Waiting

For Rain

I posted on IG this morning and then went for a walk, no music, no podcast. I struck out strongly and my cheeks were swept softly by the kindest breeze.

A thought came,

“Some people will read what I wrote and question the down deep feeling sadness of it, others or maybe just a couple will read and say, “it’s good to know someone else feels that way. I love her honesty.”

The thing is, I won’t likely know either way. On mornings when such thoughts come together I tend to feel the nudge to share them, someone else may need them.

I walked on and as I walked my thoughts ministered to me. I’ll share how, but first here’s the morning IG post.

To begin with, I pinned the large piece of canvas to the emptied wall space.

I added (imperfectly) the blue painter’s tape. I began with loose lines of the shoulders, head and busts of women.

I didn’t know where they might go. It was sort of an exercise in simply “let’s see, just keep at it.”

I’ve journaled lately a few words that aren’t words you might use in casual conversation. “I’m in a dry season”.

Summer is typically quiet as far as sales and yet, this summer feels drier than most, even a bit parched and hardened.

I told myself not to strive. Tried to figure out the whole algorithm configuration mystery and showed my face which only revealed the reality of aging. Still, I’ll follow my advice and listen to the mirror because it speaks so honestly.

I’ve been reading the passage about the boy who was healed. I found it again by accident when I wanted to read about the transfiguration of Jesus as witnessed by the disciples.

One verse stood out, one request…”help my unbelief”. You may have read this and loved it as I have many times, maybe took as a gift, this much needed and honest request of one man.

“…said with tears, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!”

‭‭Mark‬ ‭9‬:‭24‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

All of the commotion, all of the desperation, all of the conversation about healing and the request that I can’t stop thinking about is resting with me.

Before the man asked Jesus to heal his son, he asked Jesus to heal himself…to heal his unbelief.

To me, this is both beautiful and memorable. (And important)

I’ll keep painting but maybe not so loudly. Maybe there’ll be less (desperate) sharing in hopes to connect.

I may try to be less noisy here.

I’ll be responsive but less reactive.

And today, I’ll ask God to help me choose something to give away, a reset that always soothes me.

But, mostly and most importantly, I’ll continue and believe.

I’ll ask for help in believing when I need it, keeping the “first thing first”.

Help my unbelief.

Barely into my walk, I remembered naming my feeling a “dry season” and held onto the word “season” and thought of how a farmer waits for rain,

Waits with assurance based on past seasons. Waits with patience because of past seasons. Waits with a pause in their soul because of the invitation to reflect.

Dry seasons are an expectation.

So is the longed for gentle rain.

I sat with a friend today who’d been waiting for five years for God to show her how her life would be good again.

When the rain came, a surprising one, she couldn’t believe it and then she cried.

Her dry season has been met by a gentle and beautiful shower, a shower that in her sharing with me replenished the parched ground of me.

So, keep waiting for the rain.

Here’s a business thing. I’ve noticed I’m gaining subscribers but I believe many of them may be “not be right for me” and so, I’m considering adding a monthly subscription option of $8.00. I will still have content for those who are free but for subscribers, I will include exclusive items like a downloadable print, a bookmark, a gift certificate or a step by step tutorial on an art project.

I hope to have a better email list of readers who know my heart, my art and my hopes for connecting.

How does this feel to you? Should I keep my subscriptions free?

Please share your thoughts.

Thank you so much!

In quiet confidence,

Lisa (Anne)