Blog : Give Me Grace - Page 93 of 101

Five Minute Friday : Song

Posted on May 17, 2013May 18, 2013 by lisha epperson

Song – Part 1

tumblr_mcxr6bm2sq1qcn8rvo1_400 — do you remember Marilyn McCoo of The Fifth Dimension? and her song “One Less Bell to Answer”?
I’ve loved her for a long time

Music has always been important to me. I can remember our Saturday morning family cleaning sessions with my mama playing records by The Fifth Dimension. I’d sing along with her, not understanding the lyrics but feeling the emotions of a desperate and lonely woman “One less bell to answer, one less egg to fry, though I try to forget, it just can’t be done, each time the doorbell rings – I still run”. Such a hauntingly beautiful song, sung by an absolutely gorgeous woman. Thinking about the lyrics now makes me want to rescue this clearly troubled woman. Lol. At the time though, I didn’t think about the words, at 7 or 8 years of age I just memorized them. I was enamored with Marilyn McCoo, a beautiful brown woman who was, to me, a more glamorous version of my mother. She was a singer and when I sang along – so was I.

My siblings and I worked hard to save money to buy records. The songs we chose were important. Our first real rap record “Rappers Delight” by the SugarHill Gang, Dancing Machine by the Jackson Five and Isn’t She Lovely by Stevie Wonder – I can still recite these songs word for word. Each defining a moment in our childhood. The songs set a tone for the day while working and I remember how listening inspired me to attempt writing my own songs. Even now, I play music when I want to get the family in a cleaning mode. Different song selections for a different time, but we all sing along.

My mothers’ younger brother visited us one summer. He brought with him, a song by Marvin Gaye. I don’t remember the title. He would play the song and dance around the house in the evenings, his arms wrapped in a pretend dancers embrace. Holding his imaginary partner close he’d rattle off a flurry of words – all about a girl named Bernice. He was eighteen and in love. This was his song.

So many songs come to mind as I think about this word. Songs have brought joy and some are reminders of darker times. I couldn’t hear those songs without crying. Other songs, I sing/scream at the top of my lungs – these songs are MINE.

Check out the fabulous Marilyn McCoo:

http://youtu.be/9ZcA3kiaQb0

Song – part 2

Music is powerful. Many of the pivotal moments of my life have a song attached to them – “I Love to Remember” by Unbroken Chain Church softened my heart to the Lord. Hearing the redemptive words, telling of a flashback of His goodness tugged my heart and I followed…opening and receiving. I said yes to Jesus because of His goodness exemplified in song.

The painful transition of leaving my first church was tempered when I walked into my new church hearing this song – http://youtu.be/ULwKXfTQXE4

This song reminded me that no matter what church I called home – He was there. And I was there- wherever there was – for one reason only… to grow in Him through worship.

Here I am to worship

Here I am to bow down

Here I am to say that…You’re my God

We had prolonged our leave for as long as possible but knew God was calling us elsewhere.

Change is hard in a church family. Particularly in a small church. We were family in every way – good and bad. After 16 years, how could we leave?

When we finally obeyed His voice and took that first step, everything fell into place. We decided to visit 2 churches. The first church turned out to be our new certain brook.

We were ministered to with a fresh timely word and at the end of service, shared our mutual feeling that the Lord spoke during one particular song – “Here I Am to Worship.” Songs are not mere words – music is ministry. Songs are alive and can heal and transform. Songs speak to the heart – our connection with Him played out in a melody that tells a unique story to each listener.

another Five Minute Friday post with Lisa Jo and friends at www.lisajobaker.com. Join us sometime.

p.s. still challenged with posting in 5 minutes…the prompts get me going and I am compelled to share. please extend a little grace to this long-winded newbie blogger. clocked this one in 30 minutes.

The Secret to Erase Mommy Guilt

Posted on May 14, 2013May 20, 2013 by lisha epperson

apology5 — I can pull it together when I have to but it isn’t easy – thankfully my Mama shared her secrets with me
sketch by Big Daddy

On the days when I just can’t get it right…I feel like “Poser Mom”. Between homeschooling, cooking, wifeing (not a word but you get the idea), and squeezing other interests I may have into the grind of my daily….well this mama is challenged. Mothering isn’t easy. It’s all about equilibrium and composure, finding balance – your way to – “do it” better. Like you, I strive for grace and aplomb as I teeter on the limb of this very fragile branch. The craziness keeps me constantly craving the only One who can help me. He often points me in the direction of my mother, who shared her “mommy secrets” with me.

I’ve got a little mama wisdom to share – so read on.

Chailah needs me, seemingly now more than ever. I feel her pain as a middle child and do my best to walk her through the inevitable frustration that comes with her position, but the mama guilt tells me No! Not enough lady. You’ll have to do better. Engage her more.

LiChai on the cusp of teen dependence/independence requires me as a security guard and first girlfriend. His need of ego boosting and straight up guardianship is demanding. I know he’s trying to fly solo but my spirit tells me he’s at an age that requires my full-time attention -” just a little longer in the nest, son”. I have to be present for this. No half stepping allowed.

At 10, Ila is everyday challenging my Queendom. Letting the little princess know her place is exhausting. I love the fire in her and admire her confidence because I’ve worked hard to instill it. I just don’t want to snuff it out while working to maintain proper balance with my little mini-me.

I read once, that 2 year olds expend , on an average day, the equivalent of energy of a professional football player during practice. If this is true – Ade’s terrific twoness demands my attention just to keep the tank fueled and too, the little boy body free from injury. We’ll say nothing for now about the amount of television he watches so that I can get a break from the non-stop, play by-play hustle we engage in. He needs me and there is a price to pay when he doesn’t get “Me”. His tantrums, a mommy barometer for when things aren’t quite right at home.

