Free Writing: Day 8

Today I read about our sister Jochabed, mother of Moses. I love peeling back the pages of the Bible and digging between the lines. There is great theology hiding in those spots! 

First, imagine how stressful it must have been to be pregnant while knowing the government has put a hit out on your baby if he is a boy. I wonder how many premies were born in those communities from that stress. There had to be some amped-up prayer lives as well--prayers to birth a girl instead of a boy, prayers for a quiet baby if he was a boy, and prayer for a reversal of that wicked edict. 

Our times are no different. A new president who said some reckless things during his campaign is enough to make us pray. Will he tick off the wrong country? Can we really trust him? How will his behavior reflect on us on the world stage? These are stressful times. Politics birth a lot of prayers.

Jochabed kept her baby hidden for three months. How did she do it? Babies sleep a lot in those first few weeks, but what did she do to keep him quiet after that? Did Moses have a favorite chew toy? Did Big Sister Miriam learn some tricks to keep him entertained? Did Jochabed teach Miriam to pray  for Moses' quietness when she tucked her in each night? 

It couldn't have been easy seeing her friends racked with grief over their own babies' deaths by crocodile and drowning. What if one of them grew jealous of her getting to keep her boy-child and reported her? 

 How did she know to prepare a waterproof basket on just the right bath day of Pharaoh's daughter? You I believe God spoke to her in whatever way he spoke to people back then. We can ask her when we get to Heaven, but I'm almost certain prayer was an ingredient in the mix of all of it. 

Then that day when Moses was found--don't you know Mom told Miriam to keep watch and that she coached her on what to say to the Princess? 

I love that Jochabed got paid to nurse her own baby. You already know she held her face extra close to him and as he drank her milk, her spirit deeply drank in every cherished moment that wasn't supposed to be. Something about looking in the face of a miracle that makes you want to shout and rejoice. You realize you are a character in a flipped script Whose Director and Producer is God. What are you living that is the result of a flipped script? Are you a cancer survivor? A recovering addict? A survivor of a financial crisis that would have made others jump from a building? Are you simply glad to be in your right mind after grief tried to run you out of it? What's your story of God's divine doings that are marvelous in your eyes? 

Finally, after Jochabed weaned her sweet Moses, she had to let him go. Don't tell me she didn't cry as he was taken away. I wonder what keepsake she handmade for him to take to the palace to remember her by? She had to comfort herself, "Cheer up. At least he isn't dead. You may never see him again, but you know where he is." Sometimes we have to choose to focus on the good that IS even when it's far from what we wanted. We must find joy where we can and hold on until the Lord sets all things right. 

Free Writing: Day 7

Have you ever had one of those days that felt like the brakes didn’t work? Yesterday was like that for me. I got up determined to do something good that would make me proud of myself if nothing else got done: I walked for thirty minutes while listening to peppy music. Then I cleared away the last bit of Christmas stuff in the shed and burned some things that were too big to fit into the trash can. I love living out in the country where I can do that. I could have gone on burning things for a while but knew I had other more pressing things to do like buy food.

Off to the grocery store I went. I was starving when I got there, and I knew better than to shop while ravenous. I bought a delicious toasted egg white sub with jalapenos and devoured it without washing it down with anything (I am on a savings kick and decided I could do without the purchase of a beverage). My leg started doing strange things while I walked around (so THIS is how old age creeps up on you!) and I made a note to never wear a certain pair of boots ever again lest I lame myself for life.

Grocery shopping done, I unloaded, showered, and headed off to a lunch date with a dear friend. I love her! She always feeds me and gives me glimpses into her life that give me hope for mine. She has struggled with things I am facing now, and God has brought her through. She also makes me feel like a kid sister. The older you get, the more you come to appreciate that.  She told me I am still young and that I have a lot ahead of me.

Next, I stopped by Walmart (I can never get everything in one trip without forgetting something. Even when I do the list thing, I forget the list or manage to forget something while looking right at it on the list. SIGH, the way of the perfectionist is hard!) I dashed off to see another friend and remained there until time to pick up hubby from work since one of our cars is down.

 I got home so tired my skull was numb. I dosed off thinking how I would not have a blog post for the real Day 7.

Can any of you relate to any of this?

This morning Hubby and I went to church, and it was so encouraging! Oftentimes, I feel I am just a hair away from falling off the wagon altogether and then I get to church and my pastor says something to help me to keep going a little while longer. God was smart when He said not to forsake getting together. He knew we would need constant doses of encouragement and that others would need it from us!  I got home roasted (tired). Took a delicious nap and then God did a merciful thing for me: He got me to sit my behind down in front of my computer and WRITE! It’s not as easy as you think, especially when you are looking at Mount Dissertation and everything in you is saying to go find stuff to burn. Praise God, I made strides.

That is all.  Please share: How did you spend your weekend?

Free Writing: Day 6

Dear Hurting Friend,

I know that the pain you feel right now seems like it will last forever. The shock has worn off and all of your emotional nerve endings seem twice as sensitive.

