Beyond Borders

courage. faith. action.


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Beauty and the Mess.

On Fridays, Lisa-Jo Baker invites you to write for 5 minutes without stopping, without editing. 5 minutes on a word prompt. There is a whole bunch of ladies that write and link up and even have a twitter party the night before in anticipation of the event. Yeah, it get’s that exciting! You can find them on Twitter here #FMFParty….. For more information about 5 minute fridays click here.

 

This weeks prompt is Mess

 

GO.

 

Toys are lying across the floor. Like a scene from Toy Story when Andy walks in the room and all the toys freeze and drop so as not to be seen alive. That’s my living room. If you walk into the kitchen most likely there are dishes piled high waiting their turn to feel new again. And please! Do NOT even ask to see the bedroom. That is where the clothes hide. Who knows if they are clean or dirty, at this point in the week the baskets have been pulled through, dumped out and put back so many times there really is no telling. Might as well wash them all again.

To the outsider looking in with their untrained eyes all they see is the mess, but they are missing the beauty. Their eyes never see beyond the mess, because their hearts are closed tight. If only they would open those hearts just for a moment, they would see it, because that is where the magic happens.

It’s the giggles of a little girl twirling and wiggling to the music playing. Her blowing kisses and bowing for applause. Her running to you and giving hugs. They way she chews her food. The “cheese” she smiles as you take a picture. The bear she calls Rawr that she holds oh so tight. He is worn and loved, but you can see in his eyes he doesn’t mind.

 

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The little girl that might have never known what it felt like to be loved. One that might never have survived her first years of her life. All she knew from the moment she was conceived was anger and hatred. I imagine her little body wrapped up in that womb. A place that is supposed to be nurturing and loving that brought nothing but harm to her developing body. Drugs. Chemicals. Alcohol. Nicotine. Things that hold a lasting effect on her physical and emotional being. I imagine the things she must have heard from her womb. Yelling. Fighting. Violence.

Then once her little body entered the world, she didn’t feel the love and the warmth. The feeling of a mother that swaddles her close and tells her she is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. That she could never have known a love like this without her. Instead, she was passed from home to home, person to person. She was starved. Left to cry in playpens. She felt nothing less than abandonment.

Three years ago today, she came to our doorstep, and that day marked the day she became our little girl. Though the ensuing months would still include visits into this other life, we fought for this child. We prayed for this child. There were days I questioned what in the world was God thinking bringing us a little one. Our cups were already filled to the brim with autism and migraines, and chronic illnesses and there just wasn’t room for one more tiny drop. How could we love more, give more, be more. He opened our hearts, gave us bigger cups, and in His time, she was made ours. Forever.

I still question it sometimes, when my eyes focus on the mess, and I miss seeing Him, He reminds me with the soft voice of this little girl as she lies her head on her pillow with Rawr snuggled tight her eyes struggling to stay open, and she whispers it with a note of thankfulness in her voice as if she knows, “I go niat niat. I wuv you too mommy.”

And it’s all a mess. Our beautiful mess.

 

STOP.

 

 

 

To read more stories about Mess, check them out here.

 

 


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Friends, Circles, Fitting In.

On Fridays, Lisa-Jo Baker invites you to write for 5 minutes without stopping, without editing. 5 minutes on a word prompt. There is a whole bunch of ladies that write and link up and even have a twitter party the night before in anticipation of the event. Yeah, it get’s that exciting! You can find them on Twitter here #FMFParty….. For more information about 5 minute fridays click here.

 

This weeks prompt is Friend

 

GO.

I read yesterday of circles. Standing outside of them and feeling the lonely awkwardness because the ones in the circles never stepped back a bit to let the circle widen. Staring at the backs of heads, stiff shoulders like impenetrable fortresses. Fortresses for the elite, and all the writer had ever seen is the way she didn’t fit. How she grasped at conversations like crumbs falling from the table. And each attempt feeling like the beggar she knew herself to be.

Her words pierced straight through my heart and I felt the hollow emptiness. I wondered how she could read my mind, because that was my story written right there in her story. Because in my life there is no room in the circles for autism, and food allergies, and chronic illness, and little ones that well you just don’t know what to do with them. There just isn’t circles for that. Because it is just too messy.

And she is living my story, and suddenly I wasn’t alone anymore. Until I was…

Because in my real life, He hasn’t shown me those circles, the ones that step back and widen. Instead He brings me two special friends, in the oddest of circumstances and the saddest. They live in different states.  They encourage me. Breath life into me. And when I have nothing left, and the tears are falling and I don’t have words, they raise their voices for me. Pray over me. Bring God right into my room. My quiet place. He shines so bright. These women see the ugly and the messy. And they do it anyway.

So I wait on the Lord for those circles, and I cherish the holes He has filled with these two women who brave through ugly and messy and we love through backlit screens and keyboards.

STOP

 

And because I had just 5 minutes to write, I didn’t have time to mention my sister who has always been my one dearest and truest friend. Though our lives are heading in different paths right now, and I don’t see her as much. She is still my heart. Always. Then my two long time girlfriends who have we have kept in touch over the last 16 years, these two are always a text away to say please pray. And these two the same they have their paths and their circles, but we are always here for each other. They are all important to me and I love them so.

