1 Peter 5:7::Cast your care.

1 Peter 5:7  (NIV)
7 Cast all your care on him because he cares for you.

I have been struggling for a while. Living in big and small change. Brilliant successes and some significant strife seem to be the sign posts on my path for now. And, I confess, I've felt a distance in the way I approach God. I allow so many little things to get in the way of the deeply needed deep connection.

I woke early this morning and mindlessly picked up my phone to check the old Instagram and saw a favorite sister in the faith's post. It's all about trusting God. Allowing the Author to be the Perfector.

Oh. Yes. That.

I think I distilled my early life training to the core idea that I might have to figure it out myself. I know this is wrong, but I've muscled through and made it right for years and years and years. I've also proven it quite wrong. So what do you do with that? Why is this the default when I have so much evidence in the opposite direction. Well? I forget.

This morning what I did is remember.

I remembered my table is never set for one. It is always (at least) me with God.
Today, I slipped out of my thinking, and let Him bring deep words of deep connection through a devotional reminding me to cast my care/anxiety/frustration/confusion in His direction -- on my Father's altar. Maybe even on His lap.

The way I see it, He woke me. He let me get to that place in the IG world. Then He whispered - grab the book and meet me at the table.

I remember.
I am my Father's and He is mine. He has never said to me: figure it our yourself. Rather, He whispers something lovely from His Word sounding like: come on Sweet Girl, I have this side of the yoke. Slip your head in here and let my strength lighten the load, the burden and maybe, let's talk about the thanksgiving and gratitude you have for who you are in me. Perhaps we could start there and watch the path smooth a bit. You can trust me. You can choose to cast those cares in my direction. I care about you.

Surprised by art

Ok, advanced upon by the Holy Spirit to create, which feels like play is getting to be rather funny.

First, I've found that I have more supplies than I'll ever need. Yes, over time I've collected things. I'm guessing I believed that in purchasing these elements, I was also purchasing time. Or permission to play rather than work. Ughh! Life is a process. A journey. A long walk. And now that I'm paying attention to what I'm hearing, I'm having an awful lot of fun and finding an abundance of joy and love along the way.

So, today, I took the day off so my mom and I could use theatre tickets for a matinee of Harmony at the Ahmanson. My dear husband suggested the Wednesday matinee. (He was born on the left coast but he's more like a New Yorker without the subway tokens. Every theatre on Broadway has a Wednesday matinee, so L.A. must, goes the logic.) I snagged the day. Mom was in. The kids had plans and rides, so off I am. I planned breakfast with my Dear, then a little art time, then, the shower and the drive to the Ahmanson.

On a whim, my darling checked the time and, surprise!, we'll be seeing the Saturday show. Los Angeles does not have a Wednesday matinee. All of this is simply to say that here I am, with a free day to play with the art and reorganize a few supplies I've recently repatriated.

Along the way, I made this cute book for my friend Joan.

I'm all so joyously surprised that I feel the call to artishness and, that I'm obeying.

So I continue to wonder, "What's He doing?"

Enough:: From abundance.

My flowers in Laura's home. 

When we recognize all we have, really notice all we have, we see that we live in abundance. 

And in that, there is much I want to share. The fun part is this: I think it's gone, whatever it is, and somehow, it returns. 

This morning it was cutting from my pink and lavender abundance. Within an hour, my heart filled looking at the picture of the Sweet Peas in Laura's house. 

Last weekend it was offering these same beautiful flowers to my sweet neighbor, Mrs. A. Within minutes, my other neighbor Anne passed a handful on to me. 

Love is enough when you pass it out, hand it off, give it away. 
Like the Sweet Peas it keeps blooming. 
But Love, unlike the Sweet Peas, is eternal. 

And that is truly enough. 

My One Word: enough:: Women who Love

My one word journey led me to a wonderful women's online magazine: SheLoves. I've read a bit, you'd like it. And as I perused I noticed a manifesto for women who love completely. It starts with

Let us be women who Love.

Let us be women willing to lay down our sword words, our sharp looks, our ignorant silence and towering stance and fill the earth now with extravagant Love.

Let us be women who Love.

Let us be women who make room

.Let us be women who open our arms and invite others into an honest, spacious, glorious embrace.

It goes on. You can read it here. But before you go, really read these words. "Let us be willing to lay down our sword words..." I think about the girls on my daughters volleyball team who can level each other with a word, "...move your feet," or an eye roll at a misstep. I think about my friend who is proud of the fact that she needs only one word and a look to make her point. I recall the biting words leaving my mouth in frustration at an co-worker, a sister, my child. I wonder what it would be like if we all agreed that we didn't need to take ground, show some one, or make a point. But instead, loved. Made room. Opened our arms and invited others into an honest, spacious, glorious embrace.

We'd have enough and we'd offer enough. (Extravagant love rears it's beautiful head again.)

