• Healing Touches

    ‘Indelible,’ a rarely used word today, yet a profoundly intimate one. It means we’ve made a mark.

    Left an impression. We’re not easily forgotten. There’s power in that.

    In life, we don’t start out with a concrete plan or an idea of where we’ll end up. Side-winding our way forward as opportunities arise is the norm. Each decision affecting the next step in our journey.

    As I was writing my recently released novel, my personal life was balanced, not always an even flow in my family stream, but I was not often overwhelmed, like we find the main character, Elizabeth, in my book. A stressed-out ER nurse, in a full-blown panic attack.

    I began writing this book almost ten years ago. Long before our current state of medical staffing shortages, and record number of high anxiety with the inability to do more than survive the day. The long hours and stress management have always been the bane of the medical field. Add to it the overwhelming sense of ‘battle’. Your life is on the line in this ‘tour of duty.’ (No offense those in military service. I believe this is a definite parallel in the level stress induced.) It has brought the medical community to a breaking point. So many seasoned providers have changed course. So, how can broken people move forward in strength?

    In one of the pivotal scenes in my book, Elizabeth is found chatting with the cemetery caretaker, Kenneth Greyson. He says to her, ‘Some people leave an indelible impression and others only a wisp of a shadow… and you, my dear, have left many indelible impressions.’

    I believe we’ve forgotten how to place ourselves in someone else’s shoes. And the way forward is by getting back to the basics. Remembering that each life touches another. When this man, the ‘Guardian of the Markers’, took time to invest in this young woman she was able to start piecing together a way forward, toward healing. Someone found her valuable.

    I received a moving testimony this week from a woman who was reading my book and encountered a stressed-out medical employee at her doctor’s office. She connected the character in my book with this young woman and reached out to her in love. She offered kind words and prayer. The result was an overwhelming release of the worker’s tension, frustration, and tears. All because one person could ‘see her.’ Someone recognized her inner pain and reached out in love.

    Our lives intersect with others… may our touch be indelible.

    Blessings,

    Debbie G

    #softtouch #gentleanswer #walkinlove #stressed #healing

  • Treasured Memories

    Written in 2021. I hope this will minister to others facing difficulties.

     My husband was hospitalized. Intubated because his lungs weren’t able to pull in enough oxygen. I visited him daily. If you’ve never been to an intensive care, it is for the truly sick. He was given medication to allow his body to battle the raging attack on his system, ‘asleep’ on a ventilator for more than a week.

    The hospital was gracious in reducing his medication during my visits so we could interact. However, I soon discovered the downside to this medication was memory loss. At about day nine, they switched his medication to one that allowed him to be cognizant. He was shocked to discover that he had lost weeks of his life. Without recall of our conversations, my visits, or my comfort and support, he awakened to a room with a wall of family photos and several reports on his medical status.

    Oh boy, did he have questions… many written notes. When he came to a place of understanding the overwhelming battle that he was facing, I could see discouragement in his eyes. So, I began to search my memory bank of the fun things we had done together. In his isolated room, to the rhythm of the beeping machines, I wove our memories back into the forefront of his brain. No longer battling his frustration at this current turn of events that was beyond his control, he now lingered over the adventures of our history together. And when I paused too long between stories he wrote on his dry erase board, ‘more memories.’

    Medically, I was unable to help my husband, but God gave me this gift of time to be with him. I too had to let go of many things. Things out of my control, including my frustration at his inability to remember our interactions of the past month. But as revisiting the good times helped him, it also helped me, to focus on what I did have today. That he could be with me mentally, right now, in this moment. That I had the privilege of being able to transport him away from the swishing noise of his ventilator to places where we had enjoyed life together. We were on family trips, laughing at our children’s antics, and dancing in our kitchen to the music in our heads. And when the day was over, we had shared many smiles, and I got to enjoy his silent laughs.

    And as I walked the long, lonely hallway on my way back to my car, I was grateful. Even if he didn’t remember this day, I would. I was learning to count my days and to hold precious memories as the treasure that they are.

    Blessings,

    Debbie G

    Whatever is pure, lovely, praise-worthy-Philippians 4:8

    Comfort one another- 1 Thessalonians 4:18

    #lettinggo #countingblessings #comfortothers #walkingthelonghallway #truetreasures

  • Stepping Out in Style

    Pedicures. Never had one, but I can say after a long day on my feet that a cleansing foot massage would be glorious. But to be sure, I wouldn’t treat it as I would a car wash. I’d arrive with clean feet.