Do not despair. God is still there. Though you can’t see Him, know that He is touched with your suffering. Refuse to turn to anyone or anything else for what only He can give you. Don’t close yourself off from friends and family either. Solitude is the devil’s interrogation room where he hurls questions at you that you are too weak to answer right now. One word is all you need for now—one name, the Name: Jesus. It will send him running. He hates that name.

Don’t do anything rash, don’t make any important decisions while you are in this state of mind. You cannot be trusted to see clearly because you are feeling so deeply. Tread water for now.

Maybe you are grieving the loss of a loved one. Maybe you are disillusioned with someone who was supposed to be there but wasn’t. You may be boiling someone in the oil of your anger. You may just be sick and tired of yourself. No matter your cell block, allow the Lord to come sit with you in it.

How?

Open your Bible and read it. It’s OK if you are too upset to believe it will do any good. Even if you have to read through eyes blurred by tears or through eyes slitted with anger, I dare you to READ! I cannot explain how it works, but it does. It has to do with positioning yourself in the presence of God. even when you are mad at Him, it’s a way of saying in the language of the heart, “I am here. Help me. I am not sure all You said in the light is true in this dark place, but I am willing to let you show me.” Sometimes it’s not the reading of the words that bring healing, but where the thoughts of those words lead. Give God a chance to show Himself to you. Don’t rush it either. Stay there until He blesses you. Sometimes you come away with an answer, sometimes with a resolve to not give up just yet, sometimes with the reminder that although the clouds may be blocking the sun, the sun in still there! Either way, it’s hope!

Another path of breadcrumbs that will lead you out of the valley is to sing. If your heart is too heavy to move your lips, let the song hitch a ride on the cadence of your breathing. Pick any God-song and sing it. Music has a way of reaching crevices in the heart that words alone cannot. I’ve been there. The memory of His love for me that my emotions try to tell me isn’t there comes flooding back. Sometimes the sweetness of it sizzling against my hot anger, sorrow, or frustration emits an aroma that takes me back to my first love. Yours too.

The point is this: reach out to God when everything in you wants to pull away. It’s a decision you have to make. In response, He will take your hand and your heart and lead you in the way everlasting. Bless His name!

Free Writing: Day 5

Today I saw the movie, “Hidden Figures,” about three black women who played key roles in the United States space program in the 1960’s. When I saw the previews earlier last year, I couldn’t wait to see it.

I was so proud of those women, especially the brilliant mathematician. It reminded me of the day I taught our boys how God got the last laugh against racial prejudice when Jesse Owens won the gold for our county in the Olympics and Hitler would not shake Owens’ hand. God is in the business of breaking stereotypes and making fools of people who erect them.

As an African-American woman, I was especially proud because, according to society, I have two strikes against me: my color and my gender. I am thankful my parents made us girls aware that people think that way, but that it had nothing to do with what we could achieve.

Allow me to ramble a moment. I have noticed that in some circles of the black community, there is a defeatist mentality. There is the expectation that the answer will be no before even posing the question. There is the idea that whatever one is trying to attain, there is a loophole designed to disqualify them. I have seen people outside that mentality get mad at people inside it. They roll their eyes and shake their heads and accuse the insiders of being lazy or unwilling to try for whatever negative reason. May I suggest that sometimes, many times that negative mentality is attained honestly? One can get so used to being turned down that it is self-preservation to expect it so as to soften the blow. Those who have not experienced the no as many times assume it’s just in the insiders’ heads. It’s not—at least not all the time it isn’t.

I am thankful that my parents were believers that we could be achievers. Whether one is an insider or outsider, he or she can choose to look to their Creator to carve out a path that fits their feet. God can open a door no man can shut. This belief can make a body brave and encouraged to venture out against the odds. That goes for you, too, Dear Reader. Whatever you feel your disadvantage is, God already has an app for it. Your background, your insecurities, your shortcomings, your age, your credit score, lack of experience or education or any other lack--stack them all up on the scale together, put the God Who is for you on the other side and you win EVERY time!

One part of the story in the movie was intriguing to me. A Caucasian woman in authority told one of the characters that she really had nothing against “them” to which the black lady replied, “Yes, I am sure you believe that.” I, too, have run into people who pride themselves in being open-minded and unbiased, but they’re not. It does no good to point that out to them unless they are ready to change it . I believe they have a blind spot that was given to them by their parents and others who didn’t know any better or didn’t care to change it if they did know. Nobody is as pure in thought or motives as he believes. It’s an area that needs growth like any other part of our character.

I believe I am in a unique position. I am an African-American woman who has spent most of her life with white friends and church members. I understand things that the average black person doesn’t about white people. And vice-versa. The hackles and defenses are up on both sides and only a genuine desire to see things from the other side’s perspective will yield significant results. It’s happening in some pockets of the world, but it needs to be more widespread.

Free Writing: Day 4

Today’s writing prompt is to write about writing. What do I love about it? What do I hate? Where do I struggle?

Here goes:

I love writing because it is a world in which I feel understood. When I am writing, I am initially writing to myself. I always understand exactly what I mean. It is my home turf, a place where I feel I belong and am always welcomed. It’s a canvas on which there is no wrong color to paint. Even if those words are ugly or selfish, they are what I feel at that moment and so no judging is appropriate. The attitude or emotion behind the words may be wrong, but the words themselves are honest and are not asking for anybody’s opinion. They are mine.

