fear

Expectations

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

At times, the clamor of expectations, people, and agendas become overwhelming. I get overloaded and there seems to be no escape. Have you been there?

Some expectations are of my own making – the voice telling me what I “should” be doing and how I am falling short of that “should”. Then, there are external expectations from a myriad of places – family, friends, jobs, church, and groups we belong to that tell us that in order to be a good and successful member we “must” …whatever the current trend. The pressure is heavy, unrealistic, and definitely not manageable. Burnout lurks and bides its time, knowing that before long something has to give, and it is often me and you.

Expectation is sly in how it approaches me. It doesn’t come bashing, barging and obnoxious…no, that is way too obvious. Slowly, methodically, inch by inch the overwhelm advances. At times it looks flashy, exciting and brings an energy of anticipation, progress, and fitting in. Other times it will gently pop up on my radar as something noble that needs my attention; something worthwhile and necessary. Oh how well expectation knows me and my MO. People pleasing, peace-making, putting others first and myself low on the list because that’s what good, Christian women do, right? Selfless, cheek turning, emptying our cups until there’s literally nothing left, permitting others to continuously take, and making sure to meet their demands. Don’t make a wave or ripple that might disturb another, no boundary setting because that upsets people and throws them off-kilter. It’s my job to make sure everyone’s “kilters” are comfy and cozy, right? Hmmm. I am challenging that. It isn’t easy or second nature to me. It’s a learning process and a change in perspective. There is balance and I’m trying to find it.

As expectation advances and slithers in, things that are important to me and fill my cup, bringing me joy, rest, and contentment tend to wither. With my energy going to these nebulous expectations of others and society, my peace, calm and contentment begin running dry. Things I once enjoyed and needed to recharge, refill, and simply be happy are scarce and hard to find. This is not the heart of my Father. This anxious striving and relentless giving entangle, and snare as my thoughts become anxious and dissatisfied. All the working and planning never seem to be enough.

This is where the One who knows me best begins to whisper in the lovely sunrise greeting me as I’m fixing my coffee – “slow down a bit, savor the warm deliciousness a bit longer.” The Whisper enchants me with bright flowers blooming in my garden – “take a walk among the flowers and loosen your stiff shoulders and neck.” The critters on the patio that delight me with their antics bring a smile to my face. Joy and contentment move to the forefront as emails, texts and advertising strategies are put in their proper place in the grand scheme of my life and the plans You have for me. Scriptures hidden in my heart begin to surface as my face is turned toward You once again, with the reminder to “Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you”. 1  

Living out the passions and dreams our Creator put in our hearts does not require us to lose ourselves in the doing. We were not created to constantly strive, fix, and do to the point of burning out and withering our spirits. Our Father delights in our joy, peace, and contentment. He placed that delight in us so we can enjoy sunsets, the beach, a hike in the woods, good coffee, humor, rest, and time to just be with Him, as He speaks out all that our parched spirits crave. We are enough and can rest without guilt seeping in to taint the peace that His presence offers us. “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.”2

It is good to set healthy boundaries that protect our minds, hearts, and bodies. It is ok to let go of expectations that take away from faith and trusting Him – that rob us of our peace, safety, the passion in our hearts and our purpose. Those expectations are not from Him. “I am leaving you with a gift – peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid.”3

  1. 1 Peter 5:7
  2. Galatians 5:22-23
  3. John 14:27

Hallowed

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

To make holy; consecrated.

To me, the word hallowed evokes a mysterious and magical feeling. Visions swirl in my mind of sacred, lovely light, and silence – a sense of something in the atmosphere that crackles with divine prophesy. Holy ground, a place where angels and heavenly beings tread.

In my limited understanding of all things Divine, these images and feelings are evoked by the knowledge that a place deemed hallowed has been consecrated and made holy by the divine presence of God. His actual presence in a place.

Imagine a quiet neighborhood in the early morning hours, still sleepy from a night of peaceful rest. A man and his dog venture out for their morning constitutional. The beauty of the morning, the sleepy quiet of the houses as they walk, and the cool feel of the air on his skin brings a smile to his face and a lightness to his steps. There are some heavy things weighing on him and this lovely morning soothes his spirit and invites conversation with the Creator. As he spills his fears and concerns to his Father, he is enveloped in such peace; peace that shouldn’t be there in light of his circumstances and worry yet it is. The Father soothes, calms, and speaks provision and safety into his tired soul. Hallowed.

There is the woman on her bike, following the paved path through the city on her way to work. The busy street, impatient drivers, and slow-moving pedestrians blur as she frets over the presentation she will be giving to new clients, in a few hours. Is she prepared? Did she remember to hit all the important points? Will what she says make sense? As her mind tosses and panic tries to surface, she lifts up a quick prayer asking for wisdom, clarity, and courage. As she pedals, her thoughts come together more clearly as she is reminded of the hard work she put into this, the success she’s had in the past, and that she is enough and deeply loved. Her worries dim and fade. Excitement replaces fear as her tense shoulders and insides relax. The Lord is with her, she can do this. Hallowed.

