Raw

Raw

The morning view from my kitchen window is filled with shafts of pink and pale orange that stripe the sunrise sky and mix with the slate grey of the cloud cover. It’s so quiet and still. The neighbor’s fig and plum trees have lost all their leaves. The branches look stark and raw stripped of their leaf cover. Raw…

I’m the first one up except for the dog and cats. The house is chilly as the heater begins its task of warming things up. I love the feeling of my warm coffee mug bringing warmth to my chilled hands. It’s comforting. It’s soothing. It’s routine and I look forward to it every day.

Standing at my kitchen window watching the Creator begin painting the sky with even brighter hues and bursts of brilliance that word, raw, simmers in my brain. I feel raw this morning. It can be defined as in its natural state; not yet processed or purified; not analyzed, evaluated, or processed for use.

The Christmas season is over and the new year looms ahead. I always feel off-kilter and unsettled this time of year. The build up and anticipation, the plans and decorations, the bright glitter and shine, the special food and the hope of seeing loved ones has worn off and dulled. Putting it all away for next year, the clearing up and cleaning out, the good-byes and see ya laters await and it all just feels raw and painful. So much can happen in a year, a month, a minute and I am not a fan of uncertainty. I try to live in the moment and let go of worry, fear, lack of control and lean into the new, the blessings and adventures that will come.  But it’s still hard. My emotions are raw and chaotic. They need a resting place. Help, Jesus…

As I watch the morning unfold on my patio trying to sort my thoughts, a feeling of safety and tucking-in surrounds me. It’s beautiful and startling. I know it’s You. The comforting words of Psalm 139: 1-2 open up in my mind, “O Lord, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar.” As Your words soak in, the pent-up emotions and chaos tumble forth. You understand the raw, the chaos, and the frantic unsettled feelings that don’t have a place to land. You are the landing place and the wide-open hands. You are the Alpha and Omega, the One who can sort, sift and make any sense of the jumbled thoughts and rawness. You are the One who calms and smooths out the unanalyzed, the not yet processed, natural state of the human heart and You purify it. It feels freeing, safe, and cleansing giving it to You in its raw, clouded and mixed-up state.

With You, I don’t have to tone it down, gauge the emotional capacity of the one I’m sharing with, dismiss and diminish myself and the rawness of my emotions in order to protect someone else, or use copious amounts of humor to tame it and make it palatable to another. With You, I am just me – all the raw feelings, the laughter and tears, the rumblings, the nonsense, the hope, and the fluttering anticipation that watches and waits to see what blessings You will pour out this year.

We all need a safe, protected place to just be with Someone who knows every single thought, emotion and the reasons behind each of them.  It is a beautiful, holy and sacred thing to be raw. No holding back – no lengthy explanations and justifications. The whole of our humanity in the presence of the One who created every nuance.  I never fully realized how freeing and breathtakingly intimate it is to be raw in the presence of God. It is sacred ground.

Winter Morning

Winter Morning

The sun hasn’t risen up over the foothills yet. My bedroom is dark and in the piles of blankets on my bed I feel cocooned, warm and cozy. There is a cat, possibly two, curled and softly purring at the foot of the bed. I gingerly wiggle and stretch my feet; either cat could wake and attack my moving foot at any time.

Time to get up – there’s lovely hot coffee to make and sip in the quiet, peaceful morning of a silent house. Calm. Soothing.

Coffee in hand, the heat from the mug soaks into my chilly fingers. It feels homey, nostalgic and something else that I can’t quite put my finger on. Anticipation? Expectation?

The lights from the Christmas tree and mantle glow softly and cheerfully in the still-dark living room. The rustic, wooden nativity scene is backlit with a sweet, warm glow from the tiny lights strung along the small side table where it resides. My mind wanders and contemplates all that this sweet and simple scene portray. A Savior born, a young mother’s joy and fear, shepherds’ awe and angel voices. Miracles. Redemption. Love.

