Tuesday, December 24, 2013


The people in the blue coiffed jackets get nervous when you get too close.

They prey on the ones who wish they were right inside the pictures.

Right inside the Monets and Picassos and Renoirs.

We know.


We wrangled the three blondes through the fine arts museum today.

As I followed my four loves through the traveling Impressionist exhibit - I thought I might explode from the exquisite inspiration.

The paintings from that period have scratched an itch I didn't know I had.

Flipping through a few loaned art books from the library this fall....I fell in love with the artwork of those 19th century, Paris abiding virtuosos....many of which I do not share beliefs or convictions - but many of whom etched delightful scenes that spoke to me loud and sweet. Their pieces at the exhibit today - carried me away.

Degas' dancers.
Renoir's peonies.
Sisley's apples and grapes

All beautiful. All brilliant.

And then there are those other artist from other genres and other times....who painted whimsically and who captured perfectly and who left dabs of painted passion on canvas.

Derby's moonlit nights
Reynold's portraits
Navez's Thomas

Yes...that one. That image of the doubter inspecting Christ's wounds....faith unraveling right in front of his face....a moment of realization captured right there within a frame.

It was a sort of a mirror. Me there...always inspecting, always finding Him.

Seeing paint put to my own thoughts....it's superb satisfaction.

The children.....were captivated by the large escalators - not the Caillebottes.

That's fair. Going up and down on a silver moving apparatus is indeed quite fun. Understood.

But me.....oh, the day pleased me greatly.

Before I could even get through the exhibit I had to fetch my notebook....because the words were spilling quick.

Art inspired art.

Impressionist impressed.

Drawing drew me.

And this early Christmas present from my mate and my moppets - it catapulted me into goal mode...into inspiration...into a sort of peaceful planning for the year ahead. 

And I needed that. Ailments and scares and laundry and dishes and tight budgets and doling out discipline day after day can sometimes leave a lady void of creativity and vision. It can leave her thankful and blessed...but also a bit brain short.

So, considering the superior art work today - turned the tables.

These next few hours - as we stop to consider our Savior Jesus.....I pray we catch a glimpse of the all out beauty and perfection of His love and gift - and that it finds it's way right into the heart places that need it most.

As a result....

May inspiration be yours. May hope rise high. And may His good plans and purposes for you....

come forth all year long.

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Finding Him

Early in the morning hours yesterday we sat at the dining table and feasted on Words.

We try to make this happen every cockcrow...before the phonics books flip open and the math equations scrawl across the board.

Most of the time it happens. Some of the time it doesn't. But yesterday - the agenda was actually going as planned as we grabbed our Bibles.... when all the sudden my oldest glanced down the hall and gasped......

.... at the sight of sunbeams.

They were filtering in through the tiny half circle of a window that sits in the top portion of our front door - and they were downright radiant.

Our psalmist (and middle child) got up out of her hand-me-down dining chair to run and see what was causing the awe.

When she stopped and looked and considered those rare light streams - nothing but pure sweetness sprung forth...

"Mommy, it looks like God is coming in."

I nodded....taken aback.

Creation had revealed the Creator - before we even had a chance to find Him in the Scripts.

He speaks in more ways than one, doesn't He? He can be found in the jots and tittles of the Bible, yes. But also in nature and Spirit-inspired inklings and.....

the words of little children.

Just a few days ago - we set a celery stem in a glass of water - and dropped in globs of dark purple dye. As the leaves of that celery began to turn a deep violet hue...the blondes and I marveled. The simple yet intelligent design of root, stem, leaf, flower - and the way they receive water.... 

.....it's just pure brilliance.

And evidence.

And glee!

Sprawled out on a bed of clover yesterday - I just lounged and looked up.

Sky and sun and and toasty Texas breeze - it fed me. And it encouraged. And it allowed me to let loose of the serious things that have weighted down my mind this past month.

He meant for nature to help us know Him.
He meant for us to be moved by His designs.
He intended for faith to grow.....as we consider things that grow.

The 19th Psalm says it all.

Go read it.

Then go explore it.

Then go experience it.

Because yes it's true.....we can find God when we open up His Book. But we can also find Him when we open up our doors to go see and hear and taste what He has lovingly given. He's in it all.



If your heart seems far from faith today - or you're dealing with the ugly things this world can behold....know that you are not the only one. Yours truly here has, and is, dealing with some too.

Life is not all roses. I don't wear those glasses anymore.

But this week - He really did speak in the simple and the natural and the growing.

'God really did come in.'

Tuesday, December 10, 2013


Our lyric girl has turned herself right into a psalmist.

Right into a praying, spinning, piroetting poet.

Her and her long blonde tendrils - they sway as she speaks to Him.

And it all together makes me swoon over all four years of her.

And this....this performing of prayers....it's something that dropped clear into her heart from Elsewhere.

Because....there isn't a soul in this house that sings prayers. We say prayers, yes. But no singing. The rest of us, especially the Daddy and I, aren't known for our vocal prowess or our tendency to make melody.

But this girl we have - she just started bubbling up 'song prayers' a few weeks back...and has hence forth.

