Digging Deep; Just Not In Soil

The sun peaks through the clouds.

It is still a little cool.

We women gather on the farmhouse lawn. 

Steam rises from mugs of hot coffee and tea. 

We dig deep into the Word. 

Wrestling with how to live as Christ.
Verse by verse we unpack the wisdom. 

There is openness and sharing. 

Women in community. 

I gaze around the group. 

One I mentored. Now married with a young child. 

Another visiting from out of state.

Friends I know well. 

Some, the friendship, just unfolding. 

Women. Seeking to live differently. 

A desire.  

Intentionally gathering. 

We pray. 

We desire a heart like Christ. 

And it's only in the pouring out and emptying that we can be filled. 

Colossians 2:6

Therefore as you have received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him,  having been firmly rooted and now being built up in Him and established in your faith, just as you were instructed, and overflowing with gratitude.

Over flow your life with gratitude. 

Let go of the bitterness and griping. 

Release the ties that bind. 

Rest in the grace so freely given. 

We're new creations. 

The old is gone. 

The new is come. 

The Heartbeat Of Women

It's right there on the return address label. 

I am surprised by the emotion it evokes.

I shouldn't be. 

I should be used to this by now

But I'm not. 

Rose Bud Lane it says. 

Someone lives at Rose Bud Lane. 

It stirs in me that raw, yet warm memory feeling. 

Mom called Clarissa, "Rose Bud".

Dad called her Rag Weed. 

 Mom; gone now to live with Jesus. 

Dad; companion with the memory thief. 

 Rose Bud was the perfect name. 

She was rosy and sweet when she was born.
I dressed her in everything pink.

I treasured all the sweetness wrapped in that bundle.

And now she has the most contagious and infectious laugh. 

She has joy and confidence.

Her eyes sparkle when she laughs and the days of Rose Bud seem so long ago.

She spends the day fasting and raising support for World Vision. 

She brings God's love to a local kid's group. 

I spend the day with women. 

 We hear the journey of one woman. 

It is good to hear the faith journey's of each other. 

It is good to share them. 

We are strengthened by the stories. 

In some way we can connect. 

Something said, stirs in us. 

It is the way of our ancestors.

Quilting and canning gatherings.

Times to share, talk and work. 

Times of encouragement when winters were long. 

Times of Fellowship when the sun warmed the earth. 

So much we have pushed aside. 

No time for gatherings and sharing. 

We are too busy with the bustle of the urgency. 

We race from one activity to the other all in the name of "what's best" for our kids. 

But I wonder. 

Have we got it all wrong? 

In the desire to move away; to be independent of our families have we destroyed what God intended? 

We have lost community;

the gatherings and sharing of work. 

Reminders of; you are not alone, echo through my mind. 

They are the heartbeat of this country. 

They are the heartbeat of this farm. 

Barn raising's and spontaneous gatherings are terms that resonate within us; 

a picture of groups working together to create community.

Maybe it's time to clear the calendar.

Forget about how clean the house is or what someone might think. 

Forgo the movie and forge a new relationship. 

Invite someone over. 
The Rose Bud label was from a woman.
Sharing a book.
Reaching out.
Walking the journey with me. 

It's time to be real.

Time to listen to the stories that long to be told.

Offer to help a friend with a project. 

Be intentional about gathering. 

Be intentional about listening.

We each have needs and we don't have to do it alone. 

We can be the hands and feet of Jesus. 

Showing love to all as we walk this journey. 

Clarissa comes home. 

She is reflective. 

She has been with others. 

She has fasted in the name of World Hunger, 

she has shared God's love. 

It changes you. 

Colossians 3:17

And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, 

do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, 

giving thanks to God the Father through him.

Little Giggles And Big Tears. . . Filled The Gaping Hole

It's the beginning of March. 

And it's cold. 

The bone chilling, deep freeze of February hasn't lost it's grip. 

The farmer is so cold. 

He can't seem to get warm. 

These are just some of the changes that cancer will make. 

Sometimes the whole picture is just so overwhelming I can't even look. 

The strength to move forward waning 

Today I was reminded of the beauty of relationship and the power of woman being together. 

The beauty of grace and corporate prayer. 

I was reminded of sweet children and little laughs and big tears. 

I gathered up all those pieces today and filled the huge hole in my heart.

 I stuffed each laugh and tear right into the hole.  

I took big breaths when I thought of Elijah as a little boy.

I squeezed my eyes tight when I remembered those days of  5 children and car seats and diaper bags. 

I swallowed hard at the hopes that are dashed. 

I rested in the comfort of being with women; of seeking God's direction. 

Tonight when I climbed those stairs to say good night to the kids. 

I paused in his doorway. 

I breathe in deep the scent that has dissipated.
Longing for something tangible that can't be. 

I leaned against the door frame and resisted the desire to shout and beg why. 

Instead, I said goodnight, I miss you so very much. 

And I held my heart. And I took those big breaths and thought of the giggles and tears. 

I pushed them further into the hurt. 

I slowly walked down those stairs. 

Cedric was still out. 

The uneasy feeling began to creep in. 

Isaiah 26:3-4

You keep him in perfect peace
    whose mind is stayed on you,
    because he trusts in you.
Trust in the Lord forever,
    for the Lord God is an everlasting rock.

It's the feeling I had every time Elijah left the house. 

I need to grasp the truth. 

I open the Ancient Word to my reading. 

God was with those Israelites. Every step they took. 

I need to lean into that grace. I need to hold on tight to the promises. 

I can not do one step of this weary journey on my own. 

God will never turn his back on me. 

So, I will reach out. 

I will rest. 

I will hope. 

He will meet me there. 

This mountain rises highter. The way seems so unclear
But I know you go with me so I will never fear
I will trust in you
Whatever will come our way. . . 
We won't be shaken. . . 
Together we will rise and sing. 

Building 429  We Won't Be Shaken