant, Robin-egg blue sky. The warm dirt under my young back is soft, yet bumpy with divots, small rocks and tamped down grasses. It smells comforting, earthy and old. It feels safe.

The air is warm and a bit close, broken up by the occasional snippet of breeze, that lazily puffs over me in my earthy spot; grasses and wildflowers tossing and bobbing as the breeze slips through them, forcing movement on this indolent summer morning.

I fancy myself a cat; lazy, snooze-y and hidden from view; yet spying and aware of all that is going on around my little nest.

There is a Blue Jay, raucous and naughty, dipping and darting as she looks for her breakfast in the oak trees. She is not afraid of disturbing the more stately Robins and Sparrows that are seeking out their morning meals. The birds do not notice me in my lair and continue about their morning business; or maybe they do…

A variety of ducks and some Canadian geese glide by on the rippled water of the canal just a few feet away from me; blackberry brambles and other sticker bushes guard its banks like stubborn sentries. You can get through to the water, if you dare to pass through them. Brave creatures have carved paths under and through these sentries, to make their way to the water and safety. Their dens are cozy and well protected. Easy access to tiny fish, frogs and maybe crawdads.

Ah! There is the distinctive splash of the muskrat, slipping through the cloudy waters of the canal. His path can be traced by following his bubbles, as he searches below the waters for his breakfast. Routine. Safe. Ordinary.

Looking to the sky from my child-sized hollow in the summer faded grasses, I notice the white, marshmallow-like clouds floating past. They are fascinating! Some are huge and billowy, while others are small, wispy and seem to vanish or meld into bigger clouds nearby; as if swallowed up.

Imagination has free reign while cloud watching. My mind can wander and make up all sorts of fantastical stories. I see one cloud that at first glance, is just big, fluffy and non-descript; but then it emerges; a boat with a crooked, tilted mast and a scraggly, wispy sail. Peeking over the side of the boat, is a horse’s head and strange looking bird. What stories that boat has to tell! Another cloud is almost perfectly round, except for one edge that has a thin, feathery tail wafting off to the right; like a child’s balloon rushing off in the wind on exciting adventures.

Breaking up the daydreams, the sleek, black cat saunters into my grassy hideout, curious and nosey; casually attacking a random leaf, sniffing around my hideaway; demanding pets and chin scratches. Having determined a spot near my head as acceptable, she settles in for a drowsy rest, as the warm morning is becoming a hot, summer afternoon. The shade is moving with the shifting sun, flooding my little earth-nest with a bit too much heat and light. Maybe it’s time to get the sprinklers out, as another dreamy, lazy, hot, Northern California summer day plods along into the next one.

Summer as a child was pleasant and predictable with routine, yet full of adventure by the canal behind my house. Lovely memories of feeding ducks and meeting the new ducklings each summer, picking blackberries and making pies, cobblers and jams, taking long walks along the grassy, wildflower laden paths near the canal bank. It felt joyful, exciting and new; yet familiar and safe in that familiarity. I recapture bits and pieces of those feelings, when as an adult, I revisit the canal and all its creatures, scents and sounds, as I relax and observe from the patio swing or from the lone bench nestled under an old oak, with a blue wind chime tinkling; ducks, geese, river otters and muskrats going about their business. The familiarity soothes and calms. Tilting my head back to feel the sun, I allow the warmth to penetrate and loosen the chilled, hardened, practical places my adult mind has created. Sometimes life forces that on us, just to survive the onslaughts of life. Peering up through the gnarled, old branches of the oak tree, I see clouds. Puffed, billowing, white clouds and I remember my child-self lying in the tall, warm grasses, surrounded by the stout wildflowers and nosey cats. Content and care-free. I remember the day dreams and simple joy of seeing life, nature, and me in the cloud shapes, imagining the Creator with his paintbrush, delighting me with adventures and laughing as each stroke of His brush changed everything. There is peace and contentment for an exhausted, stressed, adult mind, when I simply look to the clouds and allow that child-like joy and imagination to have its way for a bit, and laugh with my Creator as He fills the sky with Himself.

Blessed

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

My new coffee mug has the word Blessed inscribed across the front of it; letters big and bold, like a confident declaration. When I saw that mug on the shelf, it called out to me. I had to have it; I want to feel blessed and be blessed.

