"Let nothing disturb you. Nothing distress you. While all things fade away, God is unchanging." Prayer of St. Teresa

I'm trying to type words onto the screen.

But, there is only blank space staring back at me.

If you've ever experienced anxiety -- the kind that wraps around your heart with the cloak of stress -- you'd understand how it can tether you back.

It keeps you silent.

Keeps you in your home.

And on the hours or days you need to be with others, you may end up retreating from being seen. Or heard.

You are working hard. You are getting things done.

But, you might feel like I do, unsure if things can really be different.

Whether you can really be known.

This is soul wearying.

A Place For You

Because you may have been hurt, like I've been -- by words that wound you still -- that made you regret that you shared.

Words that made you feel even smaller than how you're already feeling.

Words that make you feel pressured to get over what you can't get over.

Words that make you feel more alone, standing on the outside of where you want to be: belonging, loved and understood.

It's then, at that moment, you and I chance upon a glimpse into our soul.

To the little girl inside us who is broken, feeling cast off and lonely.

It's hard for me to whisper to her, as I really long to --

I see you. And I won't put you to the side anymore.

Because Jesus is bringing you closer to me --

I'm learning to make a place for you in this world.

Jesus has a way of slipping in his love notes, to reach that little girl in me.

Just this morning, as I listened to some piano music streaming from Pandora, the words He shared with His disciples those last hours floated its way to me:

"Don't be troubled. You trust God, now trust in me.
There are many rooms in my Father's home,
and I am going to prepare a place for you.
...so that you will always be with me where I am."
John 14:1-2b

A place for me.

Just for me.

With me.

Always.

I've always read these words, as words for the future, when I'll be able to look into the eyes of Jesus and finally lean into the sigh of His arms embracing me.

But, this morning as I heard them, I felt the still, quiet whisper of Jesus speaking to the little girl in me.

There is a place here and now that Jesus has been preparing for the little girl in me.

That place is my heart, where Jesus has been doing deep, healing work -- to accept her as she is.

To let her know, there is a place in this world for her.

Because Jesus understands her.

Because Jesus loves her. As is.

Make Some Space

His words to her now, in this very moment is --

You will always be with me where I am.

You will always have a place with me.

In you.

So, even though we are all grown up and capable -- carrying the load of daily chores, caring for others, so they don't have to feel the strain we've had to endure -- will we dare to ask ourselves:

Can I make some space for that little girl in me?

To begin a journey to walk out into the world?

To share her voice.

And even if she should be rejected -- which you and I know she will -- we can remind her that Jesus loves her.

And that, even so, we can try to find a friend.

Maybe two.

Encourage her to believe -- there is a place for her in this world.

Comfort her when she cries and doesn't believe.

Be patient.

Show her kindness.

Don't give up her.

On that little girl in you.

And in me.

Love's Imprint

Faith after all, just can't possibly be journeyed alone. Even if everything tells us it can't be possible.

We can learn to offer each other the kindness of Jesus and moments of safety.

These small moments may be few, but they are enough.

Because love's imprint can never be erased.

And it speaks to us through the words we share here.

This place in our hearts Jesus has made.

Just for us.

"And this hope will not lead to disappointment.

For we know how dearly God loves us,

because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love."

Romans 5:5

~~~~~

How is God encouraging you to make room for the little girl in you?

How are you walking by faith out into the world?

Pull up a chair.Click to comment. Share your heart as it speaks to you here.

~~~~~

If you're on the journey of faith to walk out into the world, I'd love your company. Join me on my blog as I stumble and journey in community together. Let's keep speaking words of encouragement and friendship with each other in our faith stories -- as it's being made and lived. As is.

Join Bonnie on her blog at http://www.FaithBarista.com, on Facebook or Twitter.

Bonnie Gray is an inspiring Christian writer and blogger, offering encouragement to keep faith fresh in the daily grind. Her writing springs from the belief that the beauty of faith often takes place when life goes off script. Bonnie is founder of FaithBarista.com and featured writer for Hallmark subsidiary DaySpring's (in)Courage. Bonnie is currently working on her debut book, to be published by Revell Books in 2014. Bonnie is a native Californian living in the heart of Silicon Valley with her best friend Hubby, wrangling their two heaven-sent boys on the homestead.

** Don't miss! ** If you are new to Faith Barista, I'd like welcome you here.Click to subscribe by email and get each post in this series served up hot and fresh directly in your mailbox.

Photo credit: risaunface at Photobucket.com

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"You see, there are two very different types of hope in this world.  One is hoping for something, and the other is hoping in Someone." ~ Pete Wilson

I didn't see it coming. 

