Pieces of Sand

I love the time that I spend at the beach.
I especially enjoy walking barefoot and allowing the tiny pieces of rock (sand) to buff the rough edges of my feet. They work in tandem to accomplish a smoothing of my rough edges. It was not their designed purpose to do that caring act for me, but I was placed in their path and because of who they are they ‘rubbed off’ on me. Their breaking down into small pieces of rock from originally being large pieces of rock and possibly ledge cliffs and before that great mountains did not really matter to my feet at the point that we met. But their brokenness blessed me as the water also did not cease its function and purpose to go in and out with the tide and pull of the moon’s gravity effecting the continued act of the sand being broken, continually broken by the water and encountering other broken pieces of rock.
I find that my mind takes me to my friends and really all of us on earth. We all are ‘broken’ in some form. Oh some of us are extremely successful in the world’s eyes or even in the church’s eyes, but we still all have places that we wish we could magically ‘fix’ or memories that we wish we did not have. Most of the time theses broken places are tucked away and slowly fixed with time. At other times though they scream at us and say, “You need to stop pretending and deal with me now!” I loosely paraphrase our inner talk here (smile).
Then, there are those wonderfully confirming times when the gentle inner talk of our mind, meets what the Pastor preaches about on Sunday, which matched the latest book that we have been reading, which also just happens to match what our loved ones have been speaking into our lives – all at the same time. It is then that we need to really stop and listen, pause, slow down, take time, adjust our schedules and give some time to the creator of our souls and listen. For it is then that the little pieces of sand that brush up against us each time the tide flows in and out of our life.

These are the times that ‘doing good’ or being faithful not just doing all of the tasks of each day, but also the doing good part of maintaining loving relationships with those that care about our souls.

Galatians 6:9 NIV
Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up

Stacey Britton

Teddy & Ruth

I often joke about our dog, how she is totally spoiled and untrained, but actually she is one of the most loving pets I have ever owned. For someone that has owned many pets, this actually a high compliment, and not earned very easily. Case in point:
I recently returned from a weekend away in which there was a small teddy bear left in my room for a small fee. It just so happened that particular evening I really needed a teddy bear to cuddle and cry many tears upon. The following day, I did the same, the poor teddy, was a bit damp as I tucked him away in my luggage.
When I returned home I unpacked said Teddy, I placed him amongst my collection in front of the fire place and beside our TV. Eight or nine bears now were a part of the collection in that part of our home. I quickly forgot about that Teddy.
A few days later my husband came home and found the said bear held gently between our dog’s paws and she was carefully licking every place I had cried my tears. My husband did not know the significance of why the dog chose that particular bear over the several others she could have chosen from, so he was a bit unsure as to the significance since our dog had never chosen a bear to cuddle before.
A few days later my husband and I were discussing the new bear and he mentioned how he had found our dog tenderly cleaning every part of the small little bear.
I paused the conversation as I pondered why that bear might be different than all the other bears…then I knew why. She was washing away every tear that I had cried, I responded, “Oh, I know, I cried a bucket full of tears on that bear.”

A silent tear rolled down my face, as I remembered the scripture that talks about how at the end of all time our tears will be wiped away. I realized in a small way my dear dog had reminded me, that I was not alone in that room crying all those tears, that God had been there with me and…

There will come a time when there will be no more need for tears.
Revelation 21:4
‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

Stacey Britton

Strengths are Weaknesses?

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Have you ever heard the phrase, “Your strengths are also your weaknesses?” or “When you are given a gift you are responsible to use the gift and not hide it from others?” I have heard those two sayings my entire life.

The first statement encompasses knowing yourself and using balance in your life. The second statement also include self-knowledge but also acknowledges the fact that our creator is a gracious giving God and empowers us with gifts to tend, to grow, to train, to become – a challenge not to just sit by and coast through life but to keep our eyes and ears open for the next thing He wants to teach us.

Have you ever heard the statement that there are “seasons of life” it comes from Ecclesiastes which is a book in the Bible and was written by the wisest man on earth, King Solomon. People came from miles around to ask him for advice, he had it all, wealth, power and the smarts to go along with it. In this book though he came to the conclusion that nothing is new under the sun, that all through his life he had tried this and that and came to the end realizing that it is God that gives and takes away as He sees fit.