Clearly there’s a lot going on here and the idea that I can do and be all is ridiculous. It’s time to surrender – and it starts with two little words.

So I slow down when my tone gets a little too sharp, my irritation, resulting in way too much bass in my voice. I accept that I don’t have it all together. I call on my God and quiet my mind. Then, as my mother did with me, I’m led to apologize. I share this simple tip with you – apologize. My mother graced her children with the gentle words of an apology when she felt consumed by the madness of motherhood. Her words then, erased the wrong and strengthened our bond. I hear her, in the now of my mommyness/mess and remember to apologize.

“Mommy’s sorry” she would say and my world would shift. I grew up knowing and feeling loved even though she faced the difficulties of parenthood largely as a single mom. The simple and powerful truth of an apology sustained and repaired the chaotic moments. Moments where words and actions were beginning to hurt and not heal. An apology begins the healing and continues on with the real work of repentance and change. So let’s be clear, I’m not suggesting that you physically, verbally or emotionally abuse your children and brush it aside with an apology. I am saying that an apology will begin the work in you that leads to better, more mindful parenting. The apology leads us back to God – and ultimately releases us from the guilt we feel when evaluating our parenting. No condemnation. The apology leads to change because we’ve been freed from perfection. We can now truly be more…do more…because we’re doing it through Him.

I end the tough days with I’m sorry…and a promise to myself to try again tomorrow. Yes. Tomorrow. I am an amazing, though perfectly flawed mother and I will try again.

What about you? What are your secrets? Share something you learned from your Mama in the comment section below.

on Comfort…

Posted on May 11, 2013May 18, 2013 by lisha epperson

Her words sunk in me…dropping into my spirit in a terribly familiar way…this awful news turned my sunny day blue. She’d lost the baby. In the space of 12 weeks when everything seemed to be going right…something went wrong. And I felt it…I still feel it…I will always feel it. I have found comfort only in the arms of the One who loves me best. But it still stings…because I remember the hurt – of miscarriage.

I wanted to comfort her with all I have to offer. But all I had to give were words. And I already know there are no words. My words can’t replace, restore or change facts. My words mean nothing to a woman who at that moment is lost in a tangle of disbelief and despair.

This day was heavy and weighted with grief. I wanted to encourage, to lift and comfort. So I reached out to others online who were going through the same thing. In 140 characters I tweeted a sweet and thoughtful tidbit about hope without mentioning Him. And I received this as a reply. “Thank you for your prayers even though they won’t change anything…they can’t hurt.” My words are powerless without Him…anything I could think of to say in the natural would and could never do any good.

My words cannot comfort but I can intercede and ask for grace from the One who alone can heal this kind of brokenness…He is the comforter. His words give comfort and bind the wounds of the broken-hearted.

So I’ll offer my embrace to lean into, my ears to listen and my heart to feel and acknowledge this type of loss. I will offer prayer laced with words of encouragement taken directly from His word because my word, alone, will never be enough. I will pray that He use me to live out His word. His words have the power to restore, give life and ease suffering.

I know that even if she doesn’t feel it – she is being comforted by the Comforter. Knowing this gives me comfort. Prayer changes things – prayer changes us and this is comforting. And I’m still praying and ever after…the Comforter.

Five Minute Friday: Brave

Posted on May 3, 2013May 10, 2013 by lisha epperson

I wish I were brave. As a mother of young children, much of what I do feels incomplete. Unfinished. Just enough but not nearly enough to be great. I could always do more. Always a great idea and always an after thought. Always a day late, a dollar short. But brave moves instantaneously. Brave leaps. Brave raises its hand. And screams “me, pick me!” I, however, have grown comfortable in preparation and the safety found in the pre-selected and pre-determined. Brave feels so very far from – me.

I watch women who blog through their infertility and think – Wow! That’s brave. I know women who parent children solo…by chance and choice and think…now that’s brave. I watch parents live on after the death of a child and think…that level of bravery is untouchable. I tearfully pray never to be intimately connected to such courage. I want to be brave but fail to see anything I’ve done as such. What does it take to feel brave?

Anything I’ve done that comes close to bravery has been motivated largely by my own need. I see my humanness and selfishness peek through many of the decisions I’ve made. These shortcomings shoot gaping holes in platforms I may unknowingly allow others to build beneath me, lifting me up instead of Him.

Maybe bravery manifests in different ways, ways as unique as the relationships He holds with each of us. The song He sings to me… a melody He hums for you. Each relationship reflecting subtle changes in notes, pitch, and tone in pursuit of perfect harmony.

I am capable of stillness. I am capable of silence. I have a heart for service.
Perhaps brave for me is the offering of a whisper-soft, silent surrender. When asked to be still, I’ve been able to do so. Could that be a gift? I lived in the murky middle ground of maybe during my struggle with infertility – when what I wanted was a yes or no. I was graced with the ability to maintain stillness in spite of a desire for movement that was desperate. I wanted what I called progress. I was graced to be still when I hoped to be propelled fast forward into the future – anything to avoid my then painful present. Ready or not. I was graced with silence when I wanted to scream. But only because that is what He required of me. Could there be bravery in obedience?

So I won’t compare my courage to the bravery of others. What was asked of me, I alone could perform. He works in us individually and my stillness ministered to someone. Someone needed to witness the quiet strength of stillness while waiting…someone needed to witness His bravery manifested through my silence. Maybe, just maybe, I’m brave after all – my stillness then…ministering to others…now. My obedience, a testimony. My bravery did not speak, my bravery was heard.

Do you feel brave? How has God used your journey to minister bravery to others? To you?

another Five Minute Friday post link-up with Lisa Jo Baker at www.lisajobaker.com. Swing through for more thoughts on : BRAVE

p.s. late post today because of runny noses and coughs last night…2 down…pray.