by | January 27, 2012

Five Minute Friday: Tender

Happy New Year!

I know I’m a tad late, but life around my house has been anything but quiet. The combination of a cold/flu epidemic and the Seattle Snowpocalypse has left me feeling somewhat flat and completely exhausted.

Therefore, a Five Minute Friday with the GypsyMama is exactly what the doctor ordered! Five minutes of uninterrupted writing and no post-editing! Perfect!

Today’s theme is: Tender.

I’m slightly rusty, but some words were able to spill out of my brain…

GO

There’s this space, between initial injury and total healing, where it still feels tender. That time where to look at the wound you’d see wholeness, but inside it’s not right.

Where caution is still required. To bump or touch it would cause pain; pain that frequently is unexpected. Because it’s not visible to the eye, there’s no constant reminder of hurt, you forget to be careful.

No longer are you cradling it, keeping it safe from the accidents of others. Rather you go about your normal life until the twinge of pain reminds you that all is not yet right.

Moments like this, soul moments like this, require us to turn again to Jesus. To ask ourselves how can this be healed more fully?

Sometimes there are infections to remove, people to address, hurts to forgive again. Usually, it just requires time and the soothing balm of the Holy Spirit.

In those days, hours even, where it can seem like you’ll never again be able to walk free or live with abandon…that’s when He comforts us and reminds us that all has been made new.

Just sometimes new can feel tender.

STOP

Don’t forget to take a moment to stop by at the GypsyMama’s place to check out what others had to say on today’s theme!

And hopefully I’ll see you back here next week. My goal is to post once a week from now on.

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by | December 14, 2011

And the light was good

Today I made this…

Sitting at my kitchen table, staring at the flame burning inside a clementine rind, I began to think about emptiness.

Again.

Because this seems to be a common theme in my mind these days.

Originally that piece of fruit was appealing.

Ripe.

Juicy.

Satisfying.

Fulfilling it’s purpose: to be eaten.

I could have taken it, like I’ve done with so many of others, peeled off and discarded the rind, and been happy. I would not have walked away feeling like I’d missed out on something.

But…

This time I carefully removed what I’d once only viewed as trash. I turned my attentions to what was previously unimportant to me and came up with something beautiful. An experience that before revolved around taste became one of sight.

It caused me to think:

What do I view as discarded in my life that God wants to fill with light?

Am I missing out on something that would provide a new experience with Him because I’m satisfied with the norm?

How beautiful it is when we’re emptied out fully and filled again with all that is Him.

Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. {Genesis 1:2-3}

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by | December 12, 2011

Stained

Photo courtesy of Creative Commons

I always buy white grape juice or apple juice. The thought behind my purchase is that when (not if) one of my four children spills the juice on the carpet — even though we don’t allow them to take juice out of the kitchen — it will not stain because it’s a clear liquid.

Today I realized that I might be going about it all wrong.

As a sippy cup toting toddler meanders around the house leaving drips and spills, I may not be aware of them because they are clear. Unless I happen to see it occur, or step on a wet spot, that dribble of sugary beverage will remain in my carpet. Over a period of time, a dark spot will form from the dirt it collects as we walk over it. That sticky place in my living room becomes a magnet for dirt, crumbs and dust that would have otherwise been sucked up by the vacuum. 

Whether I serve a deeply red grape juice or a sparkling clear apple, I still end up on my knees working to remove the stain.

Maybe an immediately noticeable stain that is removed at once is better than one that hides below the surface and attracts the grime of life.

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by | December 7, 2011

When the Cupboard Seems Bare

I had no idea what to make for dinner. A run to the grocery store had been at the top of my to do list for at least two days. I had forgotten to pull meat out of the freezer and here it was four o’clock already.

In the next hour Josh would be home from work. I felt bad that once again dinner would not be hot and ready for him on the table. Not that he insists upon that, but it’s been cold here and I wanted that for him.

Peering into the too vacant pantry once again I prayed that my culinary imagination would come to my rescue.

We had tortilla chips…

and that was a can of black beans back in the corner…

Maybe if I combined some canned chicken with that barbecue sauce in the fridge…hmm…

Slowly a meal began to take shape. I’d never heard of barbecue nachos, but I was betting on them tasting good.

Pulling out a baking sheet, I combined all the ingredients, shoved them in the oven, and set the timer for ten minutes.

At the ding, I peeked in the oven and thought, “Well, they look good.” Hoping the kids would eat them, I called everyone to the table.

They were delicious!

Some of my favorite meals have come from the desperation found in pantry fatigue. Those concoctions that find the way to your table solely because you had nothing else to cook.

As I stacked the empty plates in the sink I felt God whisper to me:

“Sometimes the bare times preceded the best feasts.”

Those moments in life where you feel like you have nothing left within you to use.

Empty.

No where left to turn.

Depleted.

In that moment, the overlooked components can come together and create something new and unforeseen.

Sometimes we need a bare cupboard to find our best.

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