A deep fog descended in the early hours of the morning. All is shrouded, misty and ethereal. Sounds are muffled and muted. I still my breathing for just a moment trying to hear the morning bird song and squirrel rustlings through the damp air. All is silent. It’s beautiful, disconcerting and mysterious. I feel all of that in my chest, my mind, and my spirit.

Sipping the warm coffee, I allow my mind to wander, and memories begin to surface. So many memories filter into my mind around the holidays. Ones that are tucked up and away out of sight for most of the year but resurrected as Fall approaches, melds and blends into the frenetic pace and high expectations of Winter holidays. As much as I long for the nostalgia, beauty and excitement of the holidays, there lingers and flits along the periphery those feelings that aren’t so merry and  bright. Ones that call to mind Dr offices, hospitals, blindsiding loss and hurt, dashed expectations and lack luster merriment. There are, of course, the happy, joyful, lovely memories that come out and bring smiles, laughter and warm nostalgic feelings, but they are not alone, and the memories vie for prominence in my mind.

Looking out my back window at the swirly, wisping fog it feels disorienting and unfamiliar, yet beautiful in the covering quietness. I feel safe and wrapped up.

Stepping outside, the brisk chill of the damp air is startling. Breathing deeply, the cold air zings and stings my lungs. Invigorating. Through the mist I see light seeping through as the sun makes its ascent and the rays forge a path in the gloom. It’s calming. It brings a sense of order and relief that not all is murky and diminished; that night and darkness will not last forever – the Light is on its way.  

The Light pierces through the veils of murky shadows and brings hope, joy and comfort. I imagine the awe, fear, anticipation and great hope that the first Light brought to the hills of a sleepy little village so many, many years ago. A Light full of joyful celebration, promises, hope and protection. That Light is still here. It shines, pierces and breaks though fog, darkness and the high, often unattainable expectations we crave during the holiday season.

The Light shows us that hard, sad and lonely memories can co-exist with joy, peace, living in the moment, and merriment. The Light calms the swirling expectations with a peace that passes all understanding. Dark crevices of memory are illuminated with healing and comfort when we give the Light permission to enter into it with us. He was there when the hurts happened. He has never left. He understands where the deep need and high expectations come from, and He delights with us in the silly, happy, fun times that bring joy and a smile to our faces. And He brings hope, so much hope that tells us we are not alone and all will be well. Emmanuel, God with us. The Light in the darkness, Prince of Peace, Mighty Counselor. Always, everywhere and in every season.

A High Rock

Wrapped up in her crimson scarf, dark green beanie and brown combat boots, Jasmine makes her way to the dirt road that winds past her home. Tendrils of black hair wisp and flutter around her cheeks and forehead as she walks.

The air is bracing and chilly, but the hot coffee with cream warms her hands through the lidded cup.

The crunching of her boots along the dirt packed road is such a satisfying sound, purposeful with meaning and direction. The rhythmic sound is comforting and familiar and she’s been craving that feeling.

This year has been one of many changes – some welcome and some not, some expected and some blindsiding. The feeling of having no control over her life and the lives of her loved ones weighs so heavily on her raw and tender heart. There seems to be no balance to any of it and she cannot fix, re-route and smooth it over. The helplessness of it all piles up and up and leaves her feeling overwhelmed and so very tired. With every step she visualizes pounding the troubles deep into the dusty country road, imagining the puffs of dirt and tiny pebbles left in her wake floating away on the breeze and disappearing, but they don’t. The troubles just settle onto a different spot in her journey.

As she makes her way along the road Jasmine feels the peace and tranquility of the countryside begin to work its magic. Her tight shoulders and neck release, just a bit, her mind focusing on what’s around her. Birds chatter in the copse of trees just up ahead, down and around the slight bend in the road. There is a bit of marshy land to the right filled with tiny bugs and tasty treats for the morning hunters. It’s a joyful and happy noise these birds and creatures make as they faithfully trust in the Creator to supply their needs. All they need to do is watch, listen and seek out what He has given.