    So, I wondered what’s up with Jesus spending his final hours with his disciples by washing their feet? And the crazy tidbit thrown into the mix is that Jesus knew that Judas (one of his hand-picked followers) planned to betray him, and he washed his feet anyway. Now that’s some self-control.

    We read that Jesus wrapped a towel around himself and must have knelt at their feet with a basin of water. Picture Jesus kneeling at twelve individual men’s feet. Dusty, dirty appendages that he touched personally. Imagine their thoughts as they waited for their turn. As Jesus washed and dried, he listened to Simon’s rebuke, “No, you’ll never wash my feet,” and Jesus’s response changed Simon’s ‘never’ to wanting more: “then also wash my hands and my head.”

    Jesus clearly stated that all need to be cleansed by Me. This experience was not only an example in humility, but it was also preparation for the journey ahead. Their job going forward would be to make disciples. Time consuming work. Jesus washed 24 feet on his last night of freedom and that took time. Probably not what we’d choose to do if we knew it would be our last night here on earth.

    Jesus went to the place of ‘further still’. Yes, this was ministry work. They already knew hardships. But it was also the dirty work, the intimate work, and in a few hours, they’d understand more fully that it was the sacrificial work that he calls all followers to.

    Now, a pedicure involves much more than foot cleansing… it is truly digging deeper, rounding off the rough spots, trimming away sharp edges, and finally massaging moisturizers into the skin. Just like the walk of faith does in our lives. We root out misunderstood passages, prejudices, and pride by drawing close to the Teacher.

    Jesus taught that all people are worthy of God’s love regardless of their lives, actions, or choices. No person is ‘too far gone’ to offer the hope of salvation, not even one’s ‘enemies.’

    And like Mary who anointed Jesus’s feet with a year’s worth of nard, (fragrant oil) Jesus was fitting their feet to go into all the earth with the gospel of peace.

    We walk in love best when we’re willing to get a little dirty.

    Blessings,

    Debbie G

     

    John 13: Jesus washing feet.

    John 12:3: Mary’s anointing.

    Ephesians 6:15: Feet fitted with the gospel of peace.

    Matthew 28:19 Make disciples of all nations.

    #pedicure #footwashing #nevertoofargone #walkinginlove

  • Dreams and Pauses

    Dreams, they’re personal and reveal depths we sometimes have to grapple with. I will admit, I am a dreamer. Having lived in a busy household for decades means that I processed a lot while I slept.

    Answers to issues, personal failings, or the direction needed to proceed came in the early morning waking hours… in my quiet times of reflection or through a dream. I’ve had so many dreams that I now log them in a ‘dream journal.’

    Lately though, I’ve been in a season of rest. Perhaps you could label it regrouping or pondering, but in essence it’s me waiting for direction. It’s the ‘what’s next, Lord’ question.

    Sometimes I get a clear answer like ‘go here and do this.’ Other times the answer comes in circumstances unforeseen. And although I know God is working in these pauses, I’m anxious to get-on-with-it.

    Do you ever wonder what is He doing in these pauses? I suspect that whatever lies ahead may need skills I’m to be building now or perhaps strengthening ones that I already possess. So, while I work on retaining what I know, I look for open doors. Discernment is needed before entering any door though, for not every door is open for my benefit.

    My current dreams are motion related perhaps indicating that I may be ready for the next part of my journey. Do I have any dreamer friends out there? Remember that Joseph was a dreamer, and it took about twenty years of hardship for his dream to be realized. I’ll encourage you with the thought that God can speak to us in many ways. And not every dream is a direction dream, but it may be. As we prayerfully wait, we can trust that this time of preparation will help us in whatever challenges lie ahead.

    Keep on doing what you know is right to do, and He’ll get you on your way soon enough. He leads, He directs, He guides… and it’ll bear fruit all in His perfect timing.

    And trust that pauses are part of His plan. You can rest in that. 

    Blessings,

    Debbie G

     

    Isaiah 26:3 You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.

    Genesis 37 The story of Joseph the dreamer.

    #rest #pause #dreams #SeasonsOfRest #trustthepause

  • Savoring

    In many ways I’m a creature of habit. I like my day to start with hot black coffee. My breakfast routine is fairly consistent- eggs and veggies. And I try to stick to not-eating between meals. So, why am I so focused on food this morning? Because I also am learning to slow down.

    In my busy years, (raising 7 that I homeschooled) life came at a hectic pace. My early hour alone was my place of sanity. And many times, we were eating on the fly as we traveled to sports practices, a music lesson or dropping someone off at work. Needless to say, our meals weren’t always healthy nor leisurely.

