Blog : Give Me Grace

Give Me Grace : Living My Lamentation

Posted on by lisha epperson

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In my trials, Lord, walk with me;
in my trials, Lord, walk with me;
when my heart is almost breaking,
Lord, I want Jesus to walk with me.

When I’m in trouble, Lord, walk with me;
when I’m in trouble, Lord, walk with me;
when my head is bowed in sorrow,
Lord, I want Jesus to walk with me. 

a Negro spiritual sung by Marion Williams

You only have to listen to a few bars to feel the depth of this lamentation. It’s the kind of music I hear in my heart when I’m , as the saints say – “going through”. I love the happy clappy Jesus songs and the hopeful medley of hosanna arrangements in my Pandora playlist is good God stuff – but when I’m tired…like I said, when I’m going through – God uses musical medicine like this to settle my soul .

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Grief crept into the garden last summer. A lonely and melancholy melody swept across the landscape of an ancient field. The promise and beauty of a forever bountiful crop…broken. Turn the soil of this land to find the remains of a lone bud. The bud that did not bloom.

I crawled into a fetal position last night. Curled my body tight in its first hug…the one You taught me to give myself. It’s a coping mechanism for sure but I need help, Lord I need help. This is how I feel, how I talk to God – the expression of my sorrow as love-lorn plea. I’m living my lamentation by being transparent and truthful. But I’m beginning to see this space as something more.

We should make more space for lamentation. Honor it as a holy and sacrificial contribution to the Christian experience. Expand the boundaries of grief to remember at its center is a wellspring of joy. Lord be with me as I’m drawn into the current of this life changing vortex.

I’m not without hope.

The steadfast love if the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning. Great is your faithfulness – Lamentations 3:22

My testimony is a violent resistance, a tumultuous wind blown from the trembling of a heart ripped wide. A subversive uprising of a dead thing. My testimony is Alive. I am a warrior, the daughter of this disruption living in the grace of a world tip turned over with love. I’ve grown strong. My lamentation won’t kill me. His steadfast love holds me.

My lamentation is a rebellious chorus, a mournful dirge wrapped in the ribbon of a righteous rainbow. Each tear-stained piece of sackcloth, a treasured addition to my garment of praise.

God would not allow the hurt without a plan for redemption. The story without glory. The testing without the sweet victory of a testimony. Grief isn’t pretty and waiting is hard. Lamenting means I share the truth of my painful reality with a God who loves me. My lamentation is authentic. And God is big enough to hold it. I trust Him enough to help me live through it. If I stay with this thing I’ll have a story.

What if we lived bravely our lamentation. In the darkness. Bless him. In the darkness…encourage others, in the darkness let our tears flow as a cleansing river of hope. Seasons of sorrow birth wisdom…if we pay attention.  Lamentation could be the long season of grace before the glory of redemption.

What if, instead of fear, we passionately expressed the truth of a living lamentation? What if we chose to surround ourselves with the promised victory of our present mourning. Looked at grief from a place of strength – knowing the grace of the moment is realizing we’re sitting in the middle of the story. It’s not over. There’s hope.

If the sobs and moans of sorrow are a step in the right direction, then lamentation is a good and right thing. I don’t want to hide it. Lamentation is true. Lamentation is the cry for fresh perspective  – the road to resolution.

Lord let me love you enough to speak my lamentation.

A prayer…because this is all I’ve got…and it isn’t weak or desperate. It’s born of strength and faith…more faith than I realize I have.

Lord, Help us live with strength and hope in the cracks of a broken world
Might we take courage…joy even because of the confidence we have in You.
Tests and trials are a sure thing but the greater victory is something we have to believe. Help us believe. Help us with grace, live our lamentation.
Lord we offer it as worship and express our sorrow with reverence. Strengthen our prayers with a reflective pause – a deep breath, a dream, stirring in the pit of a tenderly loved soul…it is well.

It is well with my soul.

Let your handmaiden find grace in your sight….#GiveMeGrace

♥ Continue reading “Give Me Grace : Living My Lamentation” →

She Loves : The Power of A Dangerous Woman

Posted on by lisha epperson

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When it’s over, I want to say: all my life

I was a bride married to amazement.

I was a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms. – Mary Oliver

 

I want the next line to read “Lord, let me have lived and loved dangerously.”
 

I’m learning to love fear. I’m learning to be courageous enough to embrace the twisted winding journey, the perilous pathway. I’m learning the steps of a risky and unpredictable dance and I’m learning to obey the divine call to love. I’m learning to live dangerously.

I’m making room for wanderlust. I’m finding space for the wild woman in my soul to stand on the precipice of a cliff to howl at a harvest moon. I’m diving into the pool of amazement that is life – even when it’s harsh and cold. Even when I’m not sure I’ll float. If I don’t float I’ll flower, become the sacred lotus…a water lily.

I want to love deep, far beyond anything I can think or imagine. I want to love fear enough to let it crow bar my heart wide open. I won’t fear the temporal, the profane or worldly.  In pursuit of the holy I’ll embrace its opposite in synergistic bliss. It’s the blessing of living wholly.