For me, I'll live in the first stanza this week and I don't think I'll wait for the rest of the we. I have the will and the Spirit driven power to simply love, without the sword words, offering room.

I have that to offer and to share.

My One Word: enough:: Your Love

This word enough is interesting.

Last Monday, I was invited to a private concert with Casting Crowns. Me, my lovely friend Lori, and about 148 others I've not yet met. We were sitting in the chapel at Mariners Church and then, all of a sudden, we were singing with Casting Crowns, listening to their stories and worshipping.

That is more than any enough I can think of. 

It felt a lot like abundance.

Especially when Lori bought lunch.

Today I was listening again to Casting Crowns.
And I began to muse over the words of Your Love is Extravagant.

These words connected so beautifully to my one word: enough.

In God's economy, extravagance, His gifts, become my enough.

Your love is extravagant
Your friendship, it is intimate
I feel like moving to the rhythm of Your grace 
Your fragrance is intoxicating in our secret place
Your love is extravagant

Spread wide in the arms of Christ is the love that covers sin
No greater love have I ever known You considered me a friend
Capture my heart again

Spread wide in the arms of Christ is the love that covers sin
No greater love have I ever known; You considered me a friend

Capture my heart again
Your love is extravagant
Your friendship, it is intimate


How about it? How do you connect with the extravagance of grace?

One Word: enough :: a phone call

Last night I went through the endless phone messages that we just don't get to on the answering machine. Well! I guess I use my cell phone more than I thought. Note. And there was that mishap with Kohl's where in the midst of the holidays a bill wasn't paid and they called fifteen times. Note. Paid. Done. Oh dear.

About seven calls in I heard his voice. My wonderful pastor Harold. "Beautiful ones. I noticed you haven't been here in a couple of weeks and just want to remind you, you're loved..." And while he goes on it hits so hard.

The weeks away, first a sick child.
Then a group oversleep.
Then just a week away.
They all added up and they all mattered to someone else.

I felt, I knew, that my little choices to be home for a bit might be noticed or counted. Might be.

My church is going through upheaval. Upheaval is to be expected when your stated mission is to plant 100 churches in 40 years. One and two went by and the shift wasn't so big. Three was painful, my favorite young pastor and his sweeter than sweet wife moved into Compton to establish their church and of course, friends went with them. Friends I love and friends I haven't met but made up the tapestry of our church, their side of the room, their row. Many church plants later we're ok. The occasional twinge of loss is there, but overall, we're good. But then two pastors felt called, together, to plant fairly nearby. Several people, mostly from my service felt moved to move.

The pain comes slowly because families think and decide and stay away for a while and then go. A month ago, it felt to me like I was wearing twenty bandaids and they would be taken off one-by-one and rather slowly. Painful.

So when my girl wasn't feeling well, I climbed into bed and with her and snuggled. Safe and warm. I didn't think of the feeling. I was away. But as I write, I see we became an empty set of chairs. Someone else's removed adhesive.

Then the words: "Beautiful ones..."
I heard the voice of the man who taught me the words, grace stacked on grace. I hear his inflection, his determination, his love. For a moment, I remember how he asked me to stand shoulder-to-shoulder to work and love and watch what God would do. Remembered his reminder at my grandmother's funeral and then my other grandmother's graveside memorial, that God's oceanic love is enough.

Enough.

Enough.

It takes courage to carry on. It takes grace and peace and it takes just a word to remember that courage and love and peace can all be borrowed and shared and that much of the time, we don't even know we're loaning. We just standing there. Shoulder-to-shoulder with word of song coming from our hearts and it matters.

Enough.

Love Wins.

Love never fails. 1 Corinthians 13:8a

Love always wins. Always. God's love is always the choice that won't fail. Any other choice is taking a chance. So, practically speaking, I can always stop to ask, "What would Love do in this case?" The answers, so far, have been pretty amazing for me.

"He took my chair!" resounds from the kitchen. I stop my natural response and ask, "What would Love do?" Well, God actually tells me that if someone takes something from me, I shouldn't even try to get it back (Luke 6:30). I proceed from there. Later, some precious child of God in a brand new German touring vehicle cuts me off on the freeway - in my lane. Love resounds in my ear, "Give to anyone who asks;  and when things are taken away from you, don't try to get them back." (Luke 6:30) I choose Love. It wins.

If I play out the alternative scenarios, I see why any other option bring failure or worse. If I respond naturally - out of my flesh - and demand my space or my way, I become resentful and angry. I act out of frustration, and even if I don't hurt someone else, I've lost the peace that selfless, Christ-love brings. Sometimes, I even hear God's wisdom to pray or bless the person who took my lane, my chair, or my peace. I suppose the irony is that whenever I choose Love, I win too. In the sacrifice, in the obedience because Love always wins. Always.

LORD God, thank you for your Word that shows us the way of Love and Life. Teach us daily and in every situation what Love - what You would do .