Jesus rested, Jesus came away to listen to God the Father and to give His disciples a break from all of the crowds. Then He was rejuvenated and walked on water one time, another time he cast out demons from a man living in a cemetery, another time he calmed a storm on the sea all after his power naps and talk time with his Father. He was and is the perfect shepherd, the perfect model of a balanced, holy life. A human life living ‘full on’ for God in a human body, yet he allowed himself to be brutalized and killed in the most painful way… He is the model for selfless living, for boundaries to those who would try to control him or keep him from accomplishing His mission. He modeled dependence and obedience to God the Father, listening and obeying yet being authentic when things got tough. His mission was accomplished in only three power packed years.

So then I ask myself, how do I live the Christ like life in my longer life span without burning out. Sabbaths day rest. Simple but to the point. Simple but everything in my sphere of influence shouts out my name “come and help me” silencing the tyranny of the urgent to say yes to the BEST choices in my life has been and continues to be my life time place of learning and growing. As each year passes I learn that God is truly my sufficiency and when I remain in Him amazing things happen in my life and in the lives of those that I dearly love.
Journal Entry March 29, 2015

Writing as Prayer and Worship

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Writing is like breathing for me, I must exhale the thoughts that ramble in my head and inhale the ideas, thoughts and vision the Lord sends my way via various sources. I must share what I write, if with no one else or nothing else than the ink and paper or computer doc. that I’m using now. The multitude of feelings, thoughts and expressions of what God is doing in my life must immerge or I would be undone.

I cannot really claim anything that I have done in my own strength has changed myself, crying out night after night, year after year, writing in a journal for decades, reading scripture to survive…all those things were a prelude to developing the listening ear that hears, writes and meets with God face to face. I see his people in my mind’s eye, He shares some of His thoughts with me and I write. Sometimes He says to me, “Stacey, just write,” and I obey. I’ve even gone to using the sticky note application on my SmartPhone when ideas and thoughts or pictures and visions come to my mind throughout the day.

As I’ve said before, writing has become as important to me as breathing; it is prayer, my way to communicate with my Father in Heaven. He speaks to me and I return the favor. It has become the conduit of love from me to God and from God to me. When I write all the things that I have not been able to form into speech, instead form into fluent thoughts that immerge as a shining beacon beckoning me homeward.

I write to talk to God, to expose my heart to Him sharing all my hurts, shame, fears, frustrations, and pain. All that is known or revealed to me is dumped through ink and paper back into His hands. All His love, joy, peace and patience are refilled like an ink pen is filled with ink by being dipped into the ink well. I am the ink the Lord is the pen and the ink well source. He replenishes me each day as I ask Him to cleanse and make me new. I pour out myself onto the pages the ink becoming words, phrases, sentences and paragraphs organizing my life into the patterns of a story with beginning, middle and end. The beginning has been written and the end I know, it is the middle with which I write to become.

Writing is like listening to a beautiful piece of intricately composed music, the melody enters then the harmony followed by the percussion and bass, rich sounds, full sounds, sheer pleasure. Writing has become like music for me, a form of worship for my Lord, the King and the lover of my soul. I write for Him, I write for us, I write to share parts of my being that the words I speak could never utter so eloquently nor so boldly.

In my solitude and separation during the past five months of a debilitation disease in which the only non-pain filled motion was that of typing on my computer, my God orchestrated sabbatical, I found a peace that I had not thought possible. I have found a steadfast love that enfolds and encompasses me as well as brings me face to face with who I am in God. I am His, fully loved, cherished and complete through Christ’s blood shed on the cross. As a child I was told that if I was the only person on the earth, Christ would have come to earth, suffered, died and risen again just for me. In my place of healing, right now, where I am, at this moment, I embrace that love, soak it up and cheer loudly – YEAH GOD!!!

I began writing long ago to record my thoughts about daily life, now I write to record daily life as I think about God and as God thinks about me.
August 28, 2012

I’m Ready, Are You?

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It occurred to me today that I have just been given the opportunity of a lifetime! A rare glimpse of possibilities that could make a great impact on others lives…

But alas I didn’t finish the post and I have no idea what I was thinking, so maybe it wasn’t such a lifetime opportunity after all?

But really, isn’t each day the opportunity of a lifetime? After all we only have the moment we are living right at this time? So in a way, each day is the “opportunity of a lifetime…” A sobering thought somehow. The last word I uttered could really be my last. The last conversation…could become the last memory someone has of me. The last day…an opportunity to leave a wonderful impact  on someone.