These verses that she vocalizes -it's as if the Holy Spirit homespun them right in the depths of her young compassion. The things she prays....they are theologically sound. They are simple, but knowing. They are prophetic and filled with genuine faith. They are Truth wrapped in preschool dialect.

And it all just unravels her tightly wound and highly strung mother.

And.... it works.

Saturday night - the one I wed was watching our wee ones....when the littlest fell ill. His temperature rose high to the hundreds....and his lethargic state was starting to concern my husband.

Our girl got up - all barefoot and pure.... and sang prayers over our fevered boy baby. She wasn't asked....she just apparently yielded to the inner prompting.

Within an hour....our youngest got up off of his sick bed (Daddy's shoulder), got down, ran around...and started playing. When my husband checked his temperature it was exactly 98.6. He had received no medication. No treatment. No care.

Just song prayers.

He's been a happy, playful, mess-making little tot ever since.

Why doesn't this happen every time? What about those instances where prayers seem to go unheard and needs seem to go unmet? What about the gnarly back pain I'm dealing with? What about those loved ones just up the way dealing with loss and grief?

I hash those things out too, my friends.

We're on this side of glory.

But sometimes....oh sometimes.....

 a little bit of that Kingdom comes to this kingdom.

And more often than not....  

He swoops it in through the unlikely.

I can't end this piece.... without taking a cue from my middle born.....

Be encouraged.... knowing that I'm praying the following over each and every soul that stumbles upon this post, dear friends....yes, Lord.....each and every one.


Fill my reader with faith.
Fill her with an unfeigned, preschool-type understanding of you.
Open her up to what you have for her. 
Help her to hope.
Awaken her to the possibilities.
Push away the past that haunts and the events that disappoint.
Show her that indeed.....you.are.good.
And able.
And willing.
Anything in her heart that is tarnished and rubbed raw - smooth it over.
I ask boldly, Lord - for you to reveal Yourself to the mind, heart, and soul of every person that meanders this way - believer or not.
I thank you in advance for bringing this forth....and for even providing our very faith for us.

In Christ's holy and unparallelled name...amen.

Wednesday, December 4, 2013


There's a red kettle on my gas stove....that's about to do it's whistling.

There's a husband in the bathroom sheering off whiskers from his very fine face.

Three blondes have gone to bed.

Clothes are tumbling in the Maytag.

Small overnight suitcases line our master suite.....remnant of Thanksgiving.

Toys litter the living room.

Mama here is tired. All day with all three....can leave a lady happy weary.

The skies are leaking this eve and the clouds hover and the dark is pitch.

I sit here tonight...all wrung out from the day...just wondering.

Wondering about where we will wander. And thinking about what's best. And dreaming of all kinds of possibilities.

Here in a few moments.... the one with the whiskers and I....we will sip tea with propped feet... and discuss all our prospects.

Because this man I wed....he's a dreamer.

He's an all out visionary who rules nothing out, and who sees all things as possible, and who dares to believe in the wild....all through Him, for Him.

So here I am with this ten year old diamond on my hand- twirling it around my long left finger...knowing that the Lord is up to something in us.....and knowing that it's a crazy thrill ride to see it all unravel.

But this....this knowing that I go where he goes....knowing that this ring I spin will follow the band it matches....knowing that where the Spirit leads Him the Spirit leads me  - this is really something.

I don't follow many people. And I trust even fewer. And I have an affinity for fear. And I'm high on the cautious meter. 


This guy I love and hold .....I know Who he is striving to follow.

I know that this good man desires to hear and see what the Lord is inviting our family into. I know that it really isn't about him and his own fleshly will. I know that he longs to grow the Kingdom - and so he leans in to hear from the King.

And for a skiddish, skeptical, weak-kneed wife - this makes a world of difference.

When our loves chase after the One.....we know we're safe with our one and only.

Husbands.... take note of that. Wives, you too.

Some of his decisions may bring folly. He may get his wires crossed from time to time. His ability to take risks might end up in a mess. He's human - so you never know. But the more he leans in to Him - the more I let go.  The more I see the hand of God leading and placing and orchestrating this guy I love....the more I give in.

He's in there now....reading for his online course....soaking in all kinds of knowledge about missions and the nations and lost people groups and history.

And he loves this. And it's changing him. And it's giving him even more of a zeal for spreading gospel love....near and far.

And then there's me...punching away here....caught up in excitement and hope and nervousness.... over where He'll lead us.

As mentioned - the possibilities are endless.

And this can get a heart really pumping, can't it?

As long as we are being faithful to fiercely serve in the here and now, the current assignment - we are free to dream, and imagine, and hope for what may come.

As long as we are not using grand fantasies of the future to simply escape our current lot - it's good to be expectant.

This pessimistic heart of mine - needs to seize that more often.

So these night talks I have with the mister...they minister.

Tea, notebooks, dreams, light-filled schemes, a husband who looks to the Lord with a rock solid faith and a penchant for positivity - it blesses.

May much come from our little pow wows, Lord. May creativity fly. And discernment scream. And wisdom woo. 

And dear reader...I pray that over you, too.

Yes....praying purpose and direction and hope over every person that finds their way here this week.

Seize that.