The Bench

The door flung wide open. A little boy ushered by his teacher walked into the school office. Floods of tears accompanied his uncontrollable sobs as his chest heaved to catch his breath.

His face red and wet from crying he took his seat on the edge of the bench. He was condemned to time-out. My heart broke as I watched his tears stream down his face.

There he sat his head sinking lower and lower as the minutes ticked by. His 5-year old shoulders hunched over in attempts to weep in private.

His offense?

He didn’t obey.

He wasn’t responsible.
He couldn’t focus.

My heart broke for him. I desperately wanted to go to him. Not to lecture, but instead validate life is hard, but there is grace. I sat from afar holding him with my eyes as he cried it all out…

All the frustrations,

the pressure,
the expectations,
the fears,
the disappointment,

…and the shame.

I knew just how he felt.

Really, it might as well been me. Sitting there on that bench with my shoulders hunched in crying it all out. Even today I too have been at fault for disobedience, irresponsibility and the inability to focus.

But must he— or I —cry alone?

Who will come alongside this boy in life to validate his heart and tell him of the great grace there is for him? Who will accept him even in his lack?

Who will accept me even in my lack?

Please…

If you see me on the bench crying and my head hung low in shame for the wrong I’ve done or presently doing—please…

Please don’t let me cry alone.

Don’t leave me there on the lonely bench to sink deeper into shame.

Come to me. Hold me. Wipe my tears with grace. And sing to me of the One who loves me in spite of what I do—or don’t do.

And friend, I will do the same for you.

On the journey with you,

lk

~What are you dealing with today that you need to just “cry” it out?

~Do you have someone safe who will accept you no matter what?
~How deeply connected are you to an authentic community?
Thank you for sharing your journey.

Relevant Worship

How He Love by Kim Walker-Smith (Jesus Culture)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JoC1ec-lYps

Reflective Scripture

2 Corinthians 12:9
“My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.”

Dead Leaves

Leaves brown and brittle crumble through the Blonde Boy’s fingers.

Tiny broken pieces float silently to their grave.

His hands reach for more leaves to crunch in his grasp.

There was no horror in watching the dead become dust.

The pale coloring and parched foliage gave evidence to the end of life.

Everyone knew it was time—

Time to die.

Time to return to the earth.
And begin again.

One lone leaf green and vibrant sits at my feet.

The Blonde Boy’s youthful eyes spot it.

“This one won’t crumble.” I tell him.

There it lay green—full of life surrounded by the brittle and broken.

Life rests among the dead.

It fell before it’s time—

The boy’s hand inch closer.

“It’s green,” I remind him.

Life still thrives in it—today. Even just for today.

In spite of my lesson on colors and chlorophyll he reaches out.

He needs to touch, experience, and know the truth with his own hands.

His small hand squeezes around life.

I wait for his hand to open for the green foliage to return to shape.

But it doesn’t.

Instead…it crushes to a thousand pieces and falls flat to the ground.

How could this be?

It wasn’t time.

It still had life in it…

There at my feet life and death lie together.

It wasn’t right.

How many others had the life squeezed from them too soon. Even in these last couple weeks?

A little’s boy’s mother
A friend’s boss
A young daughter
A friend’s favorite uncle
A co-worker’s aunt
A student’s teacher
A friend's father


We knew their time would come—but not now. Not today. Not this year.

Its just not right.

“Why?" spills out of my heart, interrupting the prayer of peace for the ones who mourn.

If it is true He holds all things in His hands…Does He also hold death?

Can we trust Him to care for the heartbroken husband as he cares for his young son— alone? Can we trust Him to comfort the ache of a mother as she buries her little girl? Can we trust Him even in death?

Can we trust Him when He says it is—

Time to die.
Time to return to the earth.
And begin again—with Me.

Can we trust Him to bring life to the dead?

My friends, I don’t always understand, but something—Someone urges me to trust…even in death.

God, stretch out Your grace across the many who mourn and say good-bye to loved ones.

This blog is dedicated in the memory of:

Elaine, a beautiful wife and mother of a 2-year old son,

Phil –who inspired my friend to live life to the fullest,

Little Emma whom I never met, but know if I did her 6-year old heart would have captured mine.

My friend’s favorite uncle-Joey,

Margaret, educator of many children,
Lydia's dear father,

And the beloved aunt of my husband’s boss.

Although I never met your loved ones—I felt your grief this week.
Praying comfort over you all. ~Laura

Songs to Comfort

You Wouldn’t Cry for Me Today by Mandisa
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bFOdA52sjFA

No More Tears by David Nevue
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ALoj9ob6Os

Reflective Scriptures

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die."  John 11:25 NIV
We look at this Son and see the God who cannot be seen. We look at this Son and see God's original purpose in everything created. For everything, absolutely everything, above and below, visible and invisible, rank after rank after rank of angels—everything got started in Him and finds its purpose in Him. Jesus was there before any of it came into existence and holds it all together right up to this moment.  Colossians 1:15-17 The Message

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life.”  John 14:6 NIV

Something Brand-New

A new year brings with it the hope of new beginnings.