This New Year’s morning, I sat at my favorite spot at my table, where I look outside my slider and watch the morning unfold. There is often a variety of early birds at the feeders who are singing, as they jostle for position, waiting their turn; sometimes with nice attitudes and other times, not. There are the other birds, scratching and scritching among the garden debris, ferreting out whatever treasures are hidden in the rich dirt. Watching these birds go about their daily business, I began to think about the word blessed. The dictionary says it means consecrated; holy; sacred; blissfully happy or contented. These words are beautiful. I do want to be these words, feel these words, live in these words.

I have often thought of living blessed and being blessed as something elusive, more like a thought or an elevated idea, than something I could truly capture, do and live inside of each day. As I pondered my birds and the beauty of a new morning, in a new year, I  began to see that the word blessed is not a higher thought on a difficult to achieve spiritual plane.

Imagine a typical day, in which you wake up and grab your coffee in your favorite mug. Perhaps you watch the morning unfold in front of you on your patio with a soft breeze floating past you; all kinds of sounds and scents in the air. What if during this peaceful time, you began to feel grateful that you are alive; able to see and smell and experience nature going about its business in the Divine order of things? Is that not be sacred and pure; bringing you bliss and contentment? What if during your ordinary day, you witness a startling and unusual act of kindness, that causes you to pause, maybe tear up and have your faith in humanity and goodness restored, if even for a moment? Is that not holy? Is that intersection of the Divine and the human, not sacred ground? Hmmm. I wonder when I’m making dinner, if I play worship music that brings me into the Divine presence of Jesus, or when I pour out my heart to my Father – the good, the terrible, the truth of my heart – on a walk in my neighborhood, if those places become sacred, holy, and divine. Blessed. Blissful happiness, contentment.

But…what if the day isn’t full of things that make me blissfully happy and content? The car accident that totals the car, the child that makes a very poor choice that has lasting ramifications and you see no clear way out of it. Maybe cruel words were hurled in the heat of the moment and they can’t be taken back. Maybe there is a diagnosis you never saw coming. Is there room here to declare “I am blessed?” Yes. Yes, you can declare yourself blessed. Some blessings come after the hurt and wounds. The Divine often shows up in miraculous ways, turning devastation into glory, failure into victory, wounding into strength and the impossible into something to be remembered in awe and reverence, because there seemed to be no good ending, yet there was.  I truly believe that to live blessed, one has to be alert and try to find it. It won’t always show up immediately and may not be dressed up in blissful happiness and a cute outfit. It may come dirty, scuffed up, straggling and a bit off kilter, but I do believe it will come. I have seen it come in both forms and both are equally holy, sacred, consecrated. Blessed.

At this start of 2020, I want to live expecting to be a blessed person. I’m not good at it yet, I confess, but I want to be. I want to bloom where I am planted and thrive there, no matter what it looks like. Maybe we can do this together? I absolutely believe that the holy, divine, sacred and blissful happiness is all around us, waiting with open arms for us to slow down and seek it. What is sought will be found. May we see it, grab hold and never let go!

 

Something About the Rain

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

There’s something lovely about the rain, isn’t there? That moment when the first anticipated drops touch your face, hair, eyes.  Refreshing. It brings joy, despite a fully or partially cloud-hidden sun, trying to peep through. You know it’s there, the sun, but it’s hidden. It’s a bit mysterious to wonder what the sun might be up to up there, veiled from sight.

Or hearing those first drops on the patio cover in the wee morning hours; pattering, plopping; like a sky-song flowing down. So soothing, as I lie in bed. The blankets covering me, I am enveloped in warmth and safety, listening to nature’s lullaby.

Sometimes the dreary sky and rain damp air offers the unmistakable scent of clean; washed and rinsed; a sort of gentle, yet sometimes fierce and unrelenting, opening of the heavens; as if Creator is gifting a new start, a clean slate. All is well, the old is gone and here is the new.  Life giving water. Living water. Ancient and elemental.

The sound of the faithful pattering, dripping and beating of a good steady rain soothes and gentles the spirit and often my hectic mind, with nature’s rhythms; like an intentional chorus put on repeat. Truly one of my favorite sounds and scents.

Something about the rain dredges up childhood memories of wildly exciting, yet terrifying thunder and lightning storms, windows rattling and trembling. Such an electric feeling of exhilaration and fear, joy and safety; intertwining emotions that shouldn’t mix well together, but they do, when nature moves and does her thing. It is deep and wild. I love it.