A long day of hiking and rafting is complete. Night is falling in the campground. The campfire dances and sparks, giving off a warm, happy glow. As s’more fixings are passed between them, the older couple settles into their camp chairs to relax and unwind before heading to bed.  This is their favorite way to vacation. The peace of the Redwoods falls about them, filling them with a sense of belonging and joy. They find peace in nature. It restores them like nothing else. As they sit listening to the forest wind down for the night, lost in their thoughts, a comforting and mysterious feeling of being wrapped up and carefully tended to fill their souls. They know they are in the presence of the Holy One. Their little campground in the Redwoods is hallowed ground. The Creator is everywhere, whispering peace in the wind sighing through the tree branches, singing provision as His creatures scout and find nourishment in the nooks and crannies of the forest floor, and speaking joy into this journey of life in the snapping and crackling of the campfire. Hallowed ground.

Wherever life takes you today, I believe you will have myriad opportunities to be in the presence of the Divine; to walk, lie, and sit on hallowed ground as the Father whispers and shouts His love, protection, and presence. He is everywhere and Divine appointments are waiting for you.

Beginnings

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Happy New Year’s Eve! I wonder how you are doing in these strange, limbo, off kilter in-between days – where the festive fanfare and anticipation of Christmas is fading and a new year of the unknown looms large? Where the once joyful, nostalgia of a decorated mantle, fragrant lit-up tree and Christmas music begins to grate just a touch because it’s lost the excitement and build up of emotions that only the holidays bring us…

It’s a strange and uncomfortable feeling each year. I never quite know what to do with it or what space to give it. What does it want from us and how do we reconcile and allow the deflated feelings of loss, nostalgia, let down and possibly regret co-mingle with the wonder, anticipation, and adventure of a brand-new year?

I am not one for making new year’s resolutions. I have new things I want to explore in this new season of life as an empty nester and some habits I’d like to redirect. I have plans for a second book, setting healthy boundaries in my relationships, meeting new people and some volunteering. All good things. There are specific words that over the past few weeks consistently pop into my mind. Change. Flexible. Gentle. Trust.

I am choosing to give these words space and permission to enter into 2023 with me. It isn’t easy. I want to know all the who, what, where, when, why and how. I like to rehearse, plan, and plot it out because that is what I usually do. It’s my M.O. It gives the façade of safety, but if I’m honest, it is based in fear and worry.

These words – change, flexible, gentle, trust – are not words I associate with myself – often quite the opposite. However, this year they fill me with curiosity and a sense of adventure; a sense of awe because I know that Jesus is standing at the threshold of my 2023. His scarred hands reaching for mine asking me to let go of regret, worry, expectations (especially of myself) and control. I’m being asked to trust Him with all that I see coming, all the worst-case scenarios that my mind likes to create, all the what-ifs and futile attempts to fix, control, and protect. He’s asking me to trust Him with myself and my loved ones.

Do I truly believe He has plans to prosper and not to harm, plans for hope and a future that is good, safe, and exactly what is needed? Yes, I do believe that. I want to learn to stop trusting in my own short-sighted understanding and in all ways acknowledge that He will direct my path and my family’s path. Will this be easy and trial free? No, life is hard, and things happen. Will I never allow worry, a stray wild thought, fear, or the need to control overwhelm me and set me back a bit? No. I won’t do this perfectly, but I will try to be gentle with my soul. Will I feel all the feels that go with living in this world and bumping up against others? Yes.

My hope for this year is that when situations and feelings knock at my heart’s door, I will learn to give them space, sit with them, and see them (yell at them, if needed) allowing them to teach me and letting them go into His hands.

I will pray this scripture over myself and my family in 2023 and wait in anticipation to see prayers answered, paths straightened, fear bow at His name, joy restored and peace to have room to heal and calm my heart. And rest, blessed rest.

Isaiah 61:3 NIV

“…to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of His splendor.”

“For 2023, may God help us all fast regrets and cease dragging old, dead things with us into the new, abundant life that Jesus’ birth, death, and resurrection made possible.” Dr. Alicia Britt Chole

Lessons from Cancer and Life…

~ Extravagant Hope ~ 2 Comments

Lessons from Cancer and Life

In November 2010, I was diagnosed with an aggressive, fast-moving breast cancer and immediately began an exhausting and terrifying set of surgeries and treatments ending in April 2012. Our lives were upended, exposed, and thrust into a trajectory of the unknown for over 2 years. That experience taught me so much and I will never forget. So many lessons learned – about myself, the resilience of the human body, the primal urge to survive and that in my frailty and weakness I am made strong in my Creator.