God is about to do something brand-new.

I can feel it deep within me. I believe it for me—and I believe it for you.

Please know as you read the below text that I have declared this ancient holy breathed promise over you…my companions along the journey.

This is what God says,
the God who builds a road right through the ocean,
who carves a path through pounding waves,

The God who summons horses and chariots and armies—
they lie down and then  . . .  c a n 't   g e t   u p;
they're snuffed out like so many candles:

"Forget about what's happened;
don't keep going over old history.

Be alert, be present.

I'm about to do something brand-new.

It's bursting out!

Don't you see it?

There it is!

I'm making a road through the desert,
rivers in the badlands.

Wild animals will say 'Thank you!'
—the coyotes and the buzzards—

Because I provided . . .

water in the desert,
rivers through the sun-baked earth,
Drinking water for the people I chose,
the people I made especially for myself,
a people custom-made to praise me.   Isaiah 43:16-21 The Message

Trust Me, Beloved. I am about to do something brand-new.

Believing with you and for you,

lk

What are you believing for in this new year?

Here or somewhere…be real.

Share your journey.

Relevant Worship

Hope’s Anthem by Bethel Church

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=crPyH-68KZU

Our God by Chris Tomlin

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlA5IDnpGhc&feature=related

What Faith Can Do by Kutless

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7elxC8LXfzE

Reflective Scripture

Isaiah 43:16-21 The Message (posted above)

Writing the Mess

I am just an ordinary woman wanting to make a difference in the world—

Somebody’s world.

I choose to be real and vulnerable for someone—

Anyone—

to be impacted by the extreme and relentless love of God.

My journey is no different than yours.

It’s messy.

In a life marked with both wrestling and surrendering to Jesus,

I find purpose.

I write of God’s pursuit to fully capture my heart.

My journey is no different than yours.

It’s messy.

It’s real.

I am just an ordinary woman wanting to make a difference in the world—

Your world.

lk

Knee Deep in Manure

The blaze of the fire warmed the room. Rich green garland dressed the mantle as ornate stockings hung expectantly. In the corner stood a magnificent pine tree adorned with twinkle lights and shiny red ornaments.

These were the signs of Christmas.

Yet somehow this familiar scene brought restlessness to my soul. I dared to ask the unthinkable.

Is this really Christmas?

Is my soul satisfied from the aroma of pine swirling in the air, the flickering of lights, or the brightly wrapped packages under the tree? I wrestled to find Christmas in candy canes precariously hanging from branches and Santa Claus staring at me from the fireplace.

Is this Christmas?

Climbing into my car, my heart raced with desperate need to seek contentment for my soul. Where can I find Christmas? For miles I drove—my heart searching the sights around me. Passing streets adorned with wreaths, Santa’s ringing bells, and tree lots.

Is this Christmas?

My heart grew expectant as my search led me to a local farm. My soul anticipated discovery as I quietly walked the dirt path through stalls of animals.

And then I saw her.

I. Couldn’t. Stop. Staring.

All four legs of this dairy cow were standing in none other than wet, soggy manure—the stench intolerable. Devouring every last bit of hay from the dirty steel trough, she paused to lift her contented face towards me. Her gaze told me she knew what I was seeking.

And it was in those moments I not only found myself—I found Christmas.

I also stand in the muck and mire of my brokenness.

Yet if I lean in, like she does, I can hear the Christ Child call to me. The God who rose from His throne, left heaven, and stepped into our world—naked and vulnerable. It is this God I hear wooing me to draw near and feast on His goodness and grace from His humble trough-like crib.

And when I do—I find what I was looking for.

This, my friend, is Christmas. 

lk

Will you lean into the Christ Child today?

Here or somewhere...be real. Share your journey.

Sounds for the Soul

The Gift by David Nevue

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4IAgw-yQCtE

Scriptures

He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. Psalm 40:2 NIV 1984

The angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. ¹¹ Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. ¹² This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

Luke 2:10-12

Hopeful Again

This week’s post is straight from my practice journal. This time my oldest son would accompany me. The timer set for 15 minutes and we began our separate assignments. He was to write sixteen spelling words into sentences for homework and I was to craft those same spelling words into a blog. Writing without lifting my pen these third grade words took on a life of their own. When the buzzer sounded I only added the last line and have left it as is--unpolished. By the way, my son was done with his sentences in only five minutes. J (spelling words are bolded) The unexpected surprise was not only was this fiction—but I think I know that little girl…

Hopeful Again

How do I begin?