I love writing because it is the stage God provided for me as a young girl to express myself on when speaking my feelings were not allowed or were too scary to say aloud. I could write and vent and hide those words so nobody could see them. There was no scolding or chiding or ridiculing when I wrote. It was an outlet that was God’s way of letting me relieve the pressure of anger, frustration, fear, or even the overwhelming infatuation I had for a ninth-grade boy who didn’t know this seventh-grade girl thought he looked like a Greek god as his lanky figure floated to his locker each day.

I love writing because it gave me a sense of worth before I had time to learn Who Jesus is. My seventh-grade creative writing notebook always had an A+ along with a “Good job” or “excellent,” or “very imaginative,” or some other word of encouragement. In my world where I was daily reminded I didn’t fit in, writing was the one thing that made me feel special-that I could actually do something well.

I love writing because it is an opportunity for the wind of the Spirit to blow and a tune with colors that are uniquely mine grace the mind. I can show His workmanship by just being who He created me to be in Christ Jesus or out.

I love writing because it is a wonderful chance to be of help to somebody I may never meet or to someone I love or anyone who needs encouragement. It’s a chance to kiss a soul without their feeling violated. My dream is to write something that will scratch an itch that many have; to meet a need that God has chosen me to meet.

What do I not like about writing? That there are “higher ups” who have to use red pens to judge what I write. That there are rules for writing that I find confining and send me into hiding sometimes, most of the time. I gotta get over that if I am ever going to publish.

 I don’t like that the journey to publishing has to be so long and arduous and can, if I don’t fight it, suck the fun right out of writing.

 My struggles with writing? Feeling alone like nobody cares or has time to read what I have to write. It is their prerogative, I know, to read or not, but I struggle with feeling I should lighten up and know people are busy and don’t have or want time to read what I write. Writing has a way of revealing insecurities I have and lies I believe. Uncomfortable, but good for me—like spinach and exercise!

But I am thankful, though, for the gift of writing God has given me. It’s my friend that I neglect too often. I love it and pray God puts it in front of the eyes of people who would be encouraged, inspired, comforted, challenged, and moved to consider and love and know God better.

Free Writing:Day 3

  

Somewhere in the wee hours of New Year’s Day, I awoke with a single word on my mind: diligence. I choose to believe it was God’s challenge to me for the year. There are several projects I need to finish that I have lagged in my enthusiasm to complete. I have been asking God to do some things in my life, and I sense Him saying He won’t answer those prayers until I complete what He has already told me to do. 

I had a word another year that I forgot before the year was over. I did not want that to happen this time, so I had a friend make some reminders to display in key places at my house and job. 

An interesting thing started happening in my endeavor to be diligent. While I felt God’s favor in the efforts He had spoken regarding the things I must complete first before He gave further direction, I sensed Him shaking His head, “No,” at other things I thought He wanted. In a way only He can, He showed me I had made inaccurate assumptions about what He deemed worthy of my diligence. I thought working toward a spotless home was surely part of His call to diligence, but I felt Him gently say, “That's not something I want you pouring excessive energy into. Instead, exert more energy into intentionally  praying for the lost people in your life. Open your eyes to the needs of people in your circle of influence and devote energy to meeting them according to My promptings.” Now, you know God is not saying to keep a dirty house. He values cleanliness, but He knows that any effort can be done to excess to the neglect of more important pursuits. 

What about you? Where is God calling you to de-emphasize? Could it be in the area of keeping up outer appearances at the expense of spiritual calisthenics? Perhaps rushing through everything is your weakness. When we rush, we miss platinum opportunities to change someone’s day or even their life. Maybe it’s a call to cease the draining exercise of trying to please everybody or of pretending to feel or to be something that is not real or true. 

For years now, Jesus has been opening my eyes to the fact that what a successful life looks like can be much less draining than the one I thought He wanted of me. I am increasingly aware that the enemy is a hard slave driver. He keeps adding to the list while brow-beating me “in the name of Jesus” for not  being good enough in what I am already doing. That is nothing like the way of my Meek-and- Lowly-in-Heart Jesus Who said His yoke is easy and His burden is light. 

Diligence has become my friend and in just these few days of this new year, I am discovering a different pitch and tone of love in God’s voice I never knew was there. 

Free Writing: Day 1

Hello Friends,
Some days I think it's time to pull the plug on this blog. Other days, it's the thrill of my day to publish something. I really do love to write, I just wish I was disciplined enough to do it regularly.
I have joined an online writing group that encourages its members to write at least 500 words a day by following writing prompts. It's been great!
Know what I discovered? I make writing harder than it needs to be. I am a perfectionist and the desire to polish every sentence and deliberate over word choices has kept my postings meager.
So for the remainder of this month, I beg your indulgence as I send out less-than-perfect posts. Don't judge me if I miss a day or two. Also, know that my topics may be random, but that's why it's called free writing, right? (That last sentence was for my benefit. The struggle is real, people! )
Thanks in advance for taking the time.
Most sincerely,
Georgia