Let’s talk a little more about the power and love of a dangerous woman…

Join me in declaring the power birthed when women come together – one heart, one voice, living and loving fully in the power of one dangerous love, one dangerous God.  I’m grateful to add my thoughts to this spirit-filled conversation. Read the rest here. 

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connect with the movement at She Loves Magazine using the hashtag #SLMdangerouswomen

Here’s a snippet from The Declaration : I Am A Dangerous Woman by Idelette McVicker

I am a Dangerous Woman.
I am here and I’m awake.
I pay attention to the rumblings in my soul
I listen and watch for how the Spirit leads.
With each humble choice, I take a step closer to my Destiny.
With each strong Yes, I become more of myself.

Give Me Grace : When A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

Posted on by lisha epperson

 

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We met at our favorite diner on Broadway and 101st Street. After a morning of music with the littles and a math group meeting for the tween and teen…we met Big Daddy for burgers to celebrate LiChai’s 14th birthday. LiChai is an all American kind of kid. It was his decision mark the moment with a cheeseburger deluxe.

The day before, I’d stopped at the homeschool office to pick up metro cards. When our guidance counselor handed me an envelope…I knew. The SHSAT test scores were in. She played it straight with the perfect poker face. I’d have to open it to know.

The news was good and he got in. LiChai was accepted to his first choice high school – the Bronx High School of Science.  All I could think was how to keep this a secret until the next day – his birthday.

The Lovelies enjoy eating out. When I told my husband the good news we decided to wrap the story in a meal. Cue that burger LiChai loves and to the diner we went. Under the guise of asking his opinion about a few sketches we handed him the acceptance letter tucked in a stack of papers.

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Call it a serendipitous flow of the spirit, a peaceful connection to a sense of God anointed kismet – I don’t know. But I knew the moment as an etching on my heart – a longing that existed before I could name it. Strung to the forever of eternity, that moment led to others…and took me back…to the dream of family. I dreamed a dream of family and they sat before me like a feast, a banquet of love. I had all I wanted. And wanted for nothing more.

It sped by in a flash but I noticed it. Contentment. For a moment I knew peace and gratitude – the ease of serenity.  A healthy slice of nirvana satisfied. I lived as one with the perfect balance of what I wanted but didn’t have, what I had but didn’t want…even a wave of rest covered what may never be. I was content. This was my fair measure of grace.

Later we walked on Broadway, uptown and toward home. There was laughter. Easy and free. A picture would capture the love. And I needed one. Because raising a family isn’t easy and that balance I mentioned earlier is a tough thing to carry out. It isn’t easy to be content. I noticed the blessing and wanted to frame it. Hem the love I live in a story we’d tell over and over again. A picture would help me remember. This picture is a tribute to the God who grants me the pleasure of my portion, my offering and memorial to the gift of a great day,

It’s my modern-day Ebenezer.

How I remember…my family, the one I dreamed of.

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 Let your handmaiden find grace in your sight…#GiveMeGrace

♥ Continue reading “Give Me Grace : When A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words” →

Five Minutes for Faith : Where We Pray For The Unspeakable

Posted on by lisha epperson

 

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“I love the Lord because He hears my prayers and answers them. Because He bends down and listens, I will pray as long as I breathe!” Psalm 116:1, 2 (Living Bible)

Can we talk for a minute? 

You’re wearing that pain like a pair of old shoes. Worn low from love…they fit. But they aren’t comfortable. They pinch in odd places and won’t be back in style soon enough to warrant another year of space in an already full closet. Whether from habit or limited choices you’re in a rut. For some reason you keep reaching for the same pair. You think I don’t notice. 

But I do.

I’ve been thinking about you. Laid fresh on the doorstep of my heart, I can’t go another day without picking you up for a closer look. I want to turn the pages and look at the pictures, open the folds, maybe tuck you under my arm to take with me on my way out. This might take a while. 

I’ve always admired you. You’re a thoughtful mother, committed wife and your professional accomplishments are impressive. That you do it all for Christ is a testimony of His faithfulness. It all streams behind you like the most extravagant silk train. An array of jewels, crystals and beads…and pearls. It’s beautiful. But it’s heavy. You should take it off sometimes. 

Those things don’t redeem your worth or increase your value. And sometimes those very wonderful things are what keep you from Christ. Because in the end…you’re just a girl…who needs her God. Now, more than ever you realize those things…are adornments. To be clear, they’re all good things. But they don’t matter now…not when your soul’s in crisis. Not when you ran into the bathroom to keep your children from seeing you breakdown…again – not when you schedule time for panic attacks in the ladies room at work. 

It’s that thing, the unspeakable thing, the nameless one…the thing that breaks your heart. It’s your thorn, your secret shame. 

And you aren’t ready to talk about it so let’s do that other thing we do. 

Let’s pray. 

Let’s pray about “that” thing.

A little letter of encouragement shared with Deb Wolf and friends at Five Minutes for Faith. Read the rest here…