Passing under the branches of the old, gnarled oaks, Jasmine feels the slight change in temperature as the morning sun is temporarily blocked and chill air brushes her exposed neck and face. This is how her heart has been feeling – as if a shadow has fallen over her spirit drowning out the light and warmth, leaving her chilled, shivery and exposed. In this shadowy place she’s lost her perspective. Everything seems obscure and vague with too many unknowns. It isn’t fixable and the way is so hard to see.

On the other side of the oak trees a small trail branches to the right from the main dirt road. As she passes under the trees she feels, almost hears, in the tufted and swaying grasses, an audible sigh beckoning her to veer off and take the path. “Why not?” she whispers.

Curiosity mounting, Jasmine makes her way along the trail. She has traversed this old country lane many times and doesn’t remember this obscure path that’s barely visible through the wildflowers and grasses.  Up ahead it curves off to the left around a cluster of small trees. Once past the trees the path drops down snaking off through the countryside. At the point where the path begins its descent, she sees a cluster of large rocks to the right jutting out like a shelf. There are fragrant flowering bushes around the rock cluster that give it a tucked in feeling. Safe and protected. Fascinated, Jasmine climbs up and sits on the rock shelf. She lets herself breathe in the cool air and feel the warmth of the late autumn sun penetrate her exposed skin. Warmth and protection begin working their way into that shadowy, frozen place in her heart.  It’s such a lovely, cozy, feeling of safety. She hasn’t realized just how frantic and overwhelmed she’s been and how she has missed feeling safe and peaceful.  

Looking at the rock she’s sitting on, she notices bits of dried leaves and finished flower petals from the nearby bushes. They spin and shimmy along in the breeze like random spinners, until they float off the edge of the rock shelf following the breeze on the journey laid out for them. The freedom in these floating petals makes her smile. Oh, to feel so light, so free, so joyful…

The breeze picks up, dancing and whispering through the wildflowers around her rock. She feels a gentle peace descend on her shoulders and thread through her hair. Tears of release that she has so fiercely guarded and held at bay, freely fall and flow down her face, splashing the rock like drops from her heart. Each tear holds the name of one she holds dear, of one she loves and desperately wants to protect, wrap up tight and keep from all harm and violence. But she’s tired, her heart can’t contain all the striving, soldiering on and fixing…it’s beyond what she can do. It rips and pulls at her spirit.

As the cleansing flood of tears subside, Jasmine notices that in the warm, life-giving light of the sun, her tears soak up and evaporate. A hush falls around the rock and a Voice she recognizes speaks into her soul. “I have them now. Their names are engraved on the palms of My hands, as is yours. Their burdens are not yours to carry. I have them and they are safe. I gathered up your tears in a bottle where My breath and My will have transformed them into droplets of peace, joy and beauty. You are safe and hidden in My sanctuary. I have placed you upon a high rock where you will find rest for your world-weary soul. I am a shield about you, you are never alone.”

Her parched spirit soaks up these whispered words and softens. Her troubled, fearful, frantic thoughts slow and dissolve; blown away by the flighty breeze tousling her hair. As she sits on this high rock, safe and tucked away, her heart and soul open up and she has room to breathe. In the place where fear, anxiety and a desperate need to control once dwelled, now courage, bravery and deep joy begin blossoming. Her captured tears have been transformed into fragrant, life-giving water that cleanses and renews all that was lost and broken. She will find beauty again. She is confident of this.

As the autumn sun makes it lazy descent, Jasmine is ready to head back. She isn’t the same person who started out this morning. Her feet feel light and confident as she follows the path back to the main road. The warmth of the setting sun on her back feels so safe, like the protective hand of a Father who is ever vigilant and watchful, who has all things under His control. She really can rest now. “…My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”1

  1. Exodus 33:14

Helpers

Helpers

I happened upon a devotion this morning that caused to me stop and think. I am a helper. I want to help, fix and make other people and their lives okay. I take on and carry things with me that are not mine to carry or hold. As an empath, I deeply feel others’ joy, pain, sadness and all the in-between and that’s a good thing, right?

