Memory

   "Let all that I am praise the Lord." Psalm 104:35

  We all have memories that are seared on our consciousness; the kind that a fragrance will immediately bring to mind. It could be a song, a sound, a word that ignites the fires of memory and transports you through time to that exact moment. 

  Thank You, Lord for this gift even when the memories are painful.

  I keep being told that I mis-remember events so today this needs to get kicked to the curb because it is wrong on so many levels. It puts me in the place of second guessing and doubt that the life I have lived isn't what I think it is. Am I really insane? Yah...no...not one bit.

  My father had a hammer, an Estwing. While I needed to search out the manufacturer this morning, the rest is in my head.

  The hammer had been in service for a long time and had helped build many things. It had a leather bound handle which wrapped it in multi-colour stripes of cream and tan and burnt umber. In places, the leather had started to fray. The leather varnish was worn down to a dull matte finish where my dad's hand had held it. Touches of rust, dark chocolate against the steel head made the steel seem even shinier. Except where a multitude of scratches and dings etched the surface.

  I held it often. It's the one he would give me when I was given the task of straightening bent nails, a job a little girl could do without risking life or limb.

   Whenever there's a need to illustrate a hammer, this is the one that comes to mind. Remembering the hammer brings a ghostly, sweet fragrance of freshly cut wood into my nostrils. The memory smell is accented with the perfume of warm leather and my dad's aftershave.

  I draw many different things without needing to use a photo reference. Post card memories of countless mundane items are always readily available and can be accessed by my mind as needed. It's wonderful and amazing to be able to close my eyes for a brief moment and pull up a mental picture of anything from an apple to a zebra.

  It helps with writing, too, because these same postcards are an inspiration to paint pictures with words.

  If I can remember so much that seems of little importance, it's reassuring to believe I can remember the big events in the way they unfolded. 

  The Lord saw fit to enable me to remember life events in as great a detail as the hammer, if not even more intensely. Sometimes, this seemed more of a curse because there are things I wish I didn't remember. He has redeemed many of them because long ago I learned to sit in the discomfort and search for His presence. He has always revealed Himself to me.

  If I didn't remember events that happened, I wouldn't have found the healing His presence brought to some very deep wounds. I wouldn't have discovered that these dark events are able to bring me comfort now.

  Being told I mis-remember is the same as calling me a liar. 

  But why would someone say this? Why would I even want to make this stuff up?

  Is it maybe because they don't want to believe so it's easier to discredit the truth bearer?

  Lord, this has to be given over to you because You know their heart. I don't.

 

  I have no idea what causes them to point the finger at my "mis-remembering." And, even though it hurts deeply, my Lord will help with finding the grace to forgive them. I can also ask the Lord for help in being discrete about what is shared with someone who is unable or unwilling to believe what I have to say.

  He has put others in my life who believe me without question. People who resect my feelings without judgement. People who have helped me learn to trust this brain of mine because it is a marvelous, wonderful, amazing piece of equipment with one heck of a memory bank!

  

Investment

   "Well done!" the king exclaimed, "You are a good servant. You have been faithful with the little I entrusted to you, so you will be governor of ten cities as your reward." Luke 19:17

  The investment being mulled over isn't anything to do with money, it's investing in the gifts God has so generously blessed into my life. The story above winds up with the third servant who hid the money his master gave him. The king took what he had and gave it to someone else.

 

  "...and to those who do well, even more will be given." Luke 19:26

  I've never felt such a personal connection to this particular parable like the one that has smacked me upside the head this morning. 

  Like the lamp under a basket, we aren't supposed to keep our light to ourselves! I didn't understand before because I thought it was only about being a believer; about sharing our faith. However, true to to the nature of Scriptures, there is much to read between the lines.

  Over the last week or so, I've found myself declaring, thinking upon and silently whispering into my soul that, "I am a writer." It is beginning to sit comfortably on my shoulders as my belief in this gift becomes more real. 

  In high school English class, we had to write a sci-fi short story. The gist of it was an alien on earth writing a letter to home. Mine was about witnessing the destruction of ancient glass and concrete towers. The type that are iconic to a downtown core in many cities. They were being torn down to make room for more modern designs. I don't remember much else about the story except that my teacher read it to the class.

  I squirmed, so uncomfortable with being singled out. I squirmed because I hated the thought that others in the class would feel bad about their own stories.

  Hmmm...this idea has deep roots.

  Now, here's a thought...what if my story actually encouraged someone else to delve into creative writing? What if sharing it led the way for someone else to share theirs? What if it demonstrated the power of language, of words that can paint pictures or stir the heart?

  I will probably never know.

  This morning I've realized thinking these kinds of things is neither boastful nor proud because only God knows who or why our lives and our gifts will impact someone else.

  They are meant to be shared.

  Pride isn't even in the picture, not if sharing is an expression of gratitude!