I’m glad I laugh a lot, smile a lot, and say nice things a lot – not always though. Sometimes I ask tough questions, give the ‘teacher look’ or just put my hand up and my head down to stop whatever action is happening at the moment. This train of thought is causing me to consider my days, to treasure those I care about and to not waste any ‘moment.’ Gently holding all yet ready to leave at a moment’s notice. I’m ready…are you?

I’m ready because Jesus is my rock, my source of living, my Savior and my Lord. Because He is the center of who I am and what I am about. Do you know Him? He knows you. He longs to be your Lord, find Him in the Bible. John 3:16 says that God loved  everyone, He loves you, so He sent Jesus, and those that believe in Jesus will have eternal life with Him. Believe that Jesus is the son of God, ask Him to show you who He is and He will!

I Hate Arguments!

20140322 gardenI HATE disagreements,

I DISLIKE arguments,

I DON’T like chaos, messes or bad words. Why I had three boys I will never know, maybe because I originally wanted four boys but just couldn’t make it through another idea of the birthing process again. I know all of this sounds cowardly but if you knew my whole life story you would be shaking your head and saying,

‘You go girl.’

So we have established that I like peace. Peace of mind, Peaceful words, Peaceful thoughts… Boys, my boys, are loving, kind at heart BUT if you cross them, get out-of-the-way.

Tonight the ‘discussion’ concerned a pair of slippers… oi!! My youngest after a 15 minute verbal battle with the middle son, stated it in such a wonderful way. “Well, you know mom, if I would have just agreed with him instead of being stubborn, we would not have had the argument for 15 minutes, but I just decided I wanted to disagree and ‘have it out.'” OI!!! I was mad. I was REALLY mad. I went to my room for a time out. 🙂

Now I realize this sounds like I am a push over, I am NOT. I like a great discussion just like the next person, debates, thoughtful rebuttals and so forth. But arguing just for the sake of carrying on a verbal battle…not for me.

Did I say how much I hate arguments?

What Defines You?

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Journal Entry – July 20, 2008

It’s not how you behave
when things go well,
but how you behave
when you face trials and disappointments,
that defines you.

 

It’s not how nicely you can treat people
when you face them
but what you say behind their back
when no one is listening
that defines you.

It is not what you think,
but what actually comes
out of your mouth
that defines you.

What Defines You?

That Dog!!!

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Dog-dogs-35247719-3706-2480 (2)“Hey… where did my boxers go?” then “RUTH!!” I hear this one-sided conversation at least three times a week at my house. Usually at least once from my husband and the other two times from my sons. I chuckle and laugh, Ruth, the dog, has gotten her revenge again!

Ruth is our Chesapeake Bay Retriever dog, which really isn’t from the retriever family at all. She is part big dog and little dog, she could be registered, but she’s not, she could be well-trained, but she is not…she’s just THAT DOG!! We love our dog! She loves us and shows us this frequently by howling us awake when she hears the neighbors open their doors. Sleeping between us instead of at the foot of the bed – to keep us warm of course.  She also loves to drink water from the wrong drinking bowl…ugh!

Ruth is the most loving animal I have ever had, and I’ve had many pets. I am an only child, so while growing up, animals held a great position in my heart. They were my friends, confidants, comforters, play mates and great running mates! I even had a rooster, yes, this little city gal raised a chicken that was all her own. I also herded cattle, I’ll save those tidbits for another story.

As I write this Ruth is barking at the fireworks associated with the ringing in of the new year, even though it is over an hour away AND I have given her something to help relax her. She never does what she is supposed to UNLESS it is to sit when I tell her sit (only if I have something to give her to eat!).

Ruth always greats each family … (had to take a break to give her the rest of her calming meds – yikes!) As I was writing, Ruth greets each family member with a tiny little lick on the hand or knee or foot, then she saunters on as if to say, “I’m here, watching over you, I love you and I’ll be sure to bark if there is a problem!”

When my husband comes home from work you would have thought that she had not seen him for days the way she prances around, barks, jumps, gets her bone, throws it into the air, does at least three laps and then sits at his feet or on his lap. It is absolutely hilarious! While in comparison when I come home she is happy, licks my hand and might run one lap. I think the difference is, my husband just eats it up, talks to her, revs her up, laughs and carries on like she is the best thing since melted button on toast.

I love my Ruth, the family loves Ruth but…every once in a while (a least once a day) you can hear one of us saying…”THAT DOG!!!”

 

 

A Blessing…

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images (7)He saw the words on the page and wondered if the word ‘blessing’ was an accurate description of him. Others described him as a blessing, a gift, a powerful speaker, a God given leader, but did he, could he, believe it himself? Did he believe it deep down, down where only God could see his heart?

