Invocation

Invocation: the action of invoking something or someone for assistance or as an authority

I did not have a singular defining moment for accepting God into my heart. Our relationship grew with every encounter - from my experience of Him rescuing anxious thoughts to undeserved advantages in life's circumstances. This latest expansion requires me to move past invitation to invocation. I've held onto control for a long time. Invocation requires a more full experience of God as an authority. I can ask for His help and support as a Father, and wade in his direction and influence. 

Next year's recalibration provides the sensation of a salt water float, dispersing the chronic pressures of the past two years into a buoyant landing place of trust. 

New Normal

"When the framework of our daily existence gets completely dismantled and the landscape around us grows increasingly unrecognizable, our strongest longing is seldom prosperity. What we yearn for is normalcy. We don't tend to ask for the moon when we've lost all we've known. We just want some semblance of our old lives back. The hard truth is, there's no real going back. But once we get up again, there can be a going forward. In His faithfulness, God sees to it what we thought was the end isn't the end after all. And eventually, perhaps not terribly long after, we realize we've transitioned into a new normal." 

- Beth Moore, "Chasing Vines: Finding Your Way to an Immensely Fruitful Life"

Permission to Launch

Sometimes you have to go to a place they've never been to become a woman they've never seen.

----

John 15 is a staple biblical chapter in my life. I've never captured its full interpretation but I comb it routinely for new applications in my life. When my husband and I divinely received our daughter's name - while watching Netflix (ha!) - we didn't know that it meant "vine". Today, I read up on vines and vineyards to shape my parenting and connection to the Father.

A vineyard's soil requires a few rocks in it. Too many rocks and the vine is strangled. Too few rocks and the vine grows extra leafy. In both instances, no fruit. 

Your womanhood journey requires you to be planted in soil that has a few rocks in it. Too little care and you won't blossom at all. Too much comfort and you'll be all flash and no substance.

You must go. Your home base is too safe. Travel to new places that may pose a challenge but also provide opportunities for growth. Go to the places your forerunners haven't been so you can "bear much fruit".

Pull Up

It's typical for me to hear the elders cry, "I just don't understand why these boys won't pull up their pants." It's a modern trend some say born from prison yard fashion since belts are not allowed.

One elder began mentoring young men and realized something profound. "Pull their minds up," he said, "and the pants follow."

Adopt of a daily practice of pulling up your mind... so you don't show your a**. 

(I just wanted to make you all chuckle today. LOL!)

Cut Flowers

Pandemic pressure - from shifts in work expectations to transformations in interpersonal relationships - necessitated new practices in my life. Staying grounded looks like pausing during my dog walks to open my chest and look up at the sky. Maintaining connections requires virtual check-ins when soul urges crave sisterhood. And my immersion in nature, for rest, means gazing at the cut flowers I bought from Trader Joe's. 

They require plant food, water, and morning hellos. The gentle pruning ensures nutrients are received while the family sleeps. Despite all this, they die. Slowly, the vibrant colors fade. Before turning dry and brown, the petals shrink. 

I myself shrink in times of stress. I ride out adversity by falling back, determined to grow invisible to life's challenges. But then I remember that He is my living water, forcing me to show up when tempted to retreat. I have permission to encounter challenges with frequencies of God's promises to stick with me and be my source.