Perhaps, but it also gets very, very heavy. It can choke out my own joy, gladness and peace and that is a dangerous thing. The burdens of the world are impossible for me to shoulder and quickly take my focus off of being grateful, thankful and content. I miss good and happy things as well as blessings happening in my own life, because I feel such a need to help and be there for others. I am not equipped to walk another person’s path, just as they are not equipped to walk mine.  

Matthew 28:18 says, “Then Jesus came to them and said, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.”

All authority. All of it. He has the power to rescue, heal, save, change the trajectory of a situation, be miraculous or help someone navigate the rocky, unsteady, difficult road that is ahead of them, filled with important lessons and truths that they alone must walk through and learn. He has that authority. Not me. He alone knows what is needed all the time and in all ways. He is the one weaving our life tapestries and He knows.

In 1 Thessalonians 5:17, the apostle Paul exhorts us to “pray without ceasing.” How much better would it be for me to use my time and energy in being a good listener, having compassion and praying, yet leaving the burden and outcome in His omnipotent hands? By praying for someone and asking God to speak to and love them through us, do we not become a channel of His peace, comfort and love?

I don’t know about you, but this speaks volumes to the helper in me. I can feel a literal shift in my soul and much-needed peace and joy descend. I feel His gentle breath soothe my heart – “let them go, child. Lay their burdens down. It is not yours to carry. I’ve got them, they are safe with Me.”

“Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty. This I declare about the Lord: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; for he is my God, and I trust him.” Psalm 91:1-2

Changing Direction

Do you ever experience those days, weeks or months where specific life circumstances seem to have no solid solution? Where there seems to be no way over, around or through a particular issue?

Not long ago, I was feeling this acutely with frustration and weariness settling in for what seemed like a long and exhausting ride. I was tired of myself and my thoughts, mulling things over in exactly the same way and finding no joy, relief or solution.

There is a local park that I love to walk through, especially in the fall. There is something about the way the light slips and shines through the trees. The colors beginning to move through the leaves paints such a hopeful picture. It feels like something is just around the corner out of sight. Anticipation.

Around and around the park I went, following the same path greeting fellow walkers, joggers, and meander-ers. Seeing the joy of dogs chasing balls, sniffing after squirrels and frisking in the cooling fall air felt so calming and happy. Some of the tension in my soul softened and released. I had room to breathe. I noticed some peace and a bit of joy seeping in, crowding out the fret, worry and control that was trying so hard to establish dominance. The autumn sun on my face, the crisp air and the beauty of the park were working their magic.

I distinctly remember rounding a curve in the path. The shade of the huge, old oak tree bathed me in cool, sweet air as I stepped into its shade. As I felt the abrupt change from warmth to the cool refreshment of shade, I felt a Whisper nudge my heart saying, “change directions.” I knew Your voice. This Voice has spoken to me, prophesied and sung over me, healed and restored me so many times, in so many circumstances that to obey it is second nature.

I stopped and stood in the shade for a few minutes and then I changed direction. “What are you saying to me, God?” I whispered. “I’m watching, I’m listening.”

Walking in a different direction along this path, I noticed that things looked quite different than they did while I was going the other way. I could see the other side of the trees and the way the light looked different peeking through branches that I couldn’t see before. I saw a bird’s nest and squirrels nibbling at pinecones which had been obscured from view. There was a group of older men sitting in a circle with their tired dogs lolling and stretching out as they chatted, joked and laughed together. I couldn’t see them when I was walking the other direction because they were hidden from view by a large cluster of trees. Seeing them there enjoying their dogs and long-time friendship made me smile.

As I noticed these hidden gems I missed when walking the way I always go, it struck me that I have been stuck in the way I viewed the things going on around me. I had expectations, stubborn ideas and a one-sided view of how things should be handled. I wasn’t looking for a new way, a different way, a fresh way. I was looking at my way.