How does one retell a story of an unhappy girl who found life through the friendly Farmer?

Her life was desolate, desperate, and despairing. But what He said…caused her to feel hopeful.

Hope was a foreign thought and feeling. She, the scrawny girl with the scraggly pig tails. The one always shamed and treated unfair by the cross Mrs. Rally and deemed unimportant to most of the townspeople. Unlike the others, this same girl was accepted by the Farmer.

She remembers that day vividly.

The sky darkened by heavy clouds pouring out buckets of rain to the town. The dirt roads were wet, and soon her boots, the ones worn through at the toe, were splattered with mud. Even the hem of her dress was covered with mud.

The rain and mud would not stop her. She promised the town seamstress to deliver a package. Mrs. Rally said if she was a good helper she would give her one quarter—a shiny one. One whole quarter would give her milk and oats for a week. She must be careful as to not slip in the mud and drop the package. She walked slowly. The rain pounded down on her. Clothes soaked through. She was almost at her destination—the Farmer’s house. Just a few steps from His porch lightening flashed and peals of thunder shook the sky.

It frightened the poor girl and she jumped at the noise. Sadly, she lost her footing and landed in a pot-hole—filled with mud.

Unhurt, she stood up. Tears mixed in with the raindrops as she reached to pick up the package from the mud. Silently she wept. The package wet, soggy—completely ruined. She stood there for what seemed like hours as the rain pelted her skin.

“How will I ever remake this package and make it new again for the Farmer?”

She thought of the shiny quarter. The milk. The oats. She wouldn’t have any of it. Only be shamed once again by Mrs. Rally.

The porch light suddenly lit up the porch and the door creaked open.

She looked down. Pretending to be invisible. Pretending it was just a dream.

The Farmer spoke. “What have we here, Little One?”

His voice was kind. He gently took the package from her grip.

She dared to look up.

And when she did…

She saw Him looking at her...

with kind eyes and a smile.

And she knew.

Everything was going to be okay.

I need to know everything is going to be okay…how about you?

Lord, let us see Your eyes and hear Your gentle voice and know…You are near to pick up the mess and make everything new again. 

On the journey with you...  lk

Relevant Worship

Embrace (It’s All Gonna Be Okay) by Jake Hamilton

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VphBebphKLY

Reflective Scripture

The LORD watches over all who love him. Psalm 145:20

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
Psalm 34:18

Even This?

I ran my finger over the inscription of the silver heart. Those words—I swear I could hear them mocking me—even laughing as my soul wrestled with its meaning.

G r a t i t u d e    i n   a l l    t h a t   i s

What is that supposed to mean?

On a better day it would have been a sweet sentiment—one quickly forgotten. But that day wasn’t good. I suppose a “good” Christian would accept the seemingly kind cliché and take it as a sign to praise the Lord through the valleys of life. But I don’t want to be a good Christian—just a real one.

I sneered at the words in disgust and abandoned the pendant to the sales clerk. But those words, already impressed on my soul, would never leave me.

Gratitude in ALL that IS?

As the days followed the He urged me to find the gift in each day—everyday. Tell me—how am I to find the gift in dark moments and seasons of life?

How does anyone?

I wrestle for the gift as the First Boy defiantly ignores my direction. He says nothing, but his eyes tell me ‘no, never, and I will always hate you.’

Gratitude in ALL that IS?

Even this?

The Blonde Boy hurls a pinecone at me. He is angry for my thoughtlessness of putting both open and closed pinecones into one single bag. Seriously.

Gratitude in ALL that IS?

Even this?

Even when…

            a car slams into mine?

When my child is sick?

When there is a water leak?

When my son gets picked on at school?

When the ledger shows more red than black?

When a friend rejects me?

When there is no hot water for days?

When business is molasses slow?

When the child can’t keep any food down?

When I boil pots of water to wash the dishes

and wash soiled sheets in cold?

When ants greet me in the food pantry

and when they surprise me in the loft?

When my boys won’t get out of bed in the morning,

and when they won’t get into bed at night?

When the plumber gives the bill?

When my mother-in-law’s health is threatened,

and I hear my husband holding back the tears?

When the car bumper is cracked?

When my neck and back begin to ache?

When no one takes the trash out?

When the bank account is drained?

When shame wants to reside within me?

When expectations hound me?

When the smallest one runs away from me—

                        down the street

                                    and around the corner?

Even in this?

Gratitude in ALL that IS?

God I don’t like what IS right now. Just saying.

Thank you for the grace to be real and not have it all figured out.

On the journey with you… lk

How do you embrace gratitude in all that is in your life? Here or somewhere…be real. Share your journey.