Memories drift up of hot summer days, when a sudden rain storm cools and refreshes with the unforgettable scent of rain on hot sidewalks. That is childhood.

Something about the rain and wind and the slashing at trees, rose bushes and the apple tree reminds me that not everything in life is predictable and controllable. It’s not tamable and quieted and soothed, but roars and bucks and thrashes at the whim of the One who commands it. There is such beauty and raw power there. It is thrilling and terrifying; beautiful and fierce and unrelenting as it does the Creator’s bidding, yet it draws me in. Nature, all of it, in its pure undiluted elemental form, nourishes my soul like nothing else. It’s a God-gift I treasure and ponder. The mystery of it speaks depth to my soul. I will never get enough of it. There is just something about the rain…

Perspective

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

Complaints. We all have them, don’t we? Some complaints are minor, daily life annoyances that come on strong, but fade quickly, such as; irritating drivers, long lines at the Starbucks drive thru, internet annoyances and teenage attitudes. Then there are those other complaints. The ones that stem from something deeper than mundane irritants; like unmet expectations, disappointments, loss, festering, soul deep wounds, simmering anger, injustice, illness and the list goes on.  Personally, I have experienced all these deeper complaints and some are still ongoing.  The feelings of frustration, anger and resentment that well up from these complaints can easily taint every interaction, every experience and every relationship. Our filters get off kilter and life becomes skewed. This is a hard and debilitating way to live.

Recently, I came upon this jewel.  It leaped off the pages of my Bible, like it had been waiting between the closed pages for the perfect time to reveal itself. I read it and gulped in a breath, and read it again. It spoke to my heart.

Habakkuk 2:1

I will climb up into my watchtower now and wait to see what the Lord will say to me and how he will answer my complaint.

I love imagery and so I sat still, closed my eyes and visualized myself actually climbing up into a watchtower. I noticed as I ascended, that things began to change. I wasn’t looking at the landscape in the same way, because my perspective was changing as I went higher up.  Mind you, the complaint was still the same, the geography of the problems hadn’t changed; however, the way I saw them, did change. In the watchtower, I am safe, secure, protected. I have a 360 degree view of the terrain. I see how the landscape melds and molds together, how certain things have to happen and have to “be”, before other things can exist. If there is a mountain, there is often an uphill climb that must take place, before one can reach the pinnacle, just as there is then a descent, sometimes into a valley or depression, that must be traversed, before coming into a wide open place; a space that is a bit easier to walk; safer, restful perhaps…

As I saw more of the surrounding land, I realized it was quite beautiful, how it all ran together in a sort of harmony. Rugged and dangerous mixed in with lovely, breathtaking, restful places; places that were safe and easy; places that were dangerous and even treacherous in spots. It all worked together, somehow, to be beautiful. Never minimizing or mocking the pain, the hurt and the loss that life and situations bring us, but focusing on a different perspective; like a tapestry that takes shape and becomes lovely, when all the threads are woven together just as they need to be; even if the process is long and tedious and often unclear.

I believe God wants us to bring all the hurt, rage, fear and injustice straight to Him. He already knows.  When we lay it before Him, and go up into our watchtower and wait for His answer, He gives us a new view; His divine perspective. Yes, the problems are still there; yes it still hurts and frustrates and enrages, yet…when we get just a glimpse of the full picture, when we look behind and see where we have come and remember all He HAS done, it gives all that lies ahead a new hue; a new filter through which to view our current complaints. He is with us. Always.

I picture the watchtower and the idea of going up into it, as a symbol of leaning into Jesus and getting closer to Him. There is safety there in Jesus, our watchtower. As we lay all the junk out before Him, saying “Well, here You go. This is all of it. I’m tired of trying to make it on my own with this stuff. I have no idea what to do with it, why You have allowed it, but here, please take it.”, that release allows Divine Perspective to come in. It allows it to heal, mend and counsel; to comfort, love and change the view of the landscape, to one of hope, healing and transformation. It takes time and patience and will produce a whole new level of trust. I have found immense comfort and even joy, yes joy!, when I head up into the watchtower and wait. Peace is always there. Beauty will follow. When I see from a Divine perspective, I become aware that nothing has been wasted. It was all necessary for what is to come, to unfold. Alpha, Omega; beginning and the end.