Your whispered call to change direction resonated with me. My spirit, eyes and heart needed a new perspective, Yours. In my striving, worrying and need to control the things swirling around me and those I hold dear, I completely missed Your voice.  You are asking me to let go – to remember You are the Author of my life story and the story of those I love. You see from all directions, all at once and always will. You have it all in control, well sorted, and everyone tenderly cared for as Your plans for us play out in the tapestries You never cease weaving and the prophesy You never cease speaking.

I find that now, when I’m walking a path figuratively and literally, I stop and look back, make sure to change direction and listen for Your whisper that You are near, and all is well. It is surprising what one can see from a different direction. You are as close as my next breath, in the breeze, soothing me in the shade of Your presence and restoring me with a different perspective. A change of scenery can make such a difference to a wearied and stubborn soul. I’m learning that down every path He takes us, there is always a place to stop, rest a while and change direction.

Light

The first gentle rays of sunrise bathe the cluster of Redwoods in a pale, quiet glow. The forest air is crisp and clean as it sheds the last vestiges of night.

Nature’s early risers watch and wait. They are eager to greet the new day with gossip and chatter. The early light calls them to bring their songs and joy to the new morning. The undergrowth is full of rustles and kicked about leaves as the hunt for seeds and insects begins.

Shadows and light play off of each other illuminating swaths of the leafy forest floor as the sun makes its ascent. Sunbeams filtering through the branches catch and backlight tiny dust motes trapped in the air. It feels supernatural how the rays of light are so concentrated, yet gentle, like a divine spotlight that pierces and penetrates, exposing everything to the pure, beautiful light. Each beam highlights and dances over the branches, trunks and leafy bushes, casting an ethereal and other worldly glow to the waking forest. One might expect angels to move in this mysterious light. Whispers of the divine abound.

The crooked curve of a branch, sharp, rough edges of tree bark, mossy growth and choking poison ivy that entwines as it creeps up the tree trunks are laid bare in the light. Everything stands out in stark relief. Even dead, cracked branches that are brittle, hard and dull are bathed in light and a kind of loveliness is restored. Beauty found in unexpected places…

There are no secrets here. Nothing is hidden. The rough, sharp scars, the dead, ugly pieces, the mossy growths and random vines threatening to suffocate the beauty of the trees, are naked and exposed in the lovely, glowing light. Holy.

Transformation happens in the Light. All is revealed and can be made whole again. We can find beauty in the dead, scarred places when the One who pierces the darkness with His breath, His gaze, and His thoughts turns His eyes to those unlovely parts that we so desperately want to hide. Shame is exposed and covered with grace. Wounds are bound and healed as life and prophesy are breathed over them. He makes beautiful things out of the dark, hidden places. Scars show perseverance and victory, dead places are pruned and healed, curves and bumps become testimony and entangling vines are exposed and burned away in the Light.

His Light can feel harsh, painful and exposing. It takes courage to stand in it and let the Light do its healing work. But the end result will reap untold, eternal benefits. Joy will come in the morning, when the Morning Star covers and bathes our exposed and vulnerable parts with soft, healing, lovely Light.

The Park Bench and the Willow Tree

The Park Bench and the Willow Tree

Gentle sunbeams peek through the branches and leaves of the willow tree. The soft light covers one edge of the wooden park bench beneath its branches.

The sun hasn’t been up for long. The spring morning is quiet and cool after a clear and chilly night. The newly budding leaves are vibrant and proud. They take their job seriously as the giver of shade to the bench and those who visit it.

They are a pair, these two, often referred to as the “willow bench” by those who find solace in its shade and peace from the view of the lovely little park. The things they have heard and seen in their years together – laughter and tears, joy and pain, love and heartbreak. Anxiety and fear are lifted and soothed as the Creator’s breath blows healing in the breeze rustling the leaves and cooling the bench-sitter.

His whispered healing is found in bird song, critter antics, fellow bench sitters and simply the peace and quiet where words are not needed; where love flows and tenderly holds the wounds poured out in the freedom found under the sweeping branches.

The willow and the park bench have seen seasons come and go. Spring, with the burst of new growth and gentle light from the sun encouraging park visitors to venture out and soak up the warmth.

The coming of Summer invites families, groups, picnics and summer games of baseball, frisbee throwing and kite flying with the bench and the willow providing shade and rest.

In the Fall, the leaf-peepers and lovers of the season, with their hoodies and warm drinks in hand, walk the park with anticipation of the changing colors and that feeling of slowing down, coziness and letting go that Fall always conjures.

There are less visitors in Winter when the cold descends, and glimpses of the sun are few and far between. The park folds in on itself as the work of deep rest and hidden growth takes place.

Then there are the faithful ones who visit the bench and the willow no matter the season. They have experienced peace and deep rest here. The wooden bench and gnarled willow are old friends who know all the secrets and pining of the heart and accept and embrace it without words. These park-goers have felt the divine whispers and heavenly songs breathed out over them while sitting in nature’s silence. They have allowed the healing and supernatural presence of the Creator to bind up wounds and lift heavy burdens. With ears that hear and eyes that see, what is sought can be found in the most ordinary and beautiful places.

The Creek

There is a little hollow with a bubbly creek running through it. You can find it if you listen.

A lovely jaunt through some meadow grasses will get you there.

The gentle willow trees sway and beckon, “Come, and sit a while.”

The only sounds are nature’s chatter and the swish of grasses and wildflower stems as they rustle against booted feet making their way to the water.

A slight dip in the path and you are there.

The gurgling creek splashes happily over some stones and fallen, decaying branches. The rivulets and tiny waterfalls rush and dash through the haphazard obstacle course.

On the opposite side of the creek the paws of the early risers have left their unique imprints. The routine of it is calming to consider.

The bank of the creek is dotted with a variety of wildflowers, all adding their color and charm to the hollow. Small yellow flowers on their tall, leggy stems seem to love the chaos of the breeze that randomly tosses them about. The purple-y blue flowers growing close to the ground create a lovely and fragrant carpet. Bold white flowers lift their faces upward to the patches of sun filtering through the drooping willow branches.

Downstream the water has slowed and taken on a lazy pace. Widening into a small pool that flows gently around the roots of an old tree, one wonders what creek dwellers make this restful pool their home.

At the edge, tiny fish dart in and out of watery shadows and the quick Boatman skip atop the quiet water. The grumpy, red-orange crawdad silently waits under a ledge of roots, motionless and spying.

Little plip-plop sounds come from the far edge of the pool – small frogs perhaps?

The tranquility of nature with its calming rhythms of sound, light and timeless order soothe and quiet a restless soul. The pull of it is ancient and constant.

Accepting the willow trees’ invitation to sit for a while, the weight of all you have been carrying lifts and floats – up, up to One who gives rest and peace. He is there in the light that sifts through the branches giving warmth and safety.  He can be found in the cooling breezes that kiss and skim the skin. The Divine whispers and sings all around you, as He leads you beside the still waters and restores your soul.

Book Release! Divine Appointments…

DIVINE APPOINTMENTS…IS LIVE – published and ready to go on Amazon as eBook/Kindle or paperback! It will soon be available at Barnes & Noble online, Books a million, Thriftbooks, Walmart and other online retailers. I cannot wait for you to get a copy in your hands and let me know what you think!!!

Please share and help me get the word out 🙂 You can visit my author page on FB @MelissaGiomiauthor and IG: @melissa.giomi

I am thankful and honored that so many of you have been on this author journey with me for the past 2 years. It means more to me than you know to have support, encouragement and prayers for this book and Divine Encounters…to accomplish what God has planned for them. It has been such a fun and exciting journey and I’m hopeful there are more books to come 🙂

Cheers and happy reading!

Coming very soon!

Hi everyone! Divine Appointments…will be live and published this month! Uploading to Amazon as eBook/Kindleand paperback has begun and both will soon available. I cannot wait for you all to get book #2 in your hands!

Thank you so much for the continued support – it is much appreciated and so very valuable to self-published authors.

Cheers!