Denise Hildreth

The other week I wrote about my Sophie and how she begs to get up on the sofa with me. She loves it up there. Well, just a few days after that she decided to take a tour of the neighborhood without telling me. I mean she has gone to the neighbor’s yard on more than one occasion, but she always comes back as soon as I call her. I scold her and she does it yet again. But Tuesday a week ago I called and there was no Sophie. I walked up the alley in the freezing cold and no Sophie. I walked down the other end of the alley and still no Sophie. By now my pulse had quickened and my neighbor who lives directly behind me in the alley asked me what was up. By now I’m doing the ugly cry and headed to get my car.

She was headed to the bus stop to walk her little girl home and graciously put the word out that Sophie was missing. I climbed in my car and began riding through the neighborhood calling her name, crying as I’m driving. I finally pulled up to where the bus had just let off the kids and another neighbor and friend was walking her son home and she said they would get in their car as soon as they got  home and drive around too. They had just had to put their dog down the week before so their own wounds were very fresh.

So the search was on. Neighbor’s were in cars, walking back and forth down the alley and Sophie’s name was being called out all over. I finally parked and got back out on foot and that was when my friend and her little boy pulled up with Sophie in the car. She had taken a stroll all the way down the alley, across one of our main streets and been found by one of my neighbor’s sons and been reported to the clubhouse. So, they went and picked her up. The little toot!

I was so happy to see her that I didn’t even spank her this time. Usually if she goes to the neighbor’s and then comes back when I call her I swat her furry butt. (Not sure why because it sure didn’t prevent her from this excursion.) But this time I couldn’t spank her. In fact, I let her sleep with me. I was so glad to have the little ornery thing home that I let her sleep with me. I know, great parent I’ll make huh?

But I can’t help but remember that that is how my Father is. There are moments when I run off to my own whims and wishes and when he calls me and I come back he swats my butt .There are other times I can get lost farther, wooed in deeper, and before I know it even I’ve lost my way home. But he comes looking for me. And he calls out to me. And he will sometimes even send people into my path to speak to me. And when I turn my heart to him he grabs me and kisses me and holds me and puts me right at his feet. There is no brush off. There is no lecture. Sure there are consequences to my action. (Sophie was afraid to even go in the yard and pee for three days. Apparantly she too knew she was lost.) But even those can provide a hedge of protection for her future.

Often times we’re so afraid of the wrath of God that we think will await us if we turn our heart towards home, that we miss the fact that the love of God is longing for our heart to turn toward home. Sophie was so glad to see her mama. And her mama….well, her mama was so glad to see her. And I held her and kissed her and loved her and that is what our heavenly Father is longing to do with us. Don’t let your own shame cause you to miss how desperately He loves you. Because to hold onto your own shame and not receive His love is to say His cross wasn’t enough. And His cross was, is and always will be enough…

Sophie wants up on the sofa. She sits at my feet staring at me desperate for me to invite her to come hang out with me. Because she knows she’s not allowed up on the sofa unless she’s invited. Thus it begs the question how she can so quickly forget that she’s not supposed to poop in the house, eat the moss from the plant by the fireplace, or eat Maggie’s food, but I digress.

What captured me today though was when I let her up here she jumped clear across my study books and around the pillow to get over to me to give me some “stinky” Sophie love. Poor thing is like the little guy from Charlie Brown who lives with a perpetual dirt cloud around him. But it was her persistence that got me. She had already paced at my feet until I would recognize her. Then she sat and stared at me until I invited her up here and then she leaped over my books to get to me.

I’ve been that desperate before. Honestly, find that life keeps me in a perpetual place of persistent need of my Father. I demand him to recognize me, notice me, invite me, then love me. And do you know what I’ve found, he is more than desiring of that too. In fact, he has a thing for persistents, persistent widows, persistent friends, persistent prayers…kind of gravitates to it actually.

What I’ve noticed though in my own life is how quick I am to give up. When the answer doesn’t come quickly I get discouraged, move on, convinced he doesn’t love me enough to answer that anyway. Instead of persistently asking and trusting in the middle of my seeming lack of answers. Because I’ve discovered that often in my seasons of persistence that he is usually doing a much bigger work in me than what I am actually praying for. The “process” of my persisticence is producing something.

Do you remember the story of the friends who lowered their paralyzed friend through the roof. Do you know why they went to the roof? Because they weren’t going to be kept out. The door was blocked, the windows were blocked, the roof was grassed and mudded over, but none of it mattered, they were getting their friend to this healer. Do you know what moved Jesus’ heart for this man? The faith of his friends. The persistent faith of his friends.

Persistent faith moves God’s heart and it changes ours in the process. I have to believe that what He is most after is the posture of our heart during the season of our delayed request. Delays are never about God, his timing is always perfect. Delays are always about us and how persistent we are willing to be with our faith and our heart. Will we trust him in the middle of the delay? Because the reward is always the same…more time with him on the sofa…

Ever watched a nursing baby go after it’s mother? The flailing…the kicking…the grabbing…the desperation. I’ve seen mother’s before still breast feeding when the child could walk over and pull her shirt up itself…but that is for another day and another blog. Today I’m thinking about the baby place.

But there is another place. There is that weaned child place. The place of rest and peace. Where it can sit right beside it’s mother and never have to react in desperation for what it’s mother has. Because it knows that it will have whatever it needs. I’m been sitting in the passage in Psalms for over a week now. Psalms 131:2 ” But I have stilled and quieted my soul; like a weaned child with its mother, like a weaned child is my soul within me.”

Not always easy is it? Sometimes we’re far more like the flailing child. Desperate. Panicked. Searching. Scared. Life is uncertain. Jobs are scarce. Money is tight. Marriage is hanging by a thread. Children are wreaking havoc on your nerves. Depression tightens like a noose and we flail. We react in panic. As if we will get more if we do. As if the answers will come quicker or sound different.

Yet there is a place of rest for the soul…a quiet confidence in our sustenance provider that removes the need for flailing. That tells us we can rest in the fact that He will supply all of our needs. Not one thing that we have need of will He not supply. Whether it is direction, provision, or simply peace in the fact that things are still unanswered. And in the middle of it all can be an inexpressible joy. Children know joy. It is innate in a child to enjoy. Life and age are what damper the delight. But should it. Should everything that we experienced as children still be available? I would think it would have to be or Christ wouldn’t have said, “Unless you come to me as little children.”

There is something to be learned from a child. Watch one this week. If you don’t have one, borrow one. But may we take a lesson at the rested head on the chest, the delightful cackles and the peaceful sleep. And may our soul ask, “Lord…teach me once again what it is to lay my head on your chest and simply rest. Knowing that you have everything that I need…” You may be surprised at what you discover.

How often do you go out to eat?
A couple times a week- I like my own cooking…actually. I mean, I do cook fried chicken y’all.

How often do you tell someone you love them (friend or family)?
Anytime I’m with them.

How often do you curse in traffic?
I’m a Christian I don’t cuss:) No comment from anyone!

How often do you need the ATM?
I love that little magic cash thingy! What? That’s my money coming out of there!

How often do you wish for something?
Every day…

How often do you laugh so hard it hurts?
As often as possible…

How often do you cry?
When I’m not laughing. I’m a girl – give me a break…

How often do you say no so you can watch tv?
I have a DVR…

How often do close facebook to avoid someone on chat?
I don’t chat.

How often do you grocery shop?
On an as needed basis.

How often are you late for something?
I’m rarely late. But that could explain the three speeding tickets I got last year. But I wasn’t late!

How often do you miss someone?
I miss my mama all the time.

How often do you do something on a whim?
Part of my new journey is learning how to be whimmish! Getting much better at it. One of my whims gave me the idea for my new fiction book. So, I’ve found they can be a good thing.

How often do you change the radio stations?
As much as needed to find the song I like.

How often do you upgrade anything?
I’m not a real upgrader because I’m pretty frugal. But, I have upgraded my iPHone now everytime a new one has come out. My last iPhone I sold to our bus driver in Israel. Should I be saying that on here?

How often do you spend time alone?

Not as much as I used to…

Nashville is a winter wonderland. Well, okay, it was a winter wonderland yesterday. Today the sun is coming

Outside my front door

out and by afternoon I’m sure the winter wonderland will look a little more like dirty slush pond. But for a day everything was covered. And no remnant of the death that winter seems to offer could be seen.

When I was looking out my front door yesterday at the beauty of it all, I thought, “Where did all my scraggly plants go?” Even though it is all still there it was so beautifully covered and hidden. God is like that you know…Our junk is still there. But God so beautifully covers it all up with a reflection of himself. Snow has an amazing ability to reflect light. Did you know you can get a suntan from snow! Just saying…yes, I do know these things. And that is what God does with our lives. All of our flesh, our sin, our dysfunction, our fears, our anxieties…they are all still there. But heaven comes in and covers them with Himself.

It is there that we begin to gain his reflection. To become a reflection of Him. It is there that His spirit begins to saturate our flesh and our flesh becomes less and less visible and He becomes more and more seen. I still see my flesh way too much. I see it in my anger, in my fears, in my pride, in my doubts. I see it and wonder how all of that can still be in there. But in a moment God gives me a glimpse of Himself. Of realizing that His grace is sufficient.

It is always snowing somewhere. If not here…(and trust me it usually isn’t here- but somewhere in Alaska it is always snowing and Sarah Palin can see it from her back yard:) And it is snowing in people’s lives too. Covering their sin. Wiping over their shame. Bringing them a different reflection. And revealing that God is so loving and kind and faithful to wipe off the old and write the new.

My sweet friend Stephanie Boosahda wrote a song about this called “Somewhere it’s snowing.” I used to sing it years ago and didn’t realize that she wrote and recorded it until she sang it our VBS this past summer. But it is. Do you need it? Need a little bit of Him to cover up a lot of you? I do everyday. Some days I feel like the dirty slush I’ll drive through today. Other days I feel clean and covered. But I hope we never forget that when He comes in who we are is covered…completely covered.

I’ve bit off more than I can chew. Which wouldn’t be so bad if I wasn’t teaching a Bible Study on “hearing” God. But when I planned my Winter/Spring schedule, I’m not sure how much I considered His opinion, if I’m simply being honest. And then I go into frantic, overwhelmed, slightly break-down, full blown tears mode and drink more Cokes than I should. And I just this weekend discovered that I can no longer drink Cokes past ten, which just gave me a whole new set of issues to be concerned about.

But what is it in us that doesn’t realize we can really take everything to God? I’m reading John Eldredge’s Walking with God for the second time and I’m reminded how we really can take anything to our Father. Even our schedule. And sometimes in His mercy He will give us forced rest. Not that we see it as mercy. We see it as a huge disruption to our schedule. But He does have a way of “making” us rest. “He makes” me lie down in green pastures.

Two years ago after substituting a class of fifth graders I ended up in the ER with two bags of IV fluids. (Have you ever wondered if you could drown from too much IV? I know, crazy, but I’m not that big and when I watched all of that liquid going into my body, it made me wonder where in the world I was going to put that- but that has absolutely nothing to do with this post.) But after I got out of the hospital I was still almost 10 days in the bed. Did you hear that! 10 days in the bed! I rarely know how to stay in the bed past six am. And yet, somewhere around the fourth day, after I had bemoaned until I was even tired of myself, I realized, “maybe this is exactly what I need.” And I settled in to simply enjoying my Father and rest.

I realize now as I look at the demands on my schedule that there is a reason God often “makes” us rest. Because we are so pitiful at doing it ourselves. Even our Sabbath’s have turned into another work day. (Please know all fingers are pointing at me.) So, I’m confessing. Mostly so that I can have a clear conscience to start my week, but also as a reminder to myself, that if I am willing to ask God what He desires to be on my schedule, that I’m pretty certain He’ll answer. My time really is nothing but a gift from Him to steward well, and oh how often I have managed it so poorly.

So, may we ask Him. May we be willing to say no, even to some thing we love if necessary. But more importantly may we be willing to listen. Because He always has an answer…

Beginning tonight at the Westhaven Clubhouse from 6-8 Shari Lacy and I will start a Writer’s Workshop. We’ve decided to title it “Writing a Piece NOT just Your Mother Would Love.” Since we all know our mama’s love everything we write. Well, not necessarily mine. When I killed off one of my character’s in The Will of Wisteria, she called to tell me how glad she was she had read it before it went to print, so I could edit that part of the story line.

I love her, but my story stayed the same. But so many of us have this secret desire to write a story. And some of us it’s not so secret:) So, me and my friend Shari Lacy, who is an amazing writer and publicist, decided to combine our talents, and our friends and bring together some of the best Editors- Agents- and Writers in the business for a 7 week interactive course on writing.

We will discuss everything from blogging to magazine article writing, to non-fiction and fiction- to how to get your book in the hands of an agent. We know what it is to have someone believe in us and we thought we’d take some time to help others in the adventure of telling their stories.

We start tonight at 6 pm with the Editor of Southern Expostures Magazine. The cost for the entire course is 110.00. If you are interested in being a part of this with us, please email shari@goodstuffpr.com. We’d love to see you there!

I’ve always said I’m not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I think I’m going to quit professing that over myself because it seems to be coming true more often. I think I’m going to start saying “my word girl, you’re smart!” But, it took me a while to really understand what the message was for our new Bible Study semester that begins this Wednesday.

Now, I’m certain if you knew the title was “He Who Has Ears to Hear Let Him Hear.” You would think it was pretty clear. But it wasn’t until the other day that the message for me was so evident. That this is a year God wants me to “listen”. And I realized that was the real message in this new study.

I’ve always said, “God is always speaking.” Yet, I run into my other thought that tells me, “There are some times when God is silent.” And those seasons often cause us to press into Him, because we become desperate to hear Him. But maybe both can co-exist. Because I believe often God’s loudest words can be His silence. The question is what is our heart really hearing?