God had given him much, he had given much in return, however, somehow it never seemed to be enough – in reality it never would nor could be enough. It was a gift, freely given; he needed to receive it freely with no additions, no but… Could he allow himself to stand beneath the cool springs of living water, every moment of every day? Could he let himself continually dwell in the mighty power and presence of the almighty God without feeling unworthy? It was true he was unworthy in his own power.

The sufficiency of Christ’s death on the Cross, the end to separation between man and God, could he practice the continual presence of God or more yet, deeply let it seep into every known part of him for continual cleansing? A time paradox, a soul conundrum, but nevertheless truth in its simplest form: receive the gift – continually…

He would never know the many hundreds of lives that God had changed because of his obedience to the call, on this side of heaven. Countless hundreds multiple times had chosen to speak with him after church, “Thank you Pastor…” “That sermon really hit the spot…” “God used you in my life, Pastor…” The shear honesty in the words was sometimes lost by the chatter in his brain, “Oh, but you don’t know how I messed up the third point.” “Oh, but you don’t know what a difficult time I had with the first five minutes of my delivery.” “Oh but, you …” constant chatter, missing the heart felt relationship meaning in the words. Also missing the Father’s “I love you son. I am proud of you son.”

Standing and allowing the blessing to touch his heart was another way to receive the love of his Father. He knew this, and strived for it, but somehow it seemed to elude him, much to his suffering and anguish. His Father would cry when he missed a blessing He sent his way. The Father knew he missed the humility gained by swallowing his expectations and actually hearing and receiving the many gifts offered to him each time he would ‘step into the anointing’ using his spiritual gifts.

Receiving love came in many packages, trust from others, responsibilities, spiritual gift sets, people, and loved ones. Allowing the living words of blessing to touch his heart was the message he kept missing… stumbling over his wall of discernment. Discernment was creating an automatic filter; his loving Father was asking him to lower his sword and shield long enough to fully receive the many blessings He placed in his life. To receive the Father’s love fully in all of its forms is another type of discernment.

A blessing, a message, however painful, the Father was sending to him. He fell to his knees, “OH GOD, he cried, test me and see if there is any wicked way in me, open my ears that I might hear your statements of love for me, open my eyes that I may see the ways that you show your love for me. Test me, oh God, let me rest in your arms as your beloved son, let me see and hear you Lord in new and deeper ways. Oh God, have mercy on me.”

He fell to the ground, his face to the floor and wept…

and God heard his cry.

(created story)

Not Good Enough!

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download (12) depressed manBy Stacey Britton |2012| Blog

NOT GOOD ENOUGH!

He stood in the doorway, leaning his elbow against the frame and cradling his head in his hand. It was never going to be enough. He could never spend enough time with his wife, never enough time with the kids as they grew from toddlers to adults. Never was enough, his heart screamed at him, never, never, never ‘good enough.’ There will always be another drain to unclog, a lawn to mow, a bike to ride, a sermon to preach, a prayer to pray, God, my work will never be enough. Oh, God how I need you.

The venom of resentment pooled in his mouth as he swallowed his words and took his anger again to the Lord. The old tapes of self-loathing, the ones he thought were ‘under the blood’ played in the center of his soul. You will never be good enough; you will never get it ‘right’. Unshed tears of frustration and hurt, already cleansed by Christ’s redeeming blood, announced their presence as the scars on his soul. Oh God, please hear me, I know you’ve taken these memories, these experiences, these unholy places of frustration, and yet here I am back at the foot of the cross bringing them before You again. The shadow of a past, the echo of a dream, both cast a separation glass between receiving his rightful birthright as a child of the King and wallowing in the depths with his history.

Claiming victory and walking in victory, two disciplines that were his friends throughout his Christian life. The sweetness of God’s presence walked with him each day, but there were those awful gut wrenching moments when sweat would pour from his face when he was brought to his knees in prayer. He began to realize that in those moments it wasn’t just for himself that he prayed, but his flock also struggled with the pain of the momentary life here on earth and the eternal promise of the reality of being an eternal being, not of this world. He felt the pain of the stark realization that he did not belong here on earth, his home was heaven and the pain in his soul caused him to pause his breathing as he prayed through.

All these thoughts and feelings flitted through his tired mind in an instant as he stood in the doorway, confronted with the mundane clogged sink in his new home. This was just a temporary dwelling, his home was with God, his true home was in the eternal and it was good enough. way more than just good enough, it was unimaginably good!