  So I'll wrap up for today with a prayer:

  Thank You Lord, for the gifts of pen and brush. Thank You for this amazing brain! Thank You for Your patience and guidance. Thank You for helping me see past the lies, the deception and false truths. Thank You for all of it, the good, the bad, the sad, the glad. Most of all, thank You for setting me free. In Jesus' name, AMEN!

  

  

  

Boundary Study Part 6

   "No one lights a lamp and them puts it under a basket." Matthew 5:15

  Guess what? Boundaries are more than no trespassing signs. Lives are defined by the boundaries around them: physically, mentally, spiritually and emotionally. 

  I will never take up more space than what is defined by my skin. It's shrinking by the way, praise God! But even this has involved setting boundaries around what I will or will not eat to achieve weight loss. Therefore, boundaries help us succeed. Right now, the goal is to lose weight. I don't have a final number in mind. My body does. It will let me know when it's reached its healthiest point.

  Gina stresses it's more important to have a strong "why" for doing all this. My why waffles a bit. Maybe it's because there's some future tripping going on. Not to worry, determination is it's own boundary.

  I've decided to have another go at writing The Art of Prayer...who am I kidding, there's been a strong pull towards the keyboard to share what I have learned. Last time I ended up getting completely overwhelmed so it seemed prudent to do some reading around how to write a book.

  Talk about boundaries!

  The most important one is to begin describing myself as a writer. This isn't something I'd even considered before despite having written over 2000 blog posts. There have also been countless poems, stories, and prayers. Most of these have never been shared. Why? Because I'd never considered myself to be a writer. It is simply something that is done.

  Who we are is defined by boundaries. Do I choose to let that definition be influenced by what I think I am not? When who and what we are is celebrated by the One who created us?

  It will take some practice...I...am...a...writer. Oh, and an artist!

  Something wonderful just happened. I felt a weight lift off my soul. Thank you Lord for freedom.

  Back to book writing...It is necessary to create a writing zone that isn't the kitchen table. It's an actual desk tucked away in a corner of the laundry area. While sitting here is still fairly new, it is and will feel more like a sacred space the more it is used.

  Then there's boundaries around how much time is needed. The last time I tried writing the book, it was done in marathon sessions. It quickly got overwhelming. This is usually how everything is done but in order to go the distance, I need to pace myself. That's not to say there's no thinking about it outside of desk time...what a cool definition! The actual act of writing needs space to breathe. So it's being broken  down into one or two page sessions three or four times per week. It might be prudent to nail down the exact days involved. 

  It was suggested to set a deadline for finishing but I have no idea how big or long the book will be because I've never written one before. If it takes a couple of years to do this, that's okay. 

  Boundaries are also defined by commitment. "Let your yes be yes and your no be no." If there's enough self discipline to get my hiney to work on time, the foundation is already there to set aside the time needed to write. Especially since this is something I feel called to do.

  It's amazing how many boundaries already exist without me ever being aware that they are there! Somehow this makes it easier to make a conscious choice to expand them or even create new ones because I actually already know how to do it!

 

  

Boundary Study Part 5

   "The Lord looks down from heaven on the entire human race; He looks to see if anyone is truly wise, if anyone seeks God." Psalm 14:2

  I do have boundaries but they haven't been something I've thought about or planned or put in place. The boundaries are set by my behaviour and choices. They are enforced by my behaviour. 

  For example, hugging. For me, a hug is giving permission for someone to enter my personal space. It's important for me to get to know the person first before allowing such a thing to happen. I need to know if they are worthy of this expression of trust. This is especially true when it's a man I am meeting for the first or second time. This is totally understandable.

  More often than not, a handshake is my go to in order to avoid close contact with someone I don't know very well. In a way, an extended hand is like opening a door to let someone in. Or not. The door can always be closed as long as there is enough space; as long as someone doesn't try and force their way in.

  For people who have been violated, this is an important lesson. We all have the right to choose who we allow into our personal space, who we allow to touch us.

 I am most thankful my children are teaching their children they don't have to hug anyone they don't want to, even NanaSue. It's an important lesson in safety, in self-advocacy. It also teaches them no one has the right to violate their personal space if they don't want them to. Their body is their own and no one else's.

  

  The God I adore has never, ever forced Himself or His ways upon me. He has always patiently waited for an invitation. In the beginning, I invited Him to be the Lord of my life. As time progressed, I invited Him to help me explore the dark, deep secrets so I might find healing. No one else knows me better. 

  He has also invited me into His space. The quiet command of, "Come," is one I am hard pressed to ignore. I feel it when the urge to draw or write presses itself into my soul. At times, I go with great trepidation because I have no idea where He will take me.

  There's boundaries around this, too. The ones that define the sacred space of my kitchen table, the edges of a page or screen, the grace filled acceptance if I need to stop for the day.

  

  Smile...it's interesting that I am able to put such boundaries in place with God but struggle with people. But then again, maybe that's today's lesson on boundaries...if I am allowed to do this with Him, it is more than okay to do this in relationships with people.

  Lord, I am going to end today's post with a question. Why is this so hard?