Day 30 of Lent {and a conversation with a friend}

I hope you have women in your life who have a walk in the Spirit.

Have you ever had relationships in your life where your perspective was muddled? Where your thinking goes this way and that, and your view of yourself within the context of that muddled relationship just isn’t true to your design? There exist people in this world who, though not maliciously and not by conscious design, are subversive. They prefer you to be muddled. Because then they can attempt to insert their agenda onto your calling, and distract you from your highest work with their relational shenanigans. And those people will often want to draw near to a person with a clear calling. They want inside your inner circle, but if and when they get there, they act out when things don’t go their way.

Anyhoo.

In one hour flat, I had a conversation with a friend and she cut straight to the chase and dispensed with chit chat and also honored the living daylights out of me, and let me know in the clearest terms possible that she could sense that there had been women in my past who maybe started out in friendship and honor but allowed a spiritual enemy or other people to influence their perspective, and those relationships ended up being something I was meant to leave.

I knew that part already. That was not anything I have not already learned. BUT.

But not just leave. I was meant to learn a lesson.

I’m meant to have an ability to discern when these things are in play, and never make time for it again.

My Lord. (That’s no euphemism. I’m talking to Him, right now, right here!)

I marveled at the clarity that cut through some fog I’d been under concerning some very present issues (not in my church, hallelujah…these issues are completely, totally outside my church) and I hung up the phone with an uncomplicated, precise plan of action that came to me of its own accord. My friend didn’t script it, whatsoever.

That’s what relationships with women who have a walk in the Spirit should look like.

She’s a new friend, and without knowing a single detail about my past, told me explicitly that those women in my past who failed to honor the relationship have lost out on something of immense value. And she considers their loss to be her gain, and thinks herself to have inherited their blessing, and she’s thrilled to take it.

It was the sort of conversation that, even though I am completely healed of every bit of trauma from this past season, when we were done talking, I had to wash my face.

I’m telling you, God has been utterly faithful to bring women like this, young and old, out of nowhere. Out of the woodwork. At least six of them (interestingly, DOUBLE the number of my loss….wow….) Some of these fire-breathing women are local to me, some within my church who have just stepped up to speak life to me constantly, some of them in other parts of the USA, and a few in the nations of the world.

Lest you think everything in this conversation was all rainbows and butterflies and honoring of me, you need to know, I also got off the phone with a crystal clear idea of exactly where I needed to repent and change my mind.

And now, I have a phone call to make, myself.

Oh, I hope you have friends who are filled with the Holy Ghost!

Day 17 of Lent, and Evil Hormones and Five Leaf Clovers and The God Who Goes To Work As We Go To Sleep

On my better days, I know that when I align my actions with my inward consciousness of the fellowship of God, what I do (and especially the art I create) becomes a form of prayer.

Today might not have been one of those days.

It didn’t begin well. That’s usually how an off day starts. I blame The Evil Hormones, and this thing of spending all night throwing the covers off and on and off and on. I exaggerate not: I woke up this morning feeling like my arms had done a mild workout. But it was just the “wax on/wax off” motion of cover-tossing for hours at a time.

But enough about me, what do you think about my hair?

As much as I hate to admit it, today has been one of those days that I just get through. If I were to add up all the times I’ve spent in my life “getting through”, it might be half my life. And you know what? A good life coach would tell me that that is perfectly fine.

She wouldn’t tell me that the “getting through” part is fine - because I should be able to manage my thoughts better than merely “getting through” a day. No, she would tell me that half of my life being slightly unremarkable is okay! In fact, that is normal and to be expected. Life is 50/50, hard/good, boring/riveting - and don’t we all have to learn to manage our mind, will, and emotions in the 50% that is….meh.

Thank God that His day begins as mine ends. In Hebraic tradition, the day begins at sundown. So as I am washing and derma-planing my face (!!), He is setting about the task of restoring my soul as I slip into sleep. The Preacher and I pray each and every night that we would meet with the risen Christ in our dreams, in whatever form He chooses to reveal Himself.

May it be so.

Tomorrow, I wake up to brand new mercies, made fresh for me. All I did was sleep off the previous day.

The real trick of the poets, prophets and artists? The real trick is to learn how not to carry yesterday’s battles and yesterday’s stuff into tomorrow. Tomorrow, we begin fresh. We develop deliberate amnesia as an act of holy worship. Then, we work with eyes wide open, and without malice aforethought towards all the people in our lives who took The Road Less Than Smart the day before.

We get a fresh slate. And because we get one, we get to give one.

Tomorrow, may even your most complex tasks be done with a sense of spaciousness and joy. May you wake up and make your steel cut oatmeal for the sake of the blueberries and the generous glug of cream. May you lift hands and heart to heaven and clap and laugh together with the Living God (because He thinks you are funny!). And may He send you a sign and a wonder, and I hope He gives you a beautiful child to administer it, for the family.

Exhibit A:

Our beautiful grand-girl found a (…are you ready for this…?….)…

FIVE-LEAF-CLOVER.

There is no doubt in my mind that it was given as a kiss from heaven to my daughter Sarah, artist son-in-love Jonathan Howe, and their girls…and then, almost by default, the rest of us here in the cul-de-sac got to soak up the glory just a little bit, too.

Five leaf clovers. In our cul-de-sac!

Tomorrow is gonna be a five-leaf-clover-kind-of-day.