    The past few months I’ve also been pondering gratitude, which brings me to this morning’s breakfast, but first let me back up a bit to a season pre-kids. I accepted an invitation to an extravagant dinner. A place where men were given a suit coat to wear if they showed up in too casual an attire for the ambience.

    If having someone redressed behind you wasn’t uncomfortable enough, having the waiter lay a cloth napkin on your lap, and checking in at least twice during each serving certainly added to my unrest. Every course was followed by fresh water ‘to cleanse your palate.’

    Unfortunately, the European-trained chef that showcased his remarkable skills fell on my ‘meat and potatoes’ appetite. Two hours and seven courses later, was enough for me to realize that I didn’t feel ‘polished’ enough to visit such a fancy establishment.

    Now, back to this morning’s breakfast. My simple fare of eggs and veggies that fills my belly is more my style, but as I remembered that ‘refined meal’ from years ago I realized that the experience also entailed slowing down to appreciate the combination of textures.

    So, this morning, I did that. I paused, savoring each bite. Which allowed me to experience the separate flavors. The pepper, the light coating of cheddar cheese, the various veggies. Unlike the busy years of child raising, I can now slowly chew on these morsels, grateful for not only the provision, but for this season of quiet. A place where hurry is being undone.

    I am reminded that God too, offers us His Word in great chunks. Paragraphs, chapters, and books… How do I un-hurry here? Like that meal of long ago, I can nibble a one verse, savoring the various nuances and parallels. Who is this verse talking to? I take a few moments to hunt down the answer by looking up the references.  Great, now how can I apply this in my life today? By mentally slowing down and releasing what I think I already know, this pause ‘cleanses my palate’ so God can expand my taste buds with a fresh experience.

    Who knows that today’s morsel might turn into a two-hour meal, but now I can appreciate the Master Chef’s recipes. I’m not concerned with embarrassing my companion with my lack of finesse or inappropriate etiquette for He accepts me as I am. Each ingredient He adds and every course He presents is leading me to the grand finale. Where I will stand in appreciation for the refinement He is now doing in me.

    Bon Appetit,

    Debbie G

    Taste and see that the Lord is good. Psalm 34:8

    #eggs #slowdown #savor #tasteandsee #cleanseyourpalate

  • My Strength

    I felt an impression this morning to read from the book of Isaiah and my thought was, Oh no, I don’t like Isaiah. It’s full of judgment. I just didn’t want to start my day off with sadness. I found myself complaining as I opened to chapter 12 and began to read. Thanks to the Lord, he turned from his anger and comforted me. God is my song and strength. I will trust and not fear. God is my salvation.

    I took a deep breath and read on about drawing from his well and singing his praises. Which then moved to shouting with joy for the Lord is in your midst.

    I paused and chided myself for grumbling. “God, I love Isaiah!”

    I am reminding myself to not fear (or whine) when he leads me to read difficult passages. It’ll take working through hard places for me to reach the end of my story here on earth. And so often, like today, I am humbled by his compassion as he leads me to inspiring verses to start my day.

    I will trust and not fear for he is my strength and my song. Hoping you find strength for this day.

    Blessings,

    Debbie

    #MyStrength #MorningDevotion

  • Broken Wings

    She was only about twelve inches tall, but she spoke to me, and I bought her. Placing her atop my writing area, I hoped that perhaps my words would flow like her long flowing robe.

    I loved that she held her heart outside her chest, evident that she held nothing back. She offered love to all who came her way. And as she gave it, her heart enlarged making room for more love.

    And how my own heart lurched when she teetered and fell, breaking into pieces. So many pieces… I wasn’t sure she could be repaired. Life was busy then; I placed her broken form back above my writing space and shoved the pieces aside. There she sat for five years until I noticed her again today.

    One wing missing. Her base broken and leaning against the books there on the shelf. Missing pieces. What to do with my broken angel? With so many broken places in life could I just let this broken thing go? I looked at her again… she was beyond repair, yet I still loved her.

    Now grounded, she could only touch those nearby, but her spirit wasn’t compromised. In her leaning, she found strength in those nearby that supported her. Somehow, in her fragmented state, the bonds of friendship grew stronger.

    I lean closer, I see that her heart hasn’t been touched… still complete, unchanged. Out in the open, holding all that she loves close to her chest.

    I took her down off her long-standing spot… and dusted her off. Then gently replaced her on her perch, overlooking my words. She is a reminder that there is beauty no matter how broken. And if you can no longer fly, you can still love.