On April 26, 2012, at 2:15 pm, I was told, “You are cancer free!”

As this anniversary date approaches every year many things run through my mind. The random memories of the cancer center and the “one of a kind, not found anywhere else” smell of it, the taste of peppermint candies I sucked on in an attempt to mask the horrible taste of saline and chemo, the ice chips I held in my mouth to keep painful ulcers from forming (I cannot stand ice in my drinks or mouth to this day), the blanket I brought to keep warm during treatments and comfy pink slipper socks. I still hear the sound of radiation equipment being dialed into place with strange and other-worldly whirs, clicks and bleeps. It was a lonely feeling in the brightly lit, freezing radiation room as the technicians went behind thick layers of protective safety walls and I lay there exposed, cold, and numb willing the machine noises to stop; hoping I wouldn’t burn.

There are good and treasured memories of my faithful husband going with me to every treatment, while through the IVs and tubes, the meds flowed in or when a dear friend sat with me and prayed and chatted during a long treatment. The distraction of good company meant so much to me even though it was hard and uncomfortable for them.

Ahh, then there are the beautiful memories of my little 2nd grade boy asking me to hop on his bed as he tucked me in with blankets and got out his books to read to me. Blessed. Loved. Precious. This sweet boy is now a brave, courageous young man in the United States Army – respectful, strong, and absolutely determined with a kind and compassionate heart.

It meant the world to me when my sweet 6th grade girl would tell me about her day with the ups and downs of middle school, feeling so blessed she shared with me and praying so hard I would have years and years ahead of me to listen to her talk. She’s almost 24 now and out living her life – a beautiful, compassionate, strong, and amazing young woman with a kind and generous heart. God answered that prayer for more time with my family.

Through all the living I’ve done, I discovered I am physically strong. My body fought with everything it had to beat this invader named breast cancer. It endured extreme treatments, pain, panic, nausea, steroids, exhaustion, and hair loss but never stopped fighting. God gave me strength to make it through one more day, one more test, and one more treatment. He did it. He is absolutely faithful. His eyes never left me, and His tears mixed with my own as I was wrapped in His arms crying out my fear, rage, and frustration – wondering if I would die.

I am still learning to view my body through a different filter. I am proud of my scars. They shout out that a battle was waged and won. I am determined to be strong and healthy, so do what I love – hiking, biking, and all things outdoors.  I need to enjoy every single second of life I am given. So sometimes I choose to eat the dessert and not worry over whether or not I will look great in a swimsuit. I am alive and that is enough. Our days are numbered, and I want to take advantage of each one with those I fiercely love.

Despite days of deep sadness, fear of the unknown, rage, pain, and brain fog, I told myself I would get through this – that cancer would not win. Not this time. God absolutely gave me more than I could handle because we were never meant to walk out this life in our own strength. I chose to believe God would be with me through every test, every treatment, every bit of good and bad news. I held on to that and He proved Himself faithful, merciful, and compassionate. Yes, it was the hardest thing I have ever done. Yes, it put my body, mind, and soul to the ultimate test. I am an overcomer and so are you.

When other trials come along, like trials always do, I remind myself to look back on all that my Healer brought me through.  He infuses me with strength and courage. As a brand-new Army Mom, I feel lost, overwhelmed, and adrift in this new season. I am trying to draw on past fortitude, peace, strength, and flexibility to navigate all this new season of life throws at us. I battled cancer and I won; I can do this new thing because seasons past have given me a warrior heart and soul.  Fear, lack of control, paralyzing worry, loneliness and so much uncertainty is already rearing its head. My family and I are being forced to do life differently now and view it through a different lens.  

Life can be hard, unpredictable, and unfair but if you look closely, you will find nuggets of joy and hidden treasures of beauty in everything. It is there just waiting to be discovered but you must look for it, change your filter from a victim mentality and choose life – choose to seek peace, hope and sweetness in whatever is swirling around you. I promise you it IS there. I remind myself daily, minute by minute, that I CAN do all things through Christ who strengthens me. You can, too. It is only by His strength, love, and healing and my decision to trust Him with myself that I am here to live another day and breathe another breath. It is His breath in my lungs. He saved my life and changed, and still is, changing my perspective. I am thankful. I have another day to live.

My hope and prayer as I travel out this next chapter in life, is that I leave everyone better than I found them – that encouragement, compassion and hope will trail behind me like a gentle beacon defying the darkness and shining the light of the One who is Light.  

“But I’ll take the hand of those who don’t know the way, who can’t see where they’re going. I’ll be a personal guide to them, directing them through unknown country. I’ll be right there to show them what roads to take, make sure they don’t fall into the ditch. These are the things I’ll be doing for them—sticking with them, not leaving them for a minute.” Isaiah 42:16 MSG

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” John 1:5 ESV

Whirlwind

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There is a restless, unsettled energy hovering around my heart and soul this morning as I take that first anticipated sip of coffee. The dark, earthy scent is familiar and safe; an old and expected routine. Yet, the familiarity is not calming and soothing this morning and that throws me off-kilter.

