Knit

There are few things that allow “stillness” in my mind.

With two crazy little tooters, quiet is a precious commodity! So much so that  I’ll often just sit in the quiet when I’m alone. Listening to the clock ticking in the other room.

On most days however, quiet is not easy to come by.

So, I Knit.

I learned when I was a little girl, but favored crochet instead. As an adult I hate to crochet and rather love the clicking of my needles.

I’ve been at the “intermediate” level for quite a long while, but I”m ok with that!

I don’t do it for beauty…or to make cozy socks that are multi-colored.

I knit for peace.

Yarn holds a peace about it for me.

I can walk around inside my mind when I knit.

I pray and commune with the Father. Asking questions that I’m afraid to let past my lips. {We’ve been hashing out those questions for a while now…maybe we’re getting somewhere…maybe we’ll still be working it out years from now.}

For some reason, with Yarn in hand,  I can be more real with HIM and be unashamed of who the inside Shannon is. The girl who is just a little girl needing her ABBA to hold her and just BE with her!

I can put aside tradition and the “Christian” persona, and just be me.

I’m more me when I knit.

Does that sound odd?

I hope that all of us find some place or something that gives us that kind of freedom.

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The Word IS

I’ve been thinking  about THE WORD this week.

How LIVING it is.

How Amazing that THE ETERNAL KING wrote a love letter-instruction manual-sweet  TRUTH to me.

“What is man that Thou art mindful of him?”

Dust.

He remembers that we are such, yet speaks to us anyway.

It’s mind blowing!

Astonishing…Unfathomable.

Yet TRUE!

I have many versions that I switch between . Some sit on the shelf collecting dust, some are highlighted so much that it looks like a rainbow has bled on the pages. Some are new…pages crispy and clinging together.

Others are “old”. Used much. Notes written in every possible space. I look forward to the day when I’ll need duct tape to hold the binding on.

It’s true, the whole “hidden Your words in my heart” thing.

I find that when I need HIS words most, they are there.

Whispered in the quiet…in the crazy…in the “what now?” …in the tears.

He’s amazing that way! Always present yet not intrusive.

I had a Youth Pastor once say that Jesus was a Gentleman…GENTLE yet Strong and Brave!

………………..

I had the honor of speaking to a new friend this morning.

Loving her through a heartache.

I realized hours later that I’d given her the wrong Scriptures as “homework”.

Yet, when I looked up and read the passage I did give her, HE WAS FAITHFUL YET AGAIN!

Because:

The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they reveal knowledge.
They have no speech, they use no words;
no sound is heard from them.
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world.
In the heavens God has pitched a tent for the sun.
It is like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,
like a champion rejoicing to run his course.
It rises at one end of the heavens
and makes its circuit to the other;
nothing is deprived of its warmth.

The law of the Lord is perfect,
refreshing the soul.
The statutes of the Lord are trustworthy,
making wise the simple.
The precepts of the Lord are right,
giving joy to the heart.
The commands of the Lord are radiant,
giving light to the eyes.
The fear of the Lord is pure,
enduring forever.
The decrees of the Lord are firm,
and all of them are righteous.

They are more precious than gold,
than much pure gold;
they are sweeter than honey,
than honey from the honeycomb.
By them your servant is warned;
in keeping them there is great reward.
But who can discern their own errors?
Forgive my hidden faults.
Keep your servant also from willful sins;
may they not rule over me.
Then I will be blameless,
innocent of great transgression.

May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart
be pleasing in your sight,
Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer. (Psalm 19)

 

Amen? AMEN!

My Offering

She’s been talking much about quiet and GROWING in Silence  and I hear the noise in me.

Prayer has become an enigma of sorts to me. I do it…a lot!

Attempting the “without ceasing” thing…but I find myself saying things in rote desiring to fill the space with word or thought.

Prayer…like so many things HE asks of us, is complex and simple.

Easy and Hard.

Close yet far away.

Part for us, part for communion and communication.

Difficult I guess. Not in a bad way…just in the fact that it is.

I love how the Catholic believers light candles and wear the rosary smooth. I love the repetition and the depth that comes with the idea of it all.

I love the stillness and the time spent.

I think we so often confuse prayer with worry.

“I’ll be praying for you.” becomes “i’m worrying for/with you” in our minds.

It’s not the same thing. IT’S THE OPPOSITE according to Philippians 4:4-7

 Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

She calls it a dance.

I’m leaning that way…loving the thought of being led in beauty. Catching a rhythm that moves more that my feet.

I think maybe it’s about offering somehow too.

Willingly surrendering time and thoughts.

Giving of self.

Surrendering to it. To HIM.

I love that it’s not ABOUT ME or what I want. It’s not a “laundry list” of wants…but communion.

I may not know what it’s all about..it may still confuse and seem beyond my grasp…but I know I miss it when I refrain.

I MISS HIM!

His touch on my heart…guiding me in offering. Holding me close and understanding what I cannot find the words to say.

what about you?

Firemen and lines

We sat in chairs waiting for our number to be called, and he sat down beside me.

It happens often, I must have a likable face because they always speak.

He spoke of his life as a volunteer fireman, and I wondered how he still was one, looking near 80 years young.

“my father was and his father before him.”

I don’t know much about firemen other than that they do what their title says, so I listened and nodded. Saying “oh fun.” or “that’s interesting”

I found myself drawn to his hands…smoothed with age and work.

“I don’t hold the hose anymore, I do the dispatching and work on the engines. I climb all around and fix what needs fixing.”

We spoke of his upcoming vacation to the mountains and then watched the rain outside the window.

He never asked me a thing, just shared a bit of his story.

Looking in my eyes and needing me to hear.

I often wonder what it is about the old that makes them share so freely. I love it and am drawn to their stories.

I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again, his words today will not remain long, nor will his gentle smile, smooth hands, or the hearing aide he wore.

But I’m glad I got to listen to his words today. We all have a story. Something to share and something we want heard. I looked at him today and wondered who he was as a young man, what his life was like.

I pray for him now, that God would be with him. That if he doesn’t know THE SAVIOR that he will before his last day. I pray that he will know joy and will be safe.

maybe one day, when I am old and smoothed with age, some dear young mother will lend an ear to me.

loving you,

S

Deeper

 

I was planted in the desert.

sprouted and thirsty

The Master Gardener transplanted me to fertile soil and i grew.

Tender roots seeking water deep deep down , spreading out in easier soil.

it’s not more fertile because of it’s location

it’s  not more fertile because of  the fellow shrubbery

IT IS  more fertile because I was created to grow where He planted me.

To sprout in a desert and to root deep in the soil in this bed.

He has staked me to Himself now.

Not to a supposedly good product or even a nearby wall.

...to Himself!

He is the only one that never leaves…

that never changes…

that never gives up.

I may shoot my tendrils away, but He gently reaches for me, drawing me gently back into THE VINE.

I am content to be a branch.

Overjoyed to be so near Him.

“let me go deeper Master. I need more of You.”

I pray it…I want it…