Camping in the Woods

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

There is nothing quite like the smell of the woods! Earthy and old, all-knowing and rich. Divine creation.

Deep inhalation floods the senses with all sorts of stimulation and primal memories; life, connection, ancient Earth rhythms.  There is something nourishing here that feeds the soul; rejuvenating, expansive, positive, and elemental. Back to our roots.

The canvas camp chair nestled in just the right spot under a giant Redwood beckons – “Come, sit, be!”

The pace of these old, wise trees slows the heart and busy mind; infuses stillness and awareness and a lovely sense of restful calm.

Leaning back and looking up, the eye sees the forever journey upward of these majestic trees; always yearning and following their source of Life – the Light. But not in a helter-skelter, chaotic way. No. The trees are stately, purposeful and fierce in their growth. Some have grown around, over, under or through whatever obstacles keep them from their Source. They know how to get there and do it unwaveringly, without frantic attempts and harebrained scheming.  There is a lesson here in the trees for me. I feel it in my bones.

Life in the woods, on the surface, can seem frenetic, but a deeper, more careful look reveals the opposite. The birds, squirrels, raccoons and other scurriers, big and small, are actually quite organized and methodical in how they go about their Creator-given tasks. Fascinating. Humbling. Teachable. Complete trust.

My Creator has given me a specific task. Am I frantic in the doing? Can I trust that by ever following my Source of Light, I will accomplish my aim? I will be enough?

If one is truly quiet, even for a moment, one can hear Nature growing, doing its nature thing; cracks and snaps of branches bowing under the weight of a naughty, scolding Jay; the tiny rustle of a fern frond, as an invisible creature winds its way on a well- worn path; the sibilant splash of a hidden stream flowing from its source high above – who knows what adventures it experienced on its way down stream.  The imagination can run wild here! That is healing.

Dusk deepens in the woods and Nature’s life sounds change from the busy afternoon.  There is a shift in the light and the night dwellers begin to venture out with different calls and purposes, as the day timers wind down and begin their settling in. Perfect rhythm. All in alignment.

Time for a campfire!

Sticks, old dried leaves and moss from the forest floor, make a perfect bed for the larger sticks and logs to rest upon. Fire!

Slowly it ignites and consumes the small sticks and random pieces of detritus that were thrown in the fire ring.  The fledgling fire is mesmerizing to watch, as flames lick and snap and dart through the wood, finding the best route and igniting all in its path.

The warmth and the crackling, snapping and popping sounds recall happy memories of camping trips gone by; of long hikes and fishing, stories and laughter by the fire late into the night or of simple, quite evenings of lulled conversation and companionable silence, as each one is captivated by the warmth and mystery of fire. 

The forest is just as active at night as it is by day, but one must listen more carefully and purposefully to know it. Nocturnal hunters, prowlers and the curious are all around, going about their business. I wonder what they imagine, as they watch us, undetected, from the dark woods.

Sleep beckons, so off to bed, soothed to sleep by the living forest.

Morning comes very early in the woods. Creatures up early to welcome the new day and begin again their Creator-given work.

Bird calls sound joyful and insistent as day breaks. “Up, up, up!” They seem to shout. Nothing is wasted, every minute important in its own way, because this is survival. This is life.

So again, begins another day camping in the woods. The adventures are endless and so are the lessons.

What will you come back with? Peace? Purpose? A reset spirit? I believe the forest is one of our Creator-given ways to rebalance and reset from our frenzied attempts to create a path we were never meant to travel…

Just some truth…

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

Good morning friends, old and new! As I sit and drink my lovely coffee this morning in my quiet house, listening to snoring dogs and calling birds, some thoughts are hovering on my mind and heart. As I settle them in and begin to absorb and ponder them, I know that these truths are definitely a reminder for me; but I also wonder, if maybe, you need to hear this, too.

God loves you. He made you, He knows everything about you and loves all of it. Every single inch. Your weaknesses and struggles are not driving Him away from you. He is there always, as close as your next breath. Go ahead, inhale. You are seen and known; you have God’s undivided attention. You have tremendous value and purpose. You are here for a reason; you are not a mistake or a random happening. There is a path carefully laid out for you. It for you and no one else. The heart of the Father knew exactly what He was doing when you were created to walk that path and make a difference to those in your sphere. You are needed. Do you know that there are conversations happening, in heaven, about you? You are always on His mind, engraved on His hands and His heart.