Watching the critter activity from my kitchen window, steaming coffee warming my hands, I am reminded of the power nature possesses to soothe, hush, and calm my spirit. It’s where I talk to You and hear You speak to me. Healing. Peace.

Time to get outside!

Donning a hoodie with Pacific Northwest on the front, I grab a hat. I choose the one that says “Sorta Sweet, Sorta Savage” on the front of it. That’s how I feel this morning. Restless, savage, a bit wild in the heart. I need movement.

The park with the pond is beautiful this morning. The geese are already up, fussing and snipping at the grass, finding their favorite delicacies. Their contented honks and bossy hissing are pleasant and funny. The routine of it calms and soothes. My chilled hands unclench, just a bit.

There is a big white egret sunning itself and hunting. It stands on its thin, nimble legs on a jumble of rocks in a corner of the pond motionless, yet always watching for the slightest movement of its next meal. The egret shares this rock with another pond dweller catching some morning sun. Always vigilant and suspicious, the large pond turtle appears to be oblivious to me, but I know it isn’t. I’m being carefully monitored.

Brilliant blue sky above me, dew-damp grass under my feet, and a spunky breeze skipping around the pond – the perfect morning.

On the other side of the pond the trees are showing off their gorgeous autumn colors. The vivid oranges and reds blend and blur with the yellows and greens like a startling tableau of beauty and peace. I take a few moments at the edge of the pond to soak it in. The sight is majestic, bold, and insistent – the contrasting loveliness of the bright blue sky and these gorgeous colors demand all my focus and attention. There is strength and defiance in the colors and tenacious hold these trees have on their foliage, as they shout their last hurrah before letting go and descending into rest, quiet and rebirth at the change of season. It must happen. The change is inevitable, predicted and set into motion by Your design. The letting go is part of life as it unrelentingly moves forward. I see that as I take in the trees and seasonal changes at the pond. It brings some comfort to my troubled and agitated heart.

This is a season of many changes and I’m forced to find my way in a new normal. I don’t like it and it frightens me. I struggle and kick, even though I know it will happen despite my stubborn clinging. I feel a bit savage about the letting go. Unsettled. Unknown. Defiant.

Moving along the edge of the pond, I look up through the stunning leaf color and pause to breathe deeply. I sense You here with me. Cleansing. Surrender. Beauty. Safe.

You are here in the season of rebirth and new life, and the season of release and rest. It is incessant, this change of season. It is needed, necessary and it will happen. My shoulders slowly drop, and my back relaxes as You speak to my soul and minister to my heart. You remind me there is beauty in the letting go. It is the precursor to a season of change, growth, and intimacy with You. The status quo never brings the exciting feeling of a new chapter and fresh adventures. You have more in store for me. My purpose on Earth is continually moving – being blown by Your breath and Your plan. The journey to get there involves upheaval and letting go. Trust. Intimacy. Faith.

The spunky breeze is back and becoming a bit more playful in its bluster. Resuming my walk, I am suddenly caught up in a whirlwind of brightly finished leaves and brown grasses, whirling, and tossing and pulling at my hat. Laughing, I raise my arms and let it dart, tease and play!  Zipping and dancing all around me and sticking to my sleeves, the leaves embrace the wildness and seemingly random whim of the wind and let go. It is magical, beautiful, and joyful! My heart responds and softens – restlessness and fear melting away.  “Can I trust You with me, Lord?”, I ask in the wind. “Absolutely!”, the leaves reply, as they dash away in freedom on the adventure You created for them.

Longing

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

It rises up from deep in my soul.  The sensation is difficult to describe, and I need it to have a name.  Somehow that will make it seem safe and predictable, possibly evencontrollable.  It is pressure that builds and needs a release like a cry that can only be satisfied by an answering calm, a gentling of the urgency; a whispered word, saying “Peace, be still child; how very close I am to you.” 

It is birthed in quiet moments of meditation and worship where time ceases to exist, as I have Your undivided attention.  My voice and Your Spirit mix and intertwine in the Heavenlies bringing delight to Your heart and setting into motion things I could never comprehend.  It is so beautiful, yet not safe and certainly not predictable – uncontrollable. This feeling surges up as I fall to my knees in awe of all that You are knowing that the small bit I do know of You is almost more than I can bear.  Knowing there is more, that You are richer and more brilliant than my most vivid dreams frightens me because that too is not safe or predictable and cannot be contained.  No – it is holy, a consuming fire, pure, wild, and more fierce and passionate than I can handle on my own.

It swells up when my fingers finally release their death grip on what I knew all along I could never control yet almost died in trying.  I hear it in the sound of chains falling and walls crumbling as another stronghold tumbles to the ground; the scent of victory overcoming the stench of defeat.  The feeling comes as a wave, a pounding of the heart as Your anointing falls when obedience calls and is answered with, “Yes Lord, here I am.” 

It is there when the howling loneliness shouts for filling and claws in desperation until Your presence is given permission and enfolds and permeates the void.  I sense it when joy unspeakable and peace that passes all understanding snaps like a banner in the wind, high above the circumstances and distractions of life proclaiming that Jehovah Nissi is my covering and victory.

Waiting in Your presence I begin to understand the sensation is a soul-deep desire for You – a needy emptiness that can only be filled by all that You are. It is the craving my spirit knows will only be satisfied when I am forever in Your presence; an obsession keeping me hungry and thirsty for revelation, wisdom, truth, and a startling intimacy found only with You. This isn’t safe or predictable and certainly not controllable but will be with me until I see You face to face.

So, I will let go and embrace the wildness and fierceness of it.  I will welcome it with open arms and a tender heart.  I will name it longing.

The Beach

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The brisk wind snaps and fluffs the tendrils of auburn hair peeking out from under her olive-green beanie. It feels so invigorating, as if the wind is beckoning her to come out and walk the beach. Perhaps it knows something feels different this morning, like that feeling when an elusive word is on the tip of your tongue, but your brain won’t quite let it go.

This beach is Misty’s favorite place. It has been since she discovered it several years ago, quite by accident, actually. After spending time with friends in Santa Cruz before one of them headed to a new job in Texas, Misty decided to take a little detour on her way home, just to see what she might see.  Rounding a curve, there it was laid out before her in all its glory! A lovely beach cove, set off the road with a sandy little parking lot to accommodate visitors.

Misty pulled off, parked her yellow VW Bug and that was it – she was in love with this beach and knew it was her place.

Lately, life has been hard and confusing, complicated, and draining. The life path she dreamed of following is not panning out and it weighs heavily on her heart. Patience is not her bent and the desire to move things along is a constant battle in her weary mind. Shouldn’t she be there by now? Why wasn’t she finding her niche?

Full of hope for a day of clearing her mind, she steps onto the sand into the wind and salty smell of the sea. Deep cleansing breaths, she tells herself. Deep, long and cleansing.  The vibrancy of the water holds an anticipation in the micro sparkles she sees dancing on the swell of each wave.  Heeding the call, she gingerly hops into the foamy sea and catches her breath at the cold, crisp tingle on her bare feet. The dramatic inhale of breath feels lovely and empowering. It feels comforting. Some of the fear and worry escape on the exhale. Is that a lightness in her soul?

“What do I do now?”, she asks the sea, willing it to part with its ancient wisdom.

Walking along the wet sand, she alternately runs toward and dodges the ever-coming waves. For the first time in a while, she is having fun!

Up ahead she sees something in the sand just out of reach of the waves. How odd, she thinks. What is it? It appears to be a small pile of driftwood. Ever curious, Misty investigates and discovers someone has spelled the word JOY with the driftwood. It is gnarled and holey with striations of dark and light in the sea-soaked wood. Pausing to look at the driftwood she feels what might be joy.  Her mouth relaxes into a gentle smile, which if she is honest with herself has not happened in a while. Well, not a genuine smile. Hmmm. Joy. Yes, she does feel it. It’s been simmering there just below the surface blocked by worry, fear and feeling left behind while others are off making their mark.  Feeling like she doesn’t measure up.

As Misty continues down the beach soaking in the joy, letting it do its thing, she detects a lightness in her step and her shoulders relaxing. The sweet sun pours warmth into her bones, yet not the overwhelming heat that makes one want to run for the shade. Stopping to scan the sea and the sand behind her, she sees her footprints. They look purposeful and confident, like these prints have a destination in mind and are confidently heading there. The sea is edging closer to her footprints and will soon wash them away as if they never existed. The past being taken and what is before her opening wide.

There are not many beachcombers out this morning. Mid-week keeps the crowds away and Misty likes that. Up ahead, she hears barking and yipping from a sleek, brindle dog dancing with delight over the stick about to be tossed into the shallow waves.  Being a dog lover, Misty briskly walks toward the middle-aged woman tossing the stick. She notices black yoga pants pushed up near the woman’s knees to keep from getting soaked, a camo-colored hoodie with rolled up sleeves and short, fluffed light brown hair that dances and tosses in the crisp sea-wind.

Smiling as she approaches, the woman waves, calls out a greeting and tosses the stick high at the same time. As the wet dog returns with the stick, the woman reaches down to stroke its sleek body and gets a sandy, toothy grin. He wants her to hurry and throw the stick again. “He will do this all day, you know,” the woman laughs. “This is our happy place where we escape to refill our souls.”