 

To read more stories about Friends, check them out here.

 

This weekend (in)RL is hosting their annual webcast, the conference that you don’t have to leave home for… the one for community. This year’s theme the power of story. I am joining in on my own, because I want to know what it looks like to share your story. God is calling me to do this, here in this space. You can join in too. It’s free. And if you wish to find community to share it with host a group, or join one of the 436 groups already meeting.

 

 


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The Tree.

Joining in with hundreds of others for Five Minute Friday over at LisaJoBaker.com. Here you write for Five minutes with one word as your prompt. No Editing. Just write and publish.  This is the first I have written here for over a year. Feels a little strange to visit, but at the same time feels like home. So here goes…

 

The tree. A gift in memory of my daddy. It’s roots buried in the dirt the day we celebrated his life here on earth, and the joy of his life now walking with Jesus. That little tree stood but 5 feet tall. It stood there firmly planted through the winds and frosts and freezing temperatures of that winter.

As spring approached the buds broke free and pink blossoms sprung forth. Vibrant. As the one pink cloud that appeared in the blinding white fog that day we drove to the hospital. The pink that appears in sunsets. Never so vibrant as the fall sunsets. Sunsets my favorite time of day. My heart stops each time I see it. Just for a moment. The memory of that morning. The pink. Then the smile comes. How great a gift, the promise of hope of things to come, brought to mind each day as the sun sets low.

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The tree. Sits in a pot as I sit looking out into our new backyard. As I watch the leaves slowly fall as the temperatures drop, I notice it. In the barren, the trees arms stretched high, reaching toward the sky. Straight toward heaven. Always worshipping. Always.

And God whispers, I’m here.
I right here.


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Thirty-one Days Walking through Darkness Day Five :: Welcome Home

20121005-084448.jpgWelcome home. The day of his last breath my daddy heard these words and ran quickly into the loving arms of Jesus. I believe this deep in my soul. I believe we have an almighty savior that loves with a fierce and jealous love. A love that could not bear the thought of being separated from us… the ones He created in His own image, the ones he sings over and delights in. He could not. Bear. It.

And because of this He took that nail. He hung on a tree. He died so that I… that you… may be set free. So that we may be forgiven the debt of sin. That we may live for all eternity with Him. Free of all the heartache of this fallen world. Free of sickness and pain. Free of tears. Free of death. Eternal. Forever. I. Believe. This.

My daddy believed this.

And in the midst of the chaos, of my breaking, the earth breaking, the shift of my world. I know. I inherently know. And even though it appears on the surface, this crisis of faith, there is a bond. A promise. One that will never be broken. Because God never. Never breaks His promise.

And with the promise of Him is going to prepare a place for me, for my daddy, for you… He also promises to never leave. This gives hope. And I know I am not permanently broken. I know that this breaking is to shape me, mold me, draw me nearer to Him. I just need to find my way.

God, are you there?
I’m here.
I am right here.

 

 

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; And through the rivers, they shall not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned, Nor shall the flame scorch you.

Isaiah 43:2

I am joining the mob over at Lisa Jo’s for Five Minute Friday… Want to join in just click the button below, then start writing for five minutes on the word welcome. Five minutes. No editing. No proof reading. Writing free. Do it. You will love it.

 

 

Five Minute Friday


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The Path Before Me

The path. It stretches before me, behind me. So familiar and unrecognizable all at once. This path is not the one I dreamed of, yet this path was chosen especially for me. It is long and rocky and sometimes downright scary.

There are days I long for a new path, I beg for one. I think to myself, Yes, I could easily just chase down a side trail. Right there in that thought, he waits for me. The enemy. He taunts. He lies. He fills my thoughts. His voice echoes loud in my head…God has abandoned you.

But if I lean in and listen close I hear the whisper. The breath of God saying I will never leave you or forsake you. Take heart, I have overcome this world, and I will set your path straight. Just remain in Me. This path I have chosen for you, it seems long and rocky and scary, but I chose it especially for you. I have given you all you need to travel it. And this path? It is the only path that leads home.

So I press on to the upward goal…

 

This post is linked up to the gypsymamas Five Minute Friday. Here is how it goes…

When last did you write for fun?

Not to impress anyone, not for blog hits or comments or Pinterest pins?

When last did you just write?

On Fridays over here a group of people who love to go all out buck wild for the fun of the written word gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking

2. Link back here and invite others to join in.

3. Please visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments.


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The Real Me

Real. I am not sure I even know that what that means anymore. I have so many versions of me. The mom to my aspy daughter… me. Wife to my husband… me. Mom to the little one that was a gift… me. They all are different in subtle ways. Now the me that looks back in the mirror, I do not even recognize her. Her body is changed from illness, face has grown lines with age and worry and life.

The one real that I can count on is the One who made me. He assures me that I am real. And each of those me’s that I see? They are all the same, just different parts of the real me.

 

This post is linked up to the gypsymamas Five Minute Friday. Here is how it goes…

When last did you write for fun?

Not to impress anyone, not for blog hits or comments or Pinterest pins?

When last did you just write?

On Fridays over here a group of people who love to go all out buck wild for the fun of the written word gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking

2. Link back here and invite others to join in.

3. Please visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments.