Woman to Woman: Meekness is not Weakness.

Posted on March 26, 2014 by Meredith Bernard under Daily Walk, Woman to Woman

A woman covered from head to toe who only speaks when spoken to and has no ability to defend herself. Timid and shy. That’s been my view of what the word meek meant in the past. Meekness is weakness, right? That’s what people say. That’s what people think. I did.

I was wrong. They are wrong.

Meekness is actually a characteristic of Christ that we are to emulate. And wear. Boldly.

Continuing to talk woman to woman today as we dissect this instructional verse,

Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness…” (Colossians 3:12 ESV)

What is meekness if not weakness? An attitude of grace, I believe. A choice to take the high road, when you are being steered down the lesser one.

Surely meekness is a close cousin to the better fit of humility we discussed last week, but not one in the same.

Merriam-Webster’s defines meekness as “ enduring injury with patience and without resentment” and “not violent.”

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for this notably aloof blonde to recognize the greatest living testimony to that definition.

…looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:2 ESV)

Has another human ever exemplified the definition of meekness more than Jesus? I say not.

And how do we as women begin to see ourselves as capable of the same? I ask you. I don’t have the answer. I just know He did it. And He expects us to. And then there is this great reward for figuring out how to wear this seemingly impossible to wear trait,

The payoff for meekness and Fear-of-God
is plenty and honor and a satisfying life. (Proverbs 22:4 MSG)

Yes, please. I’ll take those words on my headstone. “She lived a God-fearing, honorable and satisfying life.”

How do I get there? How do we get there?

We could start by recognizing meekness for what it is. It does not equate to a life lived in fear or under someone’s thumb. Quite the opposite.

We choose to endure our trials with strength and dignity and grace. This does not mean we endure abuse that goes against the laws of man or of God. Meekness is not a means to excuse or tolerate abuse. God allowed laws to be put in place for our protection and if we experience abuse that breaks those laws, we should always seek help and a way out.

I’m talking about the trials that God gives us to endure for His names sake. Those things we don’t necessarily want to go through, but when we do we come out stronger than before and He is glorified through our example of meekness to a world that needs to see it personified. To a world that saw it once and didn’t realize it for what it was.

Jesus endured the cross for the JOY set before Him. He could see the other side and in humility and meekness, He stayed on the cross when He could have called legions of Angels to rescue Him. But He had a greater plan. One of redemption and grace and hope. A plan that through His meekness was fulfilled.

Woman to woman, can we remember this great example of meekness the next time we face a trial threatening to leave us only weak?

Can we agree that meekness is not really weakness and is actually worth putting on? And even weakness when worn in the image of Christ, is strength.

It’s not wrong to be weak. When we are weak, He is strong.

It’s not wrong to be meek. When we are meek, He is lifted High.

In meekness He was lifted high that we might experience the same Joy one day. One glorious day. A day worth putting on meekness for today.

Graciously yours,
Meredith

Welcome to Woman to Woman Wednesday’s here on my little piece of blog real estate. Working to encourage each other to truth in Christ. I would be ever so honored if you would link-up with your own blog post on today’s topic by clicking below on the little blue frog or at the least, share some comments with us. We are all in this together and we can learn so much more from each other than on our own. Agree? Thank you for stopping by and I can’t wait to meet you! xoxo-Meredith

Home like collards and Granny.

Posted on March 25, 2014 by Meredith Bernard under Faith, Reflections

The knot in my gut is twisting tighter as her breath draws shallow. I just spoke to her on the phone and could only muster an “I love you, Granny” when there were a million other words that wanted to come out, but couldn’t find there way past the knot. So I come to this keypad that has become my solace when the words won’t come out of my mouth and need to just come from my soul. The cursor blinks expectantly for words of hope and encouragement and I don’t have them today. Only a knot. And memories.

The smell of collards cooking makes some people wince, but to me it smells like home. Just like the embrace of that round white-haired woman cooking them. Like home. In that kitchen with the metal cabinets and washer and dryer and small table all fit neat on the end of that big white farm house that leaned a little downhill on the edge of a potato field in flat eastern North Carolina.

Granddaddy was a potato farmer and his Naomi knew how to cook those round white spuds perfectly mixed in with that greasy pot liquor. That’s not some kind of alcoholic drink, it’s what the juice from cooked collards is referred to in eastern NC where this woman who hugged like home lived and raised three girls and took her care of farmer husband.

Between Granny’s collards and homemade biscuits with a side of her insatiable and all-too-often embarrassing jokes, stomachs and souls would be filled. Filled with goodness that comes from hard work and a simple life and not taking yourself too seriously, the world does enough of that for you.

Summers were spent at our slice of the only heaven we knew along the Pamlico River. My brother and cousins and I would stay weeks with our Grandparents and there would be plenty of jokes and swimming and collards. Granny would pile us in the Pontiac and we’d travel the 30 miles to the Moose Lodge to play Bingo alongside her with her 20 cards taped together and three bags of ink dobbers. There were lucky charms and cigarette smoke and pepsi’s enough to float a boat and make some grandchildren feel like they had been to town in the grandest way.

There were nap time rituals that involved her rendition of “Michael Finnagan” that my children now request over and over until I’m out of breath and blue in the face. There was the snore game where she would pretend to snore ten times and on number ten we better be asleep, or at least pretend like it.

Those were the days. Memories too many to name with a woman too loved to put in words.

Last August I piled the kids and myself in my ford for the ten hour trek to Florida where Granny now lives between her two daughters homes. We shared a week of the same jokes I’ve heard for thirty-five years and they were as funny as the first time they tickled my ears. Granny was turning ninety and there would be too many new memories to miss if we didn’t attempt the trip. So we went. And we shared a week that I wouldn’t trade for a plate full of Granny’s collards and potatoes.

If one has ever exemplified a life lived in joy, this woman has. She didn’t have it easy. Her soul and her body has known it’s share of loss. From losing a breast to cancer and other parts I can’t even name to so many surgeries I can’t begin to count, her body knows loss. From losing a husband after almost fifty years of tending to him daily with lunch at eleven thirty and supper at five o’clock and losing a daughter that mothered me after having her for a short fifty years, her soul knows loss.

She is a survivor and I think a part of me thought that meant she would live…longer. Ninety years is a long time. A good long time. But is it ever long enough for those left behind? The writing appears to be on the wall as much as on this screen, but I know God will take her when He’s ready and not a minute sooner.

This may mean we get to celebrate ninety-one years with her here. And it may mean we celebrate here without her.

The sweetest part of her story is that she knows her Savior…and He knows her. She is at peace with her life and though she would rather stay to see her grands another day, she is at peace if she doesn’t. She knows where she’s going and I’m sure my mama will be happy to see her mama again. In perfect form. And even more than that, she is most likely closer than us to spending the rest of her life praising the Lord. Literally praising the Lord.

So when we do lay her body to rest under the pines next to that small brick Methodist church where she poured her heart and children into, we will do it rejoicing in the promise her soul will not be at rest, but resurrected and rejoicing, along side her Savior.

I find peace in that. My knot is starting to loosen as her breath may remain shallow…but ever closer to being swept up in Glory and the sweet release.

She told me tonight in her sweet, weak voice that she loved me more than I loved her…in tears I disagreed. But then again, who is going to tell this ninety year old woman what is right and what is wrong. She’s closer to Heaven than me and if she wants to think she loves me more, I’ll let her.

It’s not about loving more or less anyway, it’s just about knowing this kind of love. Between a girl and her Granny. I’ve had two sent from God and He’s close to bringing the second one Home. Leaving a void in this motherless mother that’s soon to be grandmother-less, too.

I’ve had more than some ever get. More of a mother for twenty-one years, more of two grandmothers in thirty-five and more love all together than some know in a lifetime. I’m not complaining. I’m just grieving. And rejoicing at the same time. And yes, that is possible.

Graciously,
Meredith

Big or Small. It’s all the Same.

Posted on March 24, 2014 by Meredith Bernard under Daily Walk, Faith

Somedays I need to know that the small stuff in my life matters as much as the big stuff. And sometimes my small stuff seems bigger to me than it would to you. But knowing all my stuff is big to God brings solace.

Really, all our stuff matters to God. No matter how big or small it is to us. No matter how big or small it is to someone else.

He actually tells us to bring it Him. No matter what it is. He doesn’t just say to tell Him about it, He actually says to THROW it on Him. How’s that for a God that cares?

Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.” (1 Peter 5:6-7, ESV)

God doesn’t want us to hold onto our problems, knowing we can do nothing about them. The longer we hold them, the more they become us. The more they take over our lives and our heart and our soul.

Instead, God wants us to not only bring, but FLING, our problems on Him. That’s what that word cast means in the Greek. To fling, hurl or toss and to do it quickly. God doesn’t want us holding onto our problems for more than a second. He wants us to step out of our problems and give them to Him to wear. He can wear them a lot easier than we can.

God wants to own our problems, instead of our problems owning us.

No matter the size of our bucket of rocks, God’s bucket is bigger.

I can tell you my problems and you can listen and not be able to really do anything about them. And sometimes that’s really a great comfort. Just being able to speak the problem. Give it life. And get it out. But does that really solve anything? In the end, usually not.

We actually have Someone available to us that not only wants to hear our problems, He wants to TAKE our problems from us. And the best part is, He is actually able to do something about them. How’s that for a God that loves?

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” (Hebrews 4:15-16, ESV)

Draw near. Yeah, that’s easier said than done somedays. Either we see our problems as too small to bring to such a big God or we are so engulfed in the enormity of our problems, we can’t see through the fog to make it to the throne. Ever been there?

I have. I’ve been in both places. Small problems too trivial to bother anyone, let alone God, with. And problems so big I can’t get out of bed and stop crying to find my way to my knees or my bible. And what would I say or read when I got there?

Look at that verse in Hebrews again. It says we have a God that gets it. He’s been there and felt that. Jesus experienced every emotion and hurt we could ever or will ever endure. And we are promised that if we draw near to His mercy seat, we will find grace and help.

Grace and help. Those are two beautiful words to a soul in need of them. And in the midst of whatever your situation, you can always identify the moment you need these. You may not know how to get them, but you always know when you need them.

Well here is a reminder. These two things, Grace and Help, are always available to the children of the Living God. The great Grace-Giver. The only source of true Help in the midst of our troubles. Big or Small. It’s all the Same.

Graciously,
Meredith

Five Minute Friday | {Joy}

Posted on March 21, 2014 by Meredith Bernard under Daily Walk, Faith, Five Minute Friday

Five minutes. Unfiltered. Unedited. Real. Raw. Words. Joining up with the awesomely awesome mama/blogger/author/friend Lisa-Jo Baker and many more awesomely awesome bloggers for Five Minute Friday.

Today’s prompt is “Joy.”

START

When I hear the word “joy” I think immediately of that song I sung as a child in Sunday School. Sitting at that miniature table on those little wooden seats with names of the older church kids carved in them. Surrounded by those white cinder block walls and felt board and posters holding my little white bible engraved with my name in silver.

That song about “Joy, Joy, Joy…down in my heart, down in my heart, down in my heart…to stay.”

Where did that joy come from? Where did it go?

All those years singing about it and learning about it and never really finding it. Not real joy.

Sure there were good days. Lots of good days. A great childhood. Loving family. In those little wooden seats every time the door opened…singing about joy. But where was it?

It was where it always has been. In my heart. I just had to find it. I had to seek the One who put it there and give Him the opportunity to let it flow.

I was thirty years old before I ever really did that. Gave my heart to Him so He could let the joy come in. And go out.

I still find it hard to find the joy some days. Today. In the midst of should have beens and used to be’s and would have if’s…the joy can get lost.

But it’s still there. If we seek Him, He promises we will find Him. And where He is there is Joy.

And if He’s in us and we are IN HIM, we have joy.

We choose Jesus. We choose Joy.

That’s simple enough for this simple girl to get. When I don’t have joy it’s because I haven’t chosen it.

It’s in me. I just have to fight for it more some days than others.

Choose Jesus. Choose Joy.

Graciously,
Meredith

STOP (well…that may have been a few minutes more than 5…I won’t lie. $:\$ )

Thank you for choosing to stop by today. I would be truly joyful if you would take a moment to say “Hi” in the comments!
Blessings,
Meredith

Woman to Woman: The better fit.

Posted on March 19, 2014 by Meredith Bernard under Perfectly Imperfect, Prayers, Woman to Woman

There’s a question burning in me today sparked from an ember coming from the mouth of Jesus. Just this He says, “Yet I do not seek my own glory…” (John 8:50 ESV). And these words burn my soul with the question, “Meredith…whose glory are you seeking?”

Whose glory am I seeking today? Yesterday? I mean really. Whose glory?

I could be pious as the pillars of the Jewish society were that condemned their Savior as demon possessed, not seeing Him for who He was because they were engulfed in the very one they accused Him of being.

I could say that I only and always seek to glorify God. That’s what I want to hear from my own mouth. That’s what I want to do. That’s who I want to be. Like Jesus.

But I’m not. And I don’t. More often than not…I only seek to glorify myself. I’m selfish like that. I’m not the epitome of humility. Though I truly want to be. I want to be more than I am today. And maybe that’s a good first step?

Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility…” (Col. 3:12)

There it is. That word. Humility.

I’m supposed to clothe myself with humility. The beautiful crown jewel of humility worn on a beloved daughter.

It’s a pretty picture in my mind. But it’s an ugly reality in my heart.

Miriam-Webster’s defines humility as “: the quality or state of not thinking you are better than other people : the quality or state of being humble.”

So, yeah. There is that then. Can you feel my mouth drawing up twisted and eyebrows raised? That’s what I’m doing right now. Kind of like my sweet nephew…when he senses somethings not. quite. right.

That’s not me. That’s not even in me. I have no ability to be that person. To think more of you than of me.

That sounds so vain. Because it is. I am.

It’s not in me to do or be more for you than I do or think of myself. I don’t think it’s in you either. And woman to woman today…it’s not in us, is it?

How often do we as women actually put our sisters dreams, desires and goals ahead of our own?
How often do we as women give up what we want to help a sister get what she wants?
How often do we as women lift up a sister in praise instead of tearing her down with word or thought or deed?

How often?

Pride leads to disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom. (Proverbs 11:2, NLT)

So…is there any hope for us? Any hope for me?

Yes there is. We are told to put on this freeing adornment of humility.

And if we are clothed in humility, then there will be no room for pride.

And if there is no room for pride, then ladies, we are on the right track.

It’s time to take off the choking necklace of pride and instead adorn ourselves with beautiful humility.

Got that? Pride chokes. Humility frees.

Humility frees from the weight of having to do better than her. Be better than her. Look prettier than her. Have more well behaved kids than her. Have a better job than her. Have a more godly husband than her. Have a better car/house/wardrobe…than her. And the choking, prideful list goes on and on and on.

Imagine how beautiful we would all be wearing the God-given gem of humility instead of pride, greed, selfishness, dissension and contempt.

I am saying today we can CHOOSE to put on humility and wear it with dignity. With strength. With grace.

We choose not to daily, so why can’t we instead choose to?

It’s a mind change. A habit change. A heart change.

It’s not natural to be humble. But I say…no, Jesus says, it is possible. And necessary. And right.

Baby steps. We crawl before we walk. We walk before we run. (Well most do…I know a couple of exceptions. 😉 )

Either way, we have to start somewhere. Some day. Might as well be this day.

Woman to woman…will you try on this jewel of humility with me today? It may just be the perfect fit once we yield ourselves to it.

And I dare to believe the more we wear it, the better it will fit.

Graciously,
Meredith

It’s “Woman to Woman” Wednesday. Working on unity of the sisterhood here on Wednesdays one perfectly imperfect word at a time. If you would like to share your thoughts on todays post or add your own comments about how we can grow in humility as a sisterhood, we welcome your words below. Feel free to leave comments or add a link to your own blog post. Please visit the link before you and offer some “love” on their post. We all need some love, right? Please hash it out with us using #w2w when you share on twitter/fb/IG. 😀 You can view last week’s post here.

An InLinkz Link-up

Hope in the Weeds.

Posted on March 17, 2014 by Meredith Bernard under Daily Walk, Perfectly Imperfect, Sin Life

At the risk of sounding cliche, I’m going to sound cliche. Spending some good soul-searching-dirt-under-fingernail time this past week on an unseasonably warm day led to a few analogies I have to share. Analogies about weeds. Weeds in my plant bed and weeds in the bed of my soul.

danville-va-portrait-photographer_0002

My soul that sprouts weeds so easily. All it takes is one lie to get them started. Just like the garden of Eden. One lie deemed truth turned the world upside down. Forever changed the course of history. For one man and one woman who had the perfect life. Believed the perfect lie. And the rest was history.

How is my own soul like that? In too many ways to count.

I let the Enemy tell me one lie. To paraphrase my pastor, “Even a half-truth is a whole lie.” Satan’s really good at that. Telling me a half-truth to get me doubting and then get me acting on it.

Believing less than the whole I really know to be true. Forgetting who I am in Christ and believing who the world says I am. Or should be. Or could be.

Then this one lie becomes like a weed in my heart. And it doesn’t need water to grow. In fact, it likes drought.

The drier the better. A dry soul is a breeding ground for the lies of the Enemy to spread like wildfire.

A soul parched from lack of Truth is sure to catch fire from the Enemy’s lies.

Those chickweeds of lies work on killing this chick. One by one by one. They multiply to death.

As I dug out the weeds in the plant bed, it became obvious the only way to get them all was to extract them by hand. They seemed to multiply as I pulled. It was tedious. It was dirty. My back hurt. My knees hurt. But in the end, it was soul satisfying. That clean bed was ready for day lilies and daffodils to make their entrance. The weeds are gone. For now.

When we finished, there was tangible proof we had accomplished something.

That’s actually a chocolate smile…not dirt. Well, maybe some dirt mixed with chocolate.

When we kill the lies Satan puts in our hearts, we have accomplished the work of God.

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I pulled and piled. The kids carted those spindly green threats away in their little dump truck. Teamwork at its best. And I explained to my little souls that those weeds were like sin. When we let one sin, one bad decision, one wrong choice creep into our life, we are making room for another one to follow. And another.

And then the best part. I told them that all of that work we did to remove those weeds was done in the blink of an eye by God when we seek forgiveness. Our sins are removed immediately and permanently when we repent and accept Jesus’ gift of salvation. His gift of Life. His gift of Truth. His gift of Hope.

We will have to fight to keep the weeds from coming back in that plant bed. Some pre-emergent will help prepare the soil to kill them before they sprout. Like the preparation of our own souls with the watering of the Word.

Without Truth our souls aren’t prepared to kill sin before it sprouts.

With Truth we have Hope in the weeds.

Yes, it takes some work on our part. To keep weeds out of our plant beds and sin out of our heart. But the rewards are always greater than the cost.

An immortal King who knew no bounds, came to earth confined to flesh and an earthly king’s dominion. He endured sorrow, denial, hatred and torture for doing no wrong. Jesus poured out blood through sweat and His pierced side so that I would never have to. He died in my stead. For my sins that He knew none. He paid the fine for my sin-debt.

My reward in Him is worth any cost I pay while I’m on this earth.

There will be weeds in my yard. There will be sin in my heart. I will fight them until my fight here is over.

But I will fight harder to keep them away knowing the cost paid for their final removal. And then this…

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” (Rev. 21:14 ESV)

That’s a day worth waiting for. Worth fighting for. Worth living for.

Here’s to that day, friend. And until that day, may we fight the weeds of sin and lie that seek to kill us with the power of the only One that can destroy them. There is Hope in the weeds.

In Christ Alone,
Meredith

Five Minute Friday | {Crowd}

Posted on March 14, 2014 by Meredith Bernard under Daily Walk, Faith, Five Minute Friday

Linking up with the fabulous Lisa-Jo Baker and the “crowd” again this week for Five Minute Friday. Five minutes of pure, unadulterated, no-edit, get-it-out-there, real and raw writing. There is a pre-party every Thursday night at #fmfparty that is a blast…if you can stay awake. Which I never seem to be able to do. Enjoy. 😉

This week’s prompt is “CROWD”…Here we go.

BEGIN

Have you ever been that face in the crowd? The one that isn’t sure of it’s own existence, much less what it means in the midst of so many other faces?

I have. Been there. Recently.

I would have said I was secure. Secure enough in my own identity for it to not matter what the crowd said or thought or didn’t say or think. I’m a tough girl. I’m good in my own skin. Until the other night.

Really, this is ridiculous. I like people. I’m not an introvert. Really. Although there does seem to be much more freedom flowing from these fingertips, than from my timid soul when put in a crowd. Yeah, so my kids caught on to that, too.

They hovered close. Clinging to legs. Not letting go for fear the crowd might swallow them up.

It didn’t. Didn’t swallow them…or me. In fact, we found some new friends after we settled in for the night.

That’s what happens with fear, isn’t it?

Once we overcome fear, fear doesn’t overcome us.

There’s a message in there, somewhere. I don’t have time to unpack it today. Maybe another. I did talk about fear and grace here, though.

That’s five minutes and this is hard to not want to go back and revise and edit and make longer and stronger.

That’s the fear in me. If I put this out there without the edit and extra words I may miss some “likes” and “shares” and comments. That’s ok, though. I’m sticking with the crowd this time.

Graciously In Him,
Meredith

STOP

An aside…I’m so glad that no matter what crowd I’m in, no matter how small I feel at times, there is only One who determines my true worth. As a Daughter of the King, I’m considered Beloved and complete…in Him. In Christ Alone.

Woman to Woman: Killing with Kindness.

Posted on March 12, 2014 by Meredith Bernard under Daily Walk, Woman to Woman

We’ve all heard the saying and as a woman, we’ve all tried it before.
Killing with kindness.

That’s the way, right? The way to get back at someone that has been less than kind to you. It’s not wrong to be extra kind to someone that needs to see what kindness is really all about. Right?

So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. (Col. 3:12, MSG)

Well, that’s a dress that may not fit so well right now, a little too tight perhaps, so we are unpacking a little at a time. Today we will look at kindness. What does real kindness look like between women? It’s become so foreign a concept we tend to forget.

Paul says in Romans 12:9 (MSG) to “love from the center of who you are; don’t fake it.”

What? I can’t fake it? I can’t kill her with kindness since she has been so unkind to me?

Brother Paul says no. And that means God says…No.

Paul also says here to “love from the center of who you are.” That goes a little deep does it not? The center of who I am is not always a pretty site. It’s not always full of love and kindness.

What’s in the well comes up in the bucket.

And my well can get muddy if not all together dry at times.

My muddy soul can produce some dirty thoughts, words and deeds. To sow kindness means I’ve got to have some kindness in me to pull from. That means I’ve got some work to do. God’s got a work to do in me.

I’m not saying I’m a mean person. All the time. Or that we as women are mean. All the time. But if we are honest, REALLY honest, we will see some room for improvement in the kindness category.

Who are we kidding? Women can be the meanest creatures known to man. We don’t even have to verbalize it. It’s in the way we look. I mean stare. “I can’t believe she wore that to church? Does she own a mirror? What kind of mama did she have to let her think that was appropriate attire for Wal-Mart, much less church?” (insert gasp…and a smile, we always put on a smile when we think things like this. Or is that just me?)

Kindness isn’t just a lesson our teenage daughters need. Though they can be bad. Really bad. I know, I was one.

I was not the most popular girl. I didn’t have the name-brand clothes. I never had the “right” hair. I couldn’t keep up with what was the popular music or tv show…that week. They changed too much. And I knew what it felt like to be looked at “that way” that said I know you are different, but I won’t be mean to your face. Or maybe I will.

I’ve also been on the other side. I was never deliberately mean to another girl, but I was trying to find my place in the world, too, and if it meant not talking to you or avoiding you because you were a little different, I probably did. Ok, I did. I know I did it at times.

Back to what I said…kindness isn’t just something our teenage daughters need.
It’s something we as women need.

Who do they learn to be so mean from, anyway? Think about that a moment.
Who do they learn from?

Then there’s this. The fact that you don’t know what that other soul is bearing today. What enormous cross are they lugging up a one-way hill?

You don’t know that she wakes up to a man every morning that is living in darkness and that darkness is constantly groping for her own soul.

You don’t know that she has a parent that has become more needy than her own children.

You don’t know that she has a prodigal that has left home or left their faith or worse yet never had the faith she thought they had and she has no idea when or if they will ever return to her or to the God that she has tried her entire life to lead them to.

So yeah, there’s that. In the bitterness of our soul, we don’t see the other soul for what they’re facing.

So we say an unkind word. We think an unkind thought. We do an unkind deed. And none of those can be taken back.

A word spoken is a word eternal.

A thought etched in our mind is a thought eternal.

A deed done is a deed eternal.

A word penned is a word eternal.

A word expressed is a word eternal. Period.

It takes as much effort to say a kind word, do a kind deed, think a kind thought, as it does to do, think, or share one unkind.

Oh, that we as people, we as sisters, would start sharing more kindness than hate.

It’s not in our flesh, but it’s in our ability through the One who can and will clothe us with kindness if we let Him.

It’s time. For kindness to overcome hate and envy and greed and just. plain. meanness.

It’s time to be more. Our girls are watching and learning. Let’s do this. It’s time to be kind.

Graciously,
Meredith

It’s “Woman to Woman” Wednesday. Working on unity of the sisterhood here on Wednesdays one perfectly imperfect word at a time. If you would like to share your thoughts on todays post or add your own comments about how we can grow kindness as a sisterhood, we welcome your words below! Feel free to leave comments or add a link to your own blog post. Much thanks! (Excuse the little blue frog…though he is kind of cute, I would rather not have him on here, but can’t seem to make him go away. :O) Please has it out with us using #w2w when you share. 😀 You can view last week’s W2W here.

Wringing out what we pour in.

Posted on March 10, 2014 by Meredith Bernard under Daily Walk, Faith, Motherhood

This mama saw her moment of reprieve and she took it. All 120 seconds of it.

I sat down in my back yard on that one patch of new green grass that was dry enough not to soak through my already dirty britches and just soaked it in. I looked at my muddy two-sizes too big muck boots stuck out there like the boats my feet are and thought how great it was to just sit after all that digging and bending over. And how glad I was to see the sun. So much wet, so much snow, so much cold. And now to see and feel the sun again.

The sun. I hadn’t seen it in so long I almost forgot what it looked like. What it felt like. How warm and sweet that big ball of light felt on my tired face and closed eyes.

I was having a moment. A quiet, sun-soaked moment. And I wasn’t alone.

I felt His presence. I even whispered for Him to come. I knew it wouldn’t last long, but I knew it was special.

As the suns rays warmed my face, I sensed His Spirit speak to my soul. That bright light that I couldn’t open my eyes to see was like my God. So bright I could never look on Him and live, and in the same instance His light is what keeps me alive.

It was as if He was saying, “Soak me up, Meredith.”

Soak Him up.

I need to spend time soaking Him up if I ever hope to wring Him out.

I can only wring out what I’ve soaked up in the first place. That dirty dish rag I keep meaning to change and finally do when it actually starts to stink or feel slimy, is full of what it’s been soaking up. This week that’s been plates of mashed potatoes, gravy and old peas my three-year old says she “wants when she wants them” and when she doesn’t come back for them an hour later they get washed off with that rag. That rag that’s been soaking up all of the junk in my sink.

That’s my soul. Soaking up whatever I put in it. And that’s what gets rung out.

Junk in means junk out. Grace in means grace out.

In those short moments soaking up the sun I realized I needed to be soaking up more of the Son.

It was over as quick as it started. I heard a plea for mama…where did I go? They just needed to know where I was. There is that need, to just know where their mama is. That sense of security a child needs to feel secure in their own skin. Even in the place they call home and feel most comfortable. Always needing their mama or daddy’s presence to feel secure.

I’m the same way. I need to know my Father is with me, too. And today He reminded me.

He’s with me. Even if I don’t see Him or always feel Him. He’s here.

The Son is always shining, even if I don’t see Him.

I need to soak Him up whenever I can, so I’ll have Him to pour out on these littles. And their father. And all others I come in contact with.

God grant me the ability to soak up more of You than what this world is throwing down.

And let me remember You are always there for me to take in even when I don’t see you or feel you.

With arms open for your daughter. There’s graceful arms open for this muddy daughter’s muddy soul today.

And there are arms open for the muddy soul reading this. We could all stand to soak up a little Son today, couldn’t we?

Graciously,
Meredith

A Grace Hog.

Posted on March 8, 2014 by Meredith Bernard under Uncategorized

I feel like I need to make another confession. Yep. Another.

Remember the disclaimer I made when I first started this blog…about being perfectly imperfect? Well, just making sure you know that still applies. I still wear it like a little black dress…that I’ve never worn. Always wanted an occasion…anyway.

Yep, it still fits perfectly. To a “t”. Perfectly Imperfect. That’s me.

I feel like maybe some may get the impression since I’m now blogging and claiming wonderful truths…that are still and will always be true…maybe I have my act all together. Maybe my life is “perfect.” Maybe my marriage and my kids and family are just perfect.

Sorry to disappoint. Nope. Not perfect. I mess up. A lot. I get angry at my husband and say things I shouldn’t. I get angry with my kids and say things I shouldn’t. I get angry at myself…and say things I shouldn’t.

I should go delete my blog and Facebook page RIGHT now.

That’s what I told myself earlier after I got mad with my husband, said a short word and hung up the phone on him. Yeah, I did that. I was mad.

And maybe I should. Deleter this and my page where I try to encourage you everyday. And I’m sure the devil would be very happy if I did. So I won’t. Not yet.

Not until I am perfect and I have nothing left to say to anyone else who’s not perfect. Then I won’t be able to relate to you and you won’t be able to relate to me. There will be nothing left to say.

So for now, I’ll keep saying what I feel God is telling me to say or at least what I feel He’s saying to me.

And right now, He’s telling me to repent. Seek forgiveness from my man and from Him. And I will. And it won’t be easy. It never is. But it’s the right thing to do.

After a right decision there is always a right reward.

I’m sorry if I burst your bubble that I was really more than I am today. I’m not. I’m still a perfectly imperfect wife and mama just trying to make it through another day. I use more than my share of grace on most days. Most hours. Most minutes.

I’m a grace hog.

Really, I am. A pure-T grace hog. I don’t do it on purpose, it just happens because my life can be messy. And I have no one to blame but me for making it that way. And no one to thank for covering me in Grace but my Savior.

It is sweet relief to be able to take a deep breath, reflect and know you are covered in grace. I really don’t know how I’d make it another day without that reality in my life. If you’ve never experienced it, you are missing out. You are missing out on peace here and peace forevermore.

Your perfectly imperfect grace-hog,
Meredith