I went to bed like I always had, ate dinner with my chopsticks and brushed my teeth just fine.

The next morning, I got dressed and drove into work as usual.  Logged into my account and started checking my emails. 

I started typing.

Needles of pain shot through my wrists.  My fingers felt numb and tingly, like they'd fallen asleep.   Confused, I tried to mouse and click around.  My forearm started hurting even more. My fingers refused to hit another keystroke.

Two hours later, I found myself sitting in front of a doctor who specialized in treating work related injuries.

"You won't be going back to work for a while.  You have RSI (Repetitive Stress Injury).  Might be carpel tunnel syndrome.  We won't know yet, until you get some therapy."

How long will I be out? I asked, thinking a day or two.

When it all was said and done, combining full and partial disability, my road to recovery took nearly three years.

Getting Better Or Getting Worse?

When I first started physical therapy, I was very optimistic. 

I was determined to heal fast.  Take my meds, get my therapy, do my exercises and wear my wrist braces.

The problem was healing isn't a linear process.

I was progressively hurting more week after week.  My pain extended to my upper arms, my shoulders, neck and even my back. 

Was I just falling apart?

My physical therapist Tom educated me. You're actually getting better, even if it feels like you're getting worse.

Tom drew a swirl of concentric circles on his note pad. He said that healing is like peeling an onion.   He said that I had ignored the fatigue initially in my muscles so well, that it caused my body to compensate in other areas.

Pain, Tom explained, was a healthy indicator that my body was finally speaking to me.

My path to recovery was to swirl out first -- to understand exactly how far my injury went. 

Tom gently pointed out that as one muscle group got better, I would start feeling the pain in other areas that had been masked on top of the other.

I have found myself in the same condition for many Easters.

I wanted so badly to celebrate the joy of Easter Sunday resurrection, I ignored the layers of stress and unanswered questions from my everyday life.

The Saturday In-Between

Don't get me wrong, I've been filled with joy for Jesus on Easter Sunday, in praise and thankfulness for the sacrifice and love He poured out for me on Good Friday 2000 years ago. 

I am always brought to tears meditating on the suffering our Lord endured emotionally, physically and spiritually by taking up the cross.  But, I was often heart heavy waiting to taste the power of resurrection in some difficult circumstances.

It seemed whenever I thought of Easter, I thought only of Easter Sunday -- the celebration of resurrected life -- or Good Friday -- the death Christ suffered on the cross. 

I never thought as pastor and author Pete Wilson points out in Plan B, of the Saturday In-Between:

"Saturday... It seems like a day when nothing is happening.

It's a day of questioning, doubting, wondering and definitely waiting...helplessness or hopelessness.

Is it possible that Saturday is actually a day of preparation?

... Saturday was the day God was engineering a resurrection."

My One Thing

This year, I'm celebrating Easter Sunday with a lot of my story resurrected from my "Saturday" life.  Not in a way where everything has worked out. A lot of the questions I've been asking for a very long time haven't been answered. 

In fact, some of the problems I've asked God to solve haven't gotten better. 

But, I have learned one thing through my time in this extended season of waiting.

That one thing is this:  Jesus' love continues to be one thing I can always say yes to.

In lieu of answers and resolution, I had to continually make a choice.  Do I let my pain and hurt shape my faith -- or do I take my faith and run into the arms of Jesus?

This has been my greatest joy:  Not that my life is perfect, but that I can choose love -- because Love chose me.

I've been able to find when I couldn't possibly wait any longer in dissonance and lack of closure -- the love of Jesus continues to heal me, carry me and attract me to Him.  I can continue choosing to love God, love others, and pour myself out -- even in weakness and imperfection.

All because Jesus loves me.

Because of the cross.

~~~~~

I had given up hope of ever getting better. Then I got up one day, not feeling any pain.

But, it took me many years to get to that one morning. 

I will always remember who got me through it. 

It wasn't hope in recovery. It was hope in Jesus.

I don't know how long our Saturdays will last, friend.

But one thing I do know, Jesus has walked that Saturday into eternity for us. 

His love will never leave us and His love will get us through to our Easter Sundays.

He knows all about the Saturday-in-between.  And He won't leave us all alone in that time of waiting.

He loves us all the way.

"The God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ,
after you have suffered a little while,
will himself restore you
and make you strong, firm and steadfast."
~ 1 Peter 5:10

~~~~~

How is Jesus speaking to you this Easter?

Pull up a chair.  Click to comment.    Give voice to your thoughts on the journey of faith with me today.

~~~~~

Join Bonnie on her blog at http://www.FaithBarista.com, on Facebook or Twitter.

Bonnie Gray is an inspiring Christian writer and blogger, offering encouragement to keep faith fresh in the daily grind. Her writing springs from the belief that the beauty of faith often takes place when life goes off script. Bonnie is the Founder of FaithBarista.com and featured writer for Hallmark subsidiary DaySpring's (in)Courage. Bonnie is currently working on her debut book, to be published by Revell Books. Bonnie is a native Californian living in the heart of Silicon Valley with her best friend Hubby, wrangling their two heaven-sent boys on the homestead.

** Don't miss! ** If you are new to Faith Barista, I'd like welcome you here.Click to subscribe by email and get each post in this series served up hot and fresh directly in your mailbox.

Photo Credit: Photobucket.

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I wanted to try and expand my world, even if just whisper-thin.

I had come to a place where my new normal looked nothing like it did before.

I was someone who was walking through post-traumatic stress.

But, what kind of life could I live now, while I'm in recovery?

I had been going to a mommy-and-me class with my three-year-old once a week since fall last year. And I had started the class immersed in the silent chaos of anxiety attacks that could happen any time during the day.

I kept to myself and hardly spoke to any of the mommies -- except for a "Hi" or casual "How are you?".

I was there to hang out with CJ, which was the only reason why I even signed up to be there in the first place.

This mommy-and-me class was the one time a week I could lavish undivided attention on my second born -- uninterrupted for a big chunk of time -- to do crafts, paint, play and sing songs together. Without the need to clean up the mess or hurt myself trying to think up creative crafty things to do.

Because you see, I'm not so crafty. At all.

But, this class makes up for this.  All the supplies are laid out for projects that are age-appropriate and parent-kid proofed. We simply walk in with our hair a mess, clothes crumpled and homey-looking. Every week offers a different theme, matched up with a round-robin of theme-inspired activities to enjoy with our child.

So, for the entirety of last year's classes, I did not interact much with the other mommies, simply because I'd be either holding myself together (barely) or afraid that at any moment, the social demands of engagement would just be too much.

But, as the new year was approaching, I felt moved to brainstorm a small list of small movements I can take in the new year.

These were so small, I even hesitate to write to you about them.

Small Movements

These movements seem so pitiful ordinary and so simple, it makes me feel embarrassed to even confess that I even put them on a mental list. These movements seem so insignificant, confiding in you about them seems to validate how very frail I've become.

But, I know this feeling is my broken self speaking.

This voice I'm having to speak in feels small and insignificant.

And that is exactly the reason why I must bring this part of me into the light. Here with you.

Because the easiest thing to do is to silence the parts of ourselves that feel timid and unsure.

But, I'm learning those are very places in our souls Jesus is longing to touch and bring back to life -- so we can find our place in this world.

I told you about one of those ideas that started to emerge into my thoughts, the way honey first drops thick and heavy into a cup of hot tea:  clearing the clutter from my drawers.

Even though from the outside, you'd never think time capsules of papers and momentos were stuck in transit, sitting in the dark of a closed space.

But, let me tell you first about another idea that began to float to the top, like faint sweetness that warms your mouth as you taste that first sip of honeyed tea, before you decide it needs a second stir with your teaspoon.

I thought to myself, I don't know how long God will hold me in this place of tension and dissonance.

Is there anything I can offer to Christ in this place of prison?

Smallest of Ideas

My thoughts drifted to the cold iron bars of a cell darkened by chains and the murky damp of isolation.

Paul the apostle.

He was so on fire for God, with so much passion to go beyond bounders.  What an orator he was, drawing crowds in the great cities of the Roman Empire's gilded age.

Yet, prison was where Jesus sent Him.

Out of all the places God could have sent Paul, that was where he was to remain.

He could not go where he wanted. Even the last days of his life were spent no further than his front door, for he was confined to house arrest.

And what did Paul do when he was imprisoned? Nothing, except write a handful of letters to a small number of people. They were fery short letters, if you think about it-- compared to classics written by men who were free to roam in the city squares, like Sophocles and Homer.

But, Paul wrote from where he was at -- when he could write -- if at all.

And so, this smallest of ideas floated to rest on my heart.

What small movements could I make -- if and when moments of the fog lifts -- even if the sum of them amounted to nothing at all?

Being Present

If there is anything I've learned in working through trauma -- and re-living it with Jesus -- it's this: Being present is everything.

I decided I would try to talk with someone in my mommy-and-me class. And I would listen more than speak.

Because I can't sustain too long a conversation.

I chose to trust that Jesus was present in me.

I chose to trust that by simply being present with someone, I was bringing Jesus to them.

I didn't need to do anything. I didn't even need to say much of anything (I can't. Which if you knew me in real life, pre-PTS, you'd know was killing me!)

I chose to believe the smallest movement I make to be present would be bringing Jesus in me to light.

Now, before you think I suddenly rose from the grave and was free from my ailments after this prayer, let me tell you quickly and right away.

No.

I was raccoon eyed, pale-lipped, joint-aching exhausted, dragging my what-not-to-wear self to that first class of the new year.

Only One

I did not feel inspired in the least bit as I stood there, dizzy from a night without much sleep. A mommy looking very tired stood near me.

So, I asked her, "Hi, how's it going?"  I didn't even remember her name (I had to look at her name tag).

She smiled widely, eyes coming to life, "Great!... How are you?"

"Oh, I'm hanging in there.  I'm very tired."  I smiled weakly.  I noticed she had a limp in her stance.

"I noticed you were limping a bit.  What happened?"

"Oh, it's nothing."  She shrugs her shoulders and smiles some more. "I just slipped down the stairs.  It's so stupid.   It's just bruised."

"Oh, that must have hurt..."  I grimaced.  "Does it bother you at night?"

"Actually... It kinda does..."  She confides.

"When you're not feeling well, it can get worse at night."  I offer.  "It's so distracting... Makes it hard to sleep."

"That is so true..." She whispers.  "It's terrible.  I haven't been sleeping..."

And so, for longer than I would have predicated, she tells me about her doctor visits and how it's more than a bruise.  How stressful it is to try and go to physical therapy, all the while, feeling pain every time she has to run up and down the stairs.

I listen and I nod because I can hardly breathe freely myself.

Then, we both laugh about how insane it is, to have the hardest job in the world taking care of our kids as moms, without time off for sick days.

This was the only one conversation I could sustain for that day, so I didn't think too much about it.

I thought, If this is all I'm able to do. One small conversation.  Dude.  My life has become a shadow of what it could be.

But, just as I think this, I hear another woman comment in a circle of moms chatting off to the side. "Oh, man. When I'm depressed, the most important thing for me to do is to stay away from people who are depressed.  No thank you."

"Totally.  I just want to surround myself with happy people," agreed another.

That's when I knew.  

The conversation I just had means more to the heart of Jesus than what I thought to be true.

Room For Small

The world does not have room for small. But, Jesus has made His home in you and me. You and I hold one of the greatest gifts we can offer to another person. We can be present --

-- as we are,

-- whenever we can,

-- however we are able to.

Because the smallest movements are not measured by impact, numbers or even duration by Jesus.

"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.: ~ Hebrews 11:1

In Jesus eyes, the smallest movements we make by faith -- believing Jesus is making them with us -- brings Him the deepest pleasure and holds immeasurable worth.

Jesus sees the weight of your faith by the expense you've expended to exercise it -- the hardness, the fear and even the doubt you put on the line, to carry it out.

Make that list of small movements, friends.

Write it down and don't let anyone tell you it's not worth anything.

Not even when that person is yourself.

Because Jesus is taking that list, reading it with great compassion and He's making it His.

With you.

"Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts.

But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a fraction of a penny.

Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had..." ~ Mark 12:41-44