As they exchange small talk and watch the escapades of the dog, Misty notices the woman has tattoos on her arms. One says Be Still and another Faith over Fear. She is surprised how these simple words tattooed on a stranger fill her with such emotion – this is what her tired heart and dry soul need. How she longs to just be still and let go of the fear that cripples her; fear of the unknown, that she isn’t making a difference and the constant striving that saps her energy.

Shyly, she asks the woman, “May I ask about your tattoos? This sounds weird, I know, but I am drawn to them. I think they’re speaking to me.”

“Of course!”, the woman replies. “These tattoos hold special meaning for me. I’ve been through some rough patches; things I thought would break and destroy me. These words remind me of all I have weathered – mantras the Creator spoke to my soul. They mean so much I had them etched in a place I could revisit anytime, anywhere.”

As the silence spins out the woman turns to look at her; her forest-green eyes compassionate and knowing, holding her gaze for a moment. “I don’t know what’s weighing on you, honey, but I believe everything happens for a reason and we all have a specific purpose on Earth. Sometimes to find it, we simply need to be still and let it come to us. Joy will come if you make room and give it permission.”

As the woman speaks, Misty feels peace flow over her back and neck. She has a more confident tilt to her chin and senses a shift in the atmosphere as she embraces the letting go.

“Thank you for sharing that,” Misty replies. “I know why I needed to be here this morning.”

As she moves down the beach and circles back at the cliff with the purple flowers, Misty’s parched soul feels softer and her insides less strung up with anxiety. What if all she needs to do for now is be still? What if there is a Creator who has plans and a specific purpose just for her? Walking toward the car, the small smile on her face is brighter. She feels joy at the beautiful beach, the warm sun, the constant reassuring shushing of the sea.

After a few more hefty tosses of the stick, it’s time to head home. The dog drops the stick at her feet and the woman smiles and offers up a silent prayer of thanks. This random, yet not, encounter on the beach blessed her, too.

Gathering up her coffee thermos, the wet dog and the precious fetching stick, the woman in the camo hoodie understands why she felt such a pull to the sea and this specific beach today.  Tattoos and JOY written in driftwood. The still small voice isn’t wrong and what blessings come from heeding it.

Hope Grove

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Hope Grove

He is up before the sun rises. His camo-colored backpack lies on the backseat of the old, dark blue Jeep. It’s full of water bottles, snacks, a sketch pad, and sunscreen. A few haphazard beach towels and a trusty old blanket are tossed on the floor, below the backpack. The smell of his hastily grabbed cappuccino wafts and swirls around him; it’s a comforting scent and tastes like liquid gold.

He enjoys road trips, especially heading to the forested mountains of the Sierras. He gets an early start to avoid traffic and people. The many laned freeways of suburbia will inch down into 2 lane, curvy mountain roads. The gentle hills give way to the foothills dotted with trees and brush.  Soon he will be in the mountains and the anticipation in his bones is invigorating!

As the Jeep climbs up and up and twists and turns on the winding road, he feels some of the tension leave him. His shoulders drop a little and the tightness around his ears and neck loosen up. He really has been full of knots and worry and vague feelings of frustration.

It won’t be long now. His turnoff is coming soon. He can feel the pull and tug on his heart and body that this mountain trail always conjures up in his soul.

Turn signal on, he eases into the small, wooded, empty parking lot. Yes! He doesn’t want distractions today. He deeply needs to be alone to refresh and get some perspective. Such unsettled emotions plague him lately. They bubble up and at times consume him. Life is difficult right now. How does he get out of this slump? Nothing is going as planned. His big interview was a disaster. He was completely unprepared and the failure of it still reddens his face with embarrassment. High expectations and dashed dreams camp out in his mind. Others in his sphere are successful and fast moving. They are further along than he is, and it rubs, scrapes, and gnaws at his thoughts.

Yet…another feeling has been hanging out in his mind, as well – a rushing sensation that pulses along in his very blood. It’s not unpleasant but unusual. He can’t quite put his finger on it. Deep down he knows whatever it is, it’s calling and beckoning to him; an insistent feeling telling him it is time to get to the mountains.

Well, here he is in the mountains…

He takes in the stillness punctuated by calling birds, rustling trees and the beautiful, blessed silence that is the forest. He belongs here. This is his place. He feels known and accepted by the mountain, the trees, the very scent of warming pine that he loves so much. He takes deep, deep breaths to capture the scent in his lungs and hold on to the scent memory.

Hefting his backpack from the Jeep, he grabs a beach towel. He plans to find a lovely place to sit and become one with the earth and forest for a bit. Maybe he will break out the sketch pad. Downing the remaining cappuccino, he is off to the trail and whatever adventure awaits him.

He chooses a brisk but easy pace for his hike. He likes to feel his blood pumping but doesn’t want to miss a single thing the forest has to show him this morning. It has been a while since he’s hiked here. He wonders if it’s changed; in his heart he hopes not.  He soaks up all the mountain offers him; sounds that only the forest makes – creatures scurrying and fussing in the undergrowth vying for bugs and seeds; loud jays that scold and screech at each other shouting the forest gossip; louder, more defined thumps and rustles that come from a bigger animal making its way over and around whatever is in the way.

All these are music to his ears and a feast for his eyes! Moving gingerly along the path, he notices some random bursts of white hidden among the detritus on the forest floor and snagged along the bark of some trees and bushes. Hmm. Odd. In all his years of hiking forest paths he doesn’t remember seeing this strange white stuff. He stops and waits a moment along a curved spot in the trail.  He looks back and sees that the placement of the white doesn’t seem quite as random as he thought. Was it placed here purposely? That urgent feeling of beckoning and calling is coursing through his blood again. Interesting. “What is this?”, he wonders aloud.

He heads off again, alert this time for more white. He spies it snared on a fallen old pine tree and heads over for a closer look. Oh, it appears to be feathery and light, a bit silky, airy, and so soft.  As he runs this white, airy softness between his fingers, a peaceful feeling of safety and rest settles over him. He senses that he is going to be ok; somehow all is well and will be well.

Not knowing what to make of this, he searches the path in front of him and spies more white as the trail twists and turns out of sight. Senses piqued, curiosity and bravery filling his soul, he travels along this mysterious path that enchants him.

Rounding a bend, he spots a small, weather-beaten sign. It sits on a dilapidated post covered with moss and lichen. Tiny yellow flowers surround the crooked base. The sign says Hope Grove and there is a faded red arrow pointing off to the right. The white, airy material is profuse here at the right-hand fork. He doesn’t remember any of this; is he lost? He does not have that frightened, adrenaline rush feeling of being lost. Oddly, he feels found.

He doesn’t hesitate as he follows the fork to the right toward Hope Grove. He feels anticipation and wait, is that joy? It might be…

There is a small tunnel-like area up ahead where smaller trees and creeping vines, snagged with the white feathery material, make a covered spot over the trail. He moves through and emerges into a lovely little grove of pines. There is a small area of meadow grasses and some wildflowers dipping in the breeze. Fascinating! He moves about this little grove stopping to look closely at the flowers, sturdy grasses, and the light; the lovely, beautiful, soft light. Excited, he finds the perfect spot to toss down the beach towel and sit a spell. His mind is clear and uncluttered. He enjoys the sounds, scents, and beauty. It refreshes him. It is actively restoring him. He feels it, he knows it. His soul and spirit unclench, and he decides to let it all go. Peace. Safety. Rest.

After sitting for a bit, allowing his tired body and battered spirit to breathe again, he opens his backpack, grabs snacks and water, and looks at the sketch pad lying there. It wills him to open it, to capture and fill the pages with what his senses show him, and the grove speaks to him.

Taking in the entirety of the small meadow and grove, he sees a well-worn sign to his left. Hope Grove. The words are written in blue faded letters. Floating off one corner of this aged sign, he sees the white again. The way the light hits it, the way it flutters and moves with the gauzy breeze looks like feathers – white, airy, wispy feathers. Happy and joyful, they beckon and call to him. He is not alone here in Hope Grove. The presence is not sinister; it is a Spirit of joy, belonging, peace and love which permeates this sacred place. It is sacred and intimate. Here he is wanted. There is no expectation put on him because he knows that he is enough. The fear that sticks to him of late falls away. In its place is confidence. Confidence that he’s got this and is right where he needs to be in his life journey. Opening the sketch book, he surprises himself at how deftly, yet simply he captures the light of this place. The way it falls between the pine trees, in stark but gentle beams. The sign is dappled by the rays that penetrate its corner of the grove, illuminating the white feathers in a mysterious, forest-y, and peaceful way.

In between his drawing and snacking, he allows the peace and silence of this grove to seep deep into his spirit, soul, and bones. He will not forget.

As the light and sounds of the forest shift to early evening, it is time to go. He feels wistful as he packs up his things, careful to leave this magical place undisturbed. What he will leave behind him is fear, defeat, expectations, and comparison. What he will take from the grove is joyful determination, confidence, peace, and the ability to rest and enjoy his life journey. He is enough!

Making his way back along the trail he sees that his feathery white guides are gone. He smiles to himself. He knows the way back but needed their help to discover restoration and hope for his tired and restless soul.