    Remember to love…

    Blessings,

    Debbie G

     

    He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. Psalm 147:3

     

  • Owning the Gray

    What a difference ten months can make. I decided late in 2020 to start letting my hair go natural. I lightened my brown tones each time so it wouldn’t be such a harsh change. But for those who weren’t around for the process and compared my appearance to the photo on the back of my book, I’d hear, “Wow, I wouldn’t have recognized you.”

    So, I had a new photo taken for the back of Book 2 (due out this summer).  I’m amazed at how much I’ve aged in the past year. Yeah, I know, gray hair means I’ve lived and apparently, I now have wisdom. Quite a bit of it actually!

    But when I see the first photo, I recognize that I was in a state of grieving, almost a numbness. My husband and his beautiful momma had passed within a few months of each other, and I made a decision to just press on. This photo was me shouting to the heavens that I was going to complete what I had started, the book I had begun ten years earlier. I stood on the shoreline of the river we had both loved, in an effort to let my husband know I was ‘letting the baby fly.’ (a reference to my continuing to stall on moving forward with my novel)

    Now, months after its release, I face new challenges without the numbness of that initial grief. I don’t have my handy computer tech to bounce things off of. No wisdom on what computer applications to add or to avoid on my webpage. I can personally attest that the adage is true, you don’t truly appreciate all the ways someone is a blessing until they’re no longer there.

    In sharing this journey, I know it will help many get through their own season of grief. Some days I can focus on doing the next thing, and on others I simply crawl back into bed for a nap. Honestly, it helps.

    So today, I wonder about the ‘wiser looking Debbie’.  (I refuse to call myself old- yet!) Learning to do things alone again. Changing the wording of ‘we’ to ‘I or me’. Adjusting your eating, sleeping, and working habits, it all takes time. Just like any other season of life there are trials and errors. Over it all, I try to give myself grace. I’m heading gently into this new year. I wish you all wisdom to fully show your love to those dear to yourself, and the grace to start over gently when necessary.

    Blessings always,

    ~ Debbie G

    #Grief #ForwardJourney #GivingGrace #GoingGray

    https://booklocker.com/12575

  • Sunrise to Sunset

    The pink of morning

    Highlights of the late day’s sunshine on my trees kicked me into high gear. Quickly, I grabbed my camera. I started my day with some sunrise pictures now it’s time for some evening ones.
    As I jog down my stairs and out the door, I realize that I will be standing in last of this day’s rays, and when I see the stump of a tree in my front lawn, I am reminded that these rays will never touch my husband again.
    Grief slips in unannounced, and I battle back tears as I snap the first photo. The red tones were already deeper than I anticipated. I focus on getting the right foreground for the next set of shots.
    Then it’s as if a voice whispers, ‘Remember this morning’s sunrise?’
    I pause and recall the hint of pink I caught on the topside of a cloud through a break in the gray expanse.
    Yes, my mind answers in response to the prompt. There was no glorious burst of color, but I did catch the wisp of pink.

    Right now, in my evening sky, the sun is shining above the clouds. And not everyone has gray skies tonight. Anyone in an airplane can attest to the beauty of breaking through a dark sky into the glory of the sunshine above. It’s breathtaking.

    I continue to walk and snap photos, almost on autopilot, capturing the beauty of my given sphere. Tears seem to ease and then a great sob of sadness again washes over me. He was a good man who loved me. Yes, I am thankful for the gift he was. I remind myself of these truths and am grateful that one of the gifts he gave me was the camera I was holding. I grip it tighter. It somehow reminds me constantly of his love.

    Another internal whisper and I am halted by the thought that although my husband will not stand in the shadow of the sunshine here on earth, he is currently enjoying the full light of heaven’s glory. Oh, the thought to never have to face any kind of shadow ever again is pure bliss.

    The diversion of capturing tonight’s sunset has worked its magic. From morning to sunset sky, I am not alone. My internal Comforter walks with me reminding me of these truths. I discover that my heart is more at peace each time I let myself grieve a bit. Gratefulness and sadness have become my friends as I journey to wholeness. And the light above guides me on the path ahead.

    Peace and blessings, my friend. You are not alone.

    The glory of sunset.

    Feel free to drop me a line.

    Debbie G

    #sunrisetosunset #notalone #notSidelinedbyGrief #JourneytoWholeness

  • Silent Years

    You’ve hit a rough patch before, right? You’ve run out of options. You turn your eyes to God and are surprised that His eyes are already on you. Opening His word, you ask for wisdom; and he promises to give it.

