Wave After Wave

Photo credit: onebigphoto.com

Dreams of myself on a beach when the evening waves come in is happening nightly.

Seems so peaceful and beautiful.

One wave hits. Then another.  Then another.  Each time getting more forceful.  The sun is setting and darkness is taking over the light dancing on the ocean. 

The force of the waves are strong.  So strong.  Each wave is causing me to stumble.  Each little stumble makes me mind race.  My heart gets a little nervous.  Each wave brings a little uncertainty.  Each wave brings a touch of fear that I am going to get knocked down.

I know how to swim but am I strong enough?  I know how to get back up but will I be able to this time?  How far would that current take me out?  

The waves are no longer refreshing.  They are higher with each hit.  No longer peaceful.

Panic starts to ruin this dream.

But I am frozen.  I don’t move.  I just stand.  I don’t wake up.  I am not sure I want to wake up.  

Be still and know I am God. Psalm 46:10 sings from somewhere in my heart. It gives me courage to not run away. My soul fights to stay a sleep.  It knows something I don’t.  

Each wave is starting to feel like a test.  Each wave is testing my strength.  Testing my trust.  Testing my faith. Each wave starts representing my life.  Joy upon joy.   Sorrow upon sorrow.  Grace up one grace. Hurt upon hurt.   Forgiveness upon forgiveness.  Test upon test.

Happiness upon happiness wave is nowhere to be seen. The tears start to flow.  Even in a dream they are hot and very real.

He is my peace. Ephesians 2:14

Her sins which are many are all forgiven. Luke 7:47

God is with her and she will not fail. Psalm 46:5

The Lord is my bravery and strength.  He will walk me through hard times.  Habakkuk 3:19

These verses are sweetly being declared over my heart, my mind….my body.    My mind screams and my heart aches.  I want to fall to my knees but my knees refuse to bend.  The verses keep coming.  I keep hearing the singing.  My soul keeps me standing.  Drinking in the water from the verses. 

Overwhelming victory is ours through Christ who loved us.  Romans 8:37

With God we will gain the victory, and He will trample down our enemies.  Psalm 60:12

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.  Joshua 1:9

My heart starts to cry out.  But God, look at this, look at that, what about that, did you hear that?  The brain chimes in with stupid who, what, when, and where.  The pain. The memories. The evil that is being done and things being said.  The lies.  The hate.  The shame.  How can you keep allowing this to continue.  Who is fighting for me? Who will fight for me? My soul is full.  My soul remains confident.

Your God is the one who goes with you to fight for you against your enemies to give you victory. ‭‭Deuteronomy‬ ‭20:4‬ ‭

But the Lord stood with me and strengthened me. 2 Tim. 4:17

He does not treat us as our sins deserve. Psalm  103:10

Somewhere in all of this the waves stop.  The verses stop.  The singing over me quiets.  The tears keep coming.  I drop on my knees, exhausted, weary, humbled, and wanting to forget.  

When a simple whisper in my ear keeps me from going there.

Trust in the Lord. He will provide new strength. Isaiah 40:31

This time my soul was screaming it.

 The waves start coming again.  I stand.  Confident.  Stronger.  Believing in the possible.  

Faith even as small as a mustard seed taking over.  This feeling brings a smile. I’ll let my soul lead when I wake up.



The Finish Line is Just Another Start Line

It has taken me years to really understand that the end of something is just the beginning of another something.

For years I hated the end or the finish of something. The end meant a new unknown. I did not like the unknown.

Some stuff finished when it felt like it was not time for it to be finished yet.

I didn’t like when a movie ended; I wanted to know more of what happened.

I didn’t like when a book ended; I needed more from the story line and characters.

I didn’t like when a job ended, or a class ended or when a relationship ended. I didn’t like the end of a good night, or party, or first dance. The end of something good always brought a great sadness.

I use to run cross country and that was the only time the finish line was a welcomed site. That finish line felt like victory. I think some where in my mind I had decided I wanted to always feel that when things finished.

However we all know not all things that end, finish with the feeling of victory.

The end never felt good. The end was words that didn’t bring closure to me. It brought a what now feeling…..


I met Jesus.

He came into my life when so many things had ended. I had searched and searched and searched for that more to life than this thing. Never found it.

Instead He found me. He showed me He was the more than life I had been searching for.

He was the victory I needed.

He showed me He was always the beginning. He was always the end. I would finish something and would never feel lost again.

He changed my heart. Some times the end was a good thing. Finish strong. Don’t give up. I hear this daily.

Some times things have to end.

So now when something ends; I look for the new start line and never look back….I just keep looking at him…. And feel the victory.

The end feels like hope.

The end of something and the start of another. The finish line.

The end.


This is a little five minute writing. No editing, raw writing. The rules are simple: write for five minutes… Post it…link up and leave a sweet comment for the blogger before you! Check it out here

I belong


I have a thorn. A thing in my life that never really goes away. It doesn’t always show its ugly little head but when it does it is awful.

I wish I could say without a doubt that I belong. I wish I felt like I really did belong. I know this is a hard subject for me cause it is connected back to my root of rejection. Rejection keeps you from really feeling that “belonging” feeling.