Ascending

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

The Creator watches as they ascend to the heavenlies. Lovely, iridescent conversations drifting up from the souls of His creation. Gently capturing every spoken and unspoken request in His hand, He attends to them all with love and delight. Engraved on His palms are names, so many names; each one a special treasure with His undivided attention. He listens with deep compassion as the fragrance of our need for Him fills, swirls, and mingles with cherubim song and the voices of the saints. A song that is deep, mysterious, and filled with prophecy pours from His mouth and flows down to bathe and hover over us. Deep calls to deep as He intervenes, commands, and performs the miraculous. His timing is perfect.

Each prayer, groan, praise, and cry rise upward on the delicate, life-giving vapors of His very breath breathed into our lungs. Returning to the Creator, they seek peace, protection, and healing; compassion, provision, and love – that deep need to be known and seen – to matter.

Never resting, omniscient and omnipresent, the Almighty is aware of all that concerns His cherished ones. No need, thought, or desire is hidden from Him. The first fluttering open of an eyelid in the morning, the woodsy scent of pine being inhaled and enjoyed, the sting of rejection and late-night tears from a broken heart are not lost on Him. Full of compassion and mercy He sings over the pain, fear, joy and mundane, speaking that which is not, into existence and calling home those for whom eternity with Him is beckoning.

When a wound is so deep that the wounded one has no words, yet cries out with groans and weeping, He is in the midst of it, speaking peace, speaking healing, speaking Himself into the chaos. It must quiet, obey and make space for His plan, healing, and comfort. Just a brush from the hem of His robe is enough to calm a soul in distress, to heal the body, mind, and spirit, and quiet the voices of fear, worry, despair and evil. His thoughts and His glance are always enough. Omnipotent.

When shouts of joy and words of thanksgiving tumble from grateful lips and eyes are tear-stained with joy and deliverance He is there. He rejoices with the heavenly host over a prodigal come home, a life healed, a relationship mended, a soul repentant and forgiven.

The prayers whispered in the mundane, unseen happenings of an ordinary day are revered and never overlooked. There is a specific purpose for each second granted to His child and not one is trivial.

There is peace and safety knowing that we are not anonymous. We are fully known and seen in a sea of humanity desperate for hope, peace, protection, and healing. Psalm 139: 1-6 declares, “You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely. You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.”

The prayers of creation will never cease ascending to the Father’s ears. He will forever receive them with love and mercy, giving grace, undivided attention, and care to each one. Billions of soul-whispers and cries continuously flow upward. Yours will never be lost in the crowd. You will never be irrelevant and unseen. Your voice will always be a beautiful incense perfuming the Throne Room of the Most High. You are not anonymous to the One who loves you best.

Let There Be

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

This short statement in Genesis 1:3 called the world into existence. The Spirit of God hovered over the empty, formless mass of Earth declaring it to exist out of nothing.

In my mind I see it – deep blackness empty of hope and life, the vast, desolate emptiness and absolute silence of it all. Nothingness. It’s overwhelming to think about because we have never experienced absolute nothingness, the absence of all sound. How would that feel? Suffocating? Terrifying? Absolutely alone. Pin pricks of goose bumps form as I picture what the Creator hovered over in that place devoid of everything.

But He said, “Let there be…”.

That is not a wish or a casual comment. “Let there be.” It’s a command. As the Spirit of God hovered, He already knew what He was going to call into existence. He always knew and dedicated a specific time and place for it to happen.

Omnipotent. Omniscient. Omnipresent. Alpha and Omega. The power, compassion and patience, the wisdom, authority, and mystery wrapped up in these words is nothing short of awe inspiring, humbling and breath taking. Everything becoming as He intended by the words of His mouth – nothing accidental or happenstance. “So is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.” 1

This word from His mouth included you and me.

As the earth we inhabit was being called into existence you and I were on His mind. When there was nothing but blackness and silence, we were thought of and intimately known down to the minute cellular details of our being. The exact timing of our birth, our parents, our siblings, our friends, our entire sphere of existence was known, decided, and waiting for His word to release us to be and do what He ordained from the very beginning. I imagine the joy and excitement in the heavenlies as each of us were sent forth!

It is hard to know what to do with the knowledge that we have always been known, cherished and so very loved; that before we existed in a worldly way, the exact number of hairs on our heads was decided, the color of our eyes was carefully thought out, and the path we were created to walk was plotted out carefully and completely. There is no surprise or plot twist for Him. Our paths may be twisty, uncertain, tedious, and full of the unexpected, unwanted, and unexplained to our limited wisdom, but not to the One who set it all in motion with the command, “Let there be…”.

I wonder how many times each day He declares that command over us. “Let there be” …a job, provision, healing, restoration, a safe trip, a friend when we are lonely, an angelic intervention, hope when life seems desperate, protection from evil. His words never return void, and they achieve all that He sent them forth to accomplish. He’s declaring it over you right now. “Let there be” …hope, peace, blessings, and victory! You are safe, you are known, you are of immense value.

1 Isaiah 55:11