Those places in your heart that hurt; the place in your soul that has been so wounded, has not gone unnoticed by God. He saw, He knows and He grieves. If you give it to Him, He will take it and redeem it; He wants to do that for you. Don’t you know that is why He came? For you! He can restore and transform those places that seem too lost, too broken, too ugly. Those places will become places of beauty in His hands. The secret hurt isn’t hidden from Him. He knows all about any anger and hatred; injustice, bitterness and resentments; failures and victories and joyful A-ha moments. He was and is there for every single moment. You are not alone.

He looks on you with eyes of love, compassion, joy and mercy. You are His child. Talk to Him. He loves to hear our voices; like melodies and harmonies in His ears. To our ears, the song may sound dreadfully out of tune, but the sound of your voice, my voice, is like incense to our Father. It is a thing of beauty when we speak to Him and He responds; deep calls to deep; Spirit speaking to spirit. It is a holy communion, because even when we do not have the words to speak, His Spirit is there and He knows. He hears. He understands. No big words, wild gestures, loud voices are needed with your Father. He is there in the silence when there are just no human words. Sometimes just speaking His name is enough.

“The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.” Zephaniah 3:17

Autumn in the Park

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

I love how the autumn light filters and dances through the red and gold leaves; a light, pixie-like breeze gently rustling them, sending a few floating lazily to the ground.

Standing still for a moment, taking in the smell, the light, the feel of that breeze lightly brushing my skin, I feel my shoulders relax and drop down a bit as I smile and breathe deeply.

The packed dirt and gravel path looks so inviting; it’s already claimed other nature loving souls this morning, who heeded the call to get out and be refreshed; joggers, walkers, meanderers; their faces reflecting the serenity that I’m desperate for today.

Preoccupied squirrels with fluffy brown tails are busy with their autumn tasks; digging, ruffling, burying their treasures. They make me happy. In an odd way, it is calming and peaceful to see them hard at work, yet seeming to revel in the autumn air and changing season as much as I am; their purposeful movements interspersed with dramatic bouts of scampering, scolding and tail waving.

The crunch of small rocks and dried leaves makes a pleasing sound as I walk the park. Haphazardly scattered along the pathway, among the rocks and sticks and other seasonal detritus, I am delighted to find bright red and orange leaves, which at first sight seem random, yet cause me to marvel at Mother Nature and the seemingly perfect placement of her handiwork. Lovely. A bright spot on the path, a reminder to be alert and observe, “there is beauty on your path but you must watch for it.”

What else might I be missing? I still my mind and watch and listen and smell; I observe with eyes that are looking for small joys and beauty; the things so ordinary that they are overlooked, yet are packed with meaning, novelty and beauty.

Laughter. I hear it. Toddlers so delighted with their game of hide and seek that they shriek out their joy and reveal their hiding spaces; feeling confident and protected as they run full speed through the grass, filling their young lungs with air and collapsing in a giggling heap with their gasping parents close behind. This. This is living. Exhausting oneself with pure happiness!

There is the man on the shady bench with his dog; a picture of contentment as he strokes the white head of his poodle and talks gently to it. His face is serene and his posture relaxed; the dog lying still observing us walkers, joggers and meanderers. Easy companionship.

I see the determined jogger, who runs past with heavy breathing and intense focus on her path, yet takes a moment to make eye contact, smile and chuff out a hello! Determined, yet aware.

From one vantage point at the far end of the path, I see the entire park open up in front of me. I feel joyful. I can’t help but smile wide at the deep green of the grassy area, where delighted dogs romp and chase far flung Frisbees, frisking around their guardians; where an older couple strolls hand in hand, taking in the park and all its beauty, totally unhurried; the huge mix of old trees that offer shade and respite for those enjoying the morning – pines, oaks and other varieties – the playground with excited children busy at play, imagining themselves invincible as they climb the slide ladder.

This morning walk in the park helped me shed a feeling of heaviness I did not realize I had been hauling around with me. I feel relaxed, open and so light; aware of just how much the ordinary is designed to bring joy, peace and a sense of centering, but we must have our senses ready to receive it. Our Creator knew just what He was up to, down to every slight detail; so intricate, yet so often overlooked, as we search out something huge and wild and shattering to bring back our peace and our sense of normalcy, when all we need is right in front of us, waiting to be seen with new eyes and fresh appreciation. Nature is calling, can you hear her?