    What power is it that takes a written phrase and speaks to our hearts? We read this powerful scripture aloud and somehow the atmosphere hears his words. With our voice, we are aligning ourselves with HIM; with his kingdom and his power. He says, “Ask me for My answer.” So, we do.

    Now we listen and await his response. Sometimes the answer is an overwhelming, in your face, open door, and other times it means waiting in silence for years as he moves things into position for the perfect answer to our request. And if that’s you. If you are in year three and are still waiting, keep in the Word!  Keep washing away the impurities we’ve picked up from those around us. Stay focused on walking rightly and when that door opens, we’re going to fall down in worship, overwhelmed that the Creator of the Universe thought so much of little ol’ us to give such a wonderful gift.
    El Roi translates into ‘the God who sees.’ He sees you. He desires you to know him more, and he’s never too busy to respond to a heart that’s seeking him.

    The deepest honor we can receive is the honor God gave to young Joseph. First, He gave him the dream. Then came years of silence as he was rejected by brothers, sold into slavery, falsely accused and thrown into prison. We don’t have access to Joseph’s thoughts or how he struggled with comprehending how his dream would ever come to pass, but in our humanness, we can imagine that he did indeed struggle.

    Then our hearts soar as he is released from prison. And when we read that Joseph rose to become the second highest man in the kingdom let us not make light of the silent years. The young boy matured into adulthood and continued to walk righteously even when he was alone in a foreign land. God was aligning the world and used these hardships to move Joseph into position for Joseph’s dream to come to pass.
    So, if God is trusting you in a time of waiting, be encouraged. His silence was an answer to that faithful young man, and it can be shouting that he’s working things out for you too.
    Blessings,

    Debbie G

    Suggested reading: 

    Washing by the water of the word.  Ephesians 5:26                                                                                                                                                                        El Roi. Genesis 16:13                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      Joseph’s story. Genesis 37-41

    #Provision4theVision, #SilentYears, #Favor4theRighteous

  • Ordinary Beauty

    As the creator of the universe, God could have presented Himself to the world in any way He wanted. We are witnesses to His originality and love for beauty in the mere panorama of the sphere we occupy. As king over heaven and earth, He could have come as regal as any; after all He is called the King of kings. Imagine the pomp and celebration that would have ensued had He suddenly appeared with His host of angels. And yet when we read about His humble beginnings in a barn, and that He had nothing to draw us to Him in the natural sense, now any man can identify with Him.

    Christ chose to come in this nondescript way so that we couldn’t say, “Oh well, I’m nothing like Jesus.” Because honestly, we’re all like Him in our humanness. We’re just common beings living in a fallen world, and sometimes we’re kicked by the very people we hold close to our hearts.

    We’re born with a wrinkly face that only a momma could love, oh but the heart. It’s the overflow of the heart that shows the true character of a man. And we can see by His friend’s testimonies that Jesus loved. He loved His enemies. He loved His family that tried to stop His ministry. And He loved His friends that scattered and left Him alone in His hour of need. He even reinstated them after His resurrection. And He’s still loving today.

    So, draw near. Confess your frustrations to the One who knows how hard this season of life can be. To the One who endured everything that this world threw at Him. To the One who defeated death so that you and I could live.

    Tis true, common people who are hard pressed are not crushed. We may be struck down, but we’re not defeated. We rise. Like Christ, we learn to love those who hurt us. We forgive as He forgave. We know that they don’t know what they are doing. We also know what we need to do. We’re learning to walk out the Great Commission. Every day introducing people to the love of Christ that radiates from within us. And perhaps, just maybe they will get a glimpse of Him in our actions, in our words, in the love in our eyes. And oh- what a glorious thought this is… perhaps they too will fall in love with the Lover of their souls.

    Let it be so, Lord Jesus. Let it be so.

    Blessings. ~Debbie

    Isaiah 53:2 He grew up before him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of dry ground. He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.

    Suggested reading: Reading: 2 Corinthians 4:8-12

  • Vagabond Writer

    A wanderer.
    Room to room, notes on my phone, sending myself emails. My brain overflowing with impressions, parallels, searching for wisdom beyond myself. Surprised to discover new truths. Age old adages come alive in the light of this day. Heavenly whispers that mark out a new path.

    Highlights of light on the treetops – the birds swoop between them without care.
    A squirrel slips down a trunk- all that remains is a bouncing twig as he makes an acrobatic leap to a branch on the other side of the ravine.

    I sit observing the changes in the defused light as the sun climbs in the sky.

    Holy Spirit is opening a way for me. Constantly changing, yet always forward.

    ~Debbie G