  ~~~~~

What are some small movements God's put on your heart?

Pull up a chair. When we share, we are present with each other, a gift of faith and friendship in the moment.

Click to comment and read each other's thoughts here.

~~~~~

Join Bonnie on her blog at http://www.FaithBarista.com, on Facebook or Twitter.

Bonnie Gray is an inspiring Christian writer and blogger, offering encouragement to keep faith fresh in the daily grind. Her writing springs from the belief that the beauty of faith often takes place when life goes off script. Bonnie is the Founder of FaithBarista.com and featured writer for Hallmark subsidiary DaySpring's (in)Courage. Bonnie is currently working on her debut book, to be published by Revell Books. Bonnie is a native Californian living in the heart of Silicon Valley with her best friend Hubby, wrangling their two heaven-sent boys on the homestead.

** Don't miss! ** If you are new to Faith Barista, I'd like welcome you here.Click to subscribe by email and get each post in this series served up hot and fresh directly in your mailbox.

Photo Credit: LaurenElizabeth_014 via Photobucket.

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Today, I’d like to share a post to encourage those who have the gift of encouragement, who may be wondering if God can bring love back in your life, if you'd ever find the one.

Just like Ruth never expected she would find a Boaz while gathering leftover in the fields for Naomi, you are not forgotten. Your needs are not overlooked. The dream you dare to whisper in private — God hears.

Like Ruth, you are focusing on the gathering — the work that’s right in front of you. You get up and lie down, faithful to encourage those around you, being thankful for the spiritual provision you find everyday.

Among my purpose-filled days as a single, there were sometimes deep, long nights, when the ache in my heart tore down into my gut.

In those moments, I wondered if I would run into someone, the way Ruth stumbled onto Boaz’ fields…

Never Been Kissed

I don't know if dogs and cats dream of getting their first kisses, but one thing's for sure, humans are different.

I remember wanting my first kiss so badly, I thought I was going to die waiting. I did not want to get to college and be the only girl on campus whose only kiss was her bathroom mirror.

Luckily, despite my mother's best efforts and my propensity to like books and play in the orchestra (the cool kids were in band and track-and-field), I did get my first kiss before donning cap and gown.

The kiss was just as magical and dizzying as it appears in the movies.

But, it wasn't true love.

Not for him, anyways. It was a bummer.

The box for My First Kiss was checked off the same year as Dumped For The First Time.

Missing The Boat

Some people talk about not kissing anyone until they're engaged, to end up marrying the first person they kissed.  Real fairy-tale like.

Too bad, I always thought. Why didn't God have the first guy I fall in love with be my husband?

It was the first of many why-questions I'd start filing secretly away. Many years passed. I could never find the magic of that first kiss again.

After some time, I grew up and got smart. I stopped believing there was "The One".

If I missed the boat with "The One", then I'd rather just be by myself and God.

It's just you and me, God.

I liked it just fine.

There was enough to keep me kingdom forward and connected with people. Eight years fly by when you can serve with abandon, lots of friends to make and enjoy.

Then, one day, I met him.

He Was Different

Unlike other Christians guys who always stayed behind the lines of just being "friends", he was different.

He wrote me digital letters every day for a month. Then, he asked me out on a date. Not to grab a bite to eat. A date.

In line for a flick, we found out our #1 favorite food was pizza and we both loved coffee. We couldn't stop talking and we were laughing even though there were no jokes being told.

I decided to put out the "No Kissing" edict.

My last kiss was many annual moons ago. I didn't want to kiss any more frogs.

Three months. That's how long we'd have to date exclusively before we could kiss.

He was smart. He smiled and nodded.

I didn't make it past six weeks.

The kiss I received that day under a willow tree was the best kiss ever.

It felt like my first kiss.

It didn't bring me back to my kiss at seventeen.

It felt as if I had never been kissed.

... Until that moment with him.

Turn Back Time

If you've ever stopped believing that anything could be new again, God's perfect timing can turn everything back to the first time. The impossible happened that day we first kissed. God became a lot more powerful than I imagined.

~ He works in mysterious ways we can't explain.

~ He stirs and rearranges our hearts, when we're not looking. When we don't think anyone else is home, except us, He makes a space for love.

~ He is more capable than cupid, more magical than the most beautiful of fairy tales.

A Kiss To Your Soul

I'm old enough to understand that nothing lasts forever.

But, there are some things that happen only once, that remind us that there is eternity in our hearts.

The one I call my husband was him. He was brought into my life, even though I gave up looking for love.

God knows what you may have given up on.

The One who knows you can bring a kiss to your soul, like the one you've always longed for and forgotten about.

Mine came through a person, but remember, God is not limited by our ways.

Why didn't God have the first guy I fall in love with be my husband?

... So that I could believe in miracles again.

~~~~~

"And as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, So your God will rejoice over you."~ Isaiah 62:5

~~~~~

Where are your thoughts today on finding true love?

Do you need to believe in miracles again?

Pull up a chair. I'd love to hear your thoughts and I'm so glad you're here.

Click to comment and read each other's thoughts here.

~~~~~

Join Bonnie on her blog at http://www.FaithBarista.com, on Facebook or Twitter.

Bonnie Gray is an inspiring Christian writer and blogger, offering encouragement to keep faith fresh in the daily grind. Her writing springs from the belief that the beauty of faith often takes place when life goes off script. Bonnie is the Founder of FaithBarista.com and featured writer for Hallmark subsidiary DaySpring's (in)Courage. Bonnie is currently working on her debut book, to be published by Revell Books. Bonnie is a native Californian living in the heart of Silicon Valley with her best friend Hubby, wrangling their two heaven-sent boys on the homestead.

** Don't miss! ** If you are new to Faith Barista, I'd like welcome you here.Click to subscribe by email and get each post in this series served up hot and fresh directly in your mailbox.

Photo Credit:  Photobucket.com

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