Rejection sucks. That is all I care to write about that.

Rejection is my thorn. It keeps me from things. There I said it. I admit it. Really how can one feel like she belongs when she feels rejected?

However you know what I am learning is that we all have a weakness. Possibly lots, but at least one area that sorta keeps us grounded.

Paul says in 2 Corinthians 12:

7 So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited.
8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me.
9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
10 For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

So this is my thorn. My thorn that keeps me weak. A struggle that is getting easier and less and less BUT still a thorn. I still ask for healing daily. I just keep telling myself that one day I will believe that I belong! I will not doubt it!

However, maybe like Paul I am just suppose to find strength through God on this thorn; for life. Maybe?!? I am just suppose to rest in the strength of my savior and be thankful this thorn draws me closer to him. Daily needing him.


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Exhale- A Five Minute Friday Thought


The devil reminds me the car is fixed but that we owe $500. The devil reminds me as we go to sleep with no AC that we have no money to fix this. The devil reminds me of things that start to hurt. All I can do is….

Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.

This is not Lamaze. This is life. I gotta laugh when I can.

Where will the money come
from to fix that?

Fight the tears. Fight the feelings.

Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Oh! No! Lord, first the roof then the car; why now the AC?

Dig deep. Hear the truth.


Trust that He is for you and uses all things for good.


All I can do is keep trusting him. All I can do is inhale Him and exhale me.

All I can do is recall All the times before that He has provided and taken care of every detail.

All I can do is trust his word….do not be anxious! He takes care of the birds and YOU are more valuable than the birds! Do not be anxious about tomorrow. Matthew 6:25-34

Inhale. . . Exhale. . .

This is life. Not Lamaze.


Five Minute Friday: Lost



Just a little girl who needed her mother.

Someone to hold her and love on her when she needed it most.

The little girl was so lost with out her mother. Always wondering was it her? Was it something she had done?

The feeling of lost took a deep root.

Just a mother who needed her mother.

Someone to hold her and love on her when she needed it most.

The mother so lost. So very lost.

The mother not sure how to be a mother, because she too had once been a lost little girl; a little girl waiting for her mother. Wondering was she enough? Could anyone every love her?

The feeling of lost took control.

The little girl grew up fast.

The little girl one day was found. Feeling no longer lost and knows she was never lost to him.

Grateful He seeks the lost to save them.

Her heart still aches for the lost mother. The lost time between them. The lost smile and memories. She prays for all the lost mothers to be found.

Do you like to write? Do you like to write without editing? Have you ever noticed that when you just write raw that it seems to come out better than when you go through correct, filter and make it pretty for others?

If this is something that makes your heart jump and you want to know more go to:
www.lisajobaker.com and start writing in a way that is just fun. It is easy. A one word prompt is given and you write for 5 minutes- every Friday. Link it up to her post and make sure to go check out a few other awesome bloggers out there too!

So now that you have read mine it is your turn to write yours. Or to go get lost in the ocean of other wonderful bloggers that link up on her site.

Happy Weekend!




I release you.

Sounds so ugly but really it is a beautiful thing.

In my mind and in my heart; I have released many things that needed to be free.

Like the clouds that finally break open, and release the sunlight that is burning to be free behind them.

Freeing my mind.

Release is an act of love.

Release is an act of trust.

Release expectations.

Release hurt.

Release anger.

Release your stuff.

Release allows more of Him.



I don’t know about you but sometimes this girl just needs to be free. Free from editing or correcting or censoring. Five minute Fridays gives me time to just do that. To write from my heart and sometimes my mind without filtering. Worrying. Fixing.

If you need a moment to write freely like that join www.lisajobaker.com.

Every Friday we are given a word. You then write for 5 minutes. No editing. No worrying. Just write. Then link it up onto her site and comment on another blogger. !!!Be encouraging!!!

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Happy Friday I hope to see you join this link up and I can’t wait to read you freed up writings.



Mine are weak but his are strong…

Why do I forget this many times a day?

I have only two hands. Yet, I try to carry the world.

He did not make me to carry the world…Oh how I try though…every day.

I have two hands yet many times I act like I have a dozen.

I drive a car, talk on the cell phone and try to open up a water bottle for the child in the back seat.

I know in these many moments he gently reminds me two hands daughter.

Just like my daddy did when teaching me to drive. Two hands on the wheels…10 and 2….

Only two hands.

Why do I feel like two is never enough.

My servants heart paired with the achiever in me seems to think these two hands can handle it all.

Most days when trying to juggle it all with these two hands and all has failed; I throw my hands straight up and scream “I give up! here God you do it.”

He quickly sweeps in and reminds my soul “oh how I love to see your hands up…empty… Free…no chains….”

In many of my “don’t have enough hand moments ” I can feel him grabbing my hands. Dancing with me. Reminding me of who I am.

His hands with deep scars, interlocked with mine, remind me that two hands were enough to be nailed to a cross for me.

His hands are strong. Mine are weak.

My two hands were made to worship a king.

My two hands will be raised high…. At 10 and 2…Empty and free.

two hands are enough daughter