So many times we default to the mentality that He has left us, abandoned us, believe it proves the belief that He didn’t really care about us anyway. But what if His silence was His effort to woo us. To invite us into His story. We love creating our story and then begging Him to figure out how to get into the middle of it. But so seldom do we press in asking Him what is He writing and how can we get in the middle of it.

The message for me this season of my life is to be a better listener. Really hear people. Their hearts, their stories, what their really saying. Not simply listen with ears that have already predetermined my answers. But listening to others while I’m listening to my father. Asking Him, “Lord, what would  you have me say to her to him? What is your heart for them? Not what is my opinion.”

So often our responses come manufactured and seemingly laced with our prejudices because they are formulated by only our experiences. But really listening can take our experiences and allow them to be shaped by our Father’s love and wisdom and discernment and then give the response He would desire. Every heart longs to be heard…truly heard. Every person longs to be seen…truly seen. And very often we see people the most when we listen. Are you? Are you listening?

Well, I got unpacked. Presents are put away and preparing to entertain some friends tonight to welcome in the New Year over some fried chicken. (It’s really about the fried chicken.) And I’m about to do what I do every year at this time…I’m about to remember. There are a lot of things in life we are told to forget. But I’ve learned that remembering can be your friend. And on December 31st of each year, when I sit down and read my last devotion for that year I spend time remembering. Remembering all of the amazing and beautiful things God has done in the life of my friends, my family and myself.

This year I’ll remember the baby he gave my precious friends who have struggled with the inability to have a child of their own for years, the disappointment they endured earlier in the year over a failed adoption, and the miracle of the little girl that now rests as their own under their roof.

This year I’ll remember how God faithfully provided for some family members who have spent the last year without a regular job, but who have never missed a bill and have seen God provide supernaturally.

This year I’ll remember how God has beautifully directed the heart of another friend in her desire for ministry. How He has settled her soul quietly before Him and she is resting in the peace that His plan is good and His timing is perfect.

This year I’ll remember my friends who discovered new love and had places in their hearts come alive and are now building new families and homes and experiencing the beautiful gift God gives in companionship.

This year I’ll remember my friends who have suffered some of life’s deepest losses and come through it more compassionate, more alive and their “ears pierced by their Father”, able to hear Him in ways they’ve never heard Him before.

This year I’ll remember how God allowed something I’ve dreamed of for over ten years be brought to fruition. Something I tried so hard to accomplish on my own, but it was my pain, that He chose to redeem to allow it to happen.

This year I’ll remember how wonderful it was to get back into regular ministry and The Whole Woman Revolution was launched and the first VBS in Franklin began and I discovered ministry in a way I’ve never known.

Remembering can be sweet…Remembering can give us a moment to remind ourselves that God has been extremely present and extravagantly kind. Before you put on your party hat, take out your sparklers and belt out your version of Auld Lang Syne, take a moment to remember all that our Father has done. It will be the perfect way to end your year…I promise.

There are a few moments in life when you get the privilege to see what love truly looks like. For the past year I have had the honor to sit each Tuesday afternoon with one of the most amazing men I’ve honestly ever met, named Doctor Lemmons. I had spent some time praying a little over year ago that God would bring some mentors into my life who could help me go to the next level of what God had for me. And one of those gifts came in the form of one of the sweetest men I know, Albert Lemmons.
We met over a dinner of ham, potato casserole and biscuits. (I’m willing to meet anyone over a dinner like that.) At the close of the evening I knew this was a man who had so much inside of him, and such a deep love for the Lord and knowledge of His word and I wanted it. I asked him if I could begin to meet with him weekly. I don’t think he thought I’d really show. But for the last fifty-two weeks I’ve only missed when I’ve had to.
The beauty of Dr. Lemmons is that he comes with Miss Patsy. Lord have mercy I’ve fallen in love with that woman. Every time I walk in their door she’s cooking something that smells so good. She’ll send me home with cucumbers, tomatoes, watermelon, you name it. If she’s got it in her garden she’ll share it with me. And on Wednesday of last week Miss Patsy went into the hospital for quadruple by-pass.
Late that evening I got to sneak in to see her with Dr. Lemmons. And what I saw was one of the sweetest things I’ve ever seen. It was a conversation that didn’t need words, though it had some. He assured her she had come through the surgery okay. She wanted him to go home and get rest. But it wasn’t the words that impacted me. It was the “knowing.” It was the unspoken part that runs between familiar hearts of fifty-five years. It’s what words don’t need. And it was that “knowing” that produces, familiarity, comradery, appreciation and an intense, inexpressible love.
I’ve learned the deepest type of love can’t be expressed through words. They’re completely inadequate for fifty-five years of life together. They’re more known through a touch, through a look, through a smile, through simply being present. And I got to observe it in its purest, finest form. As Dr. Lemmons leaned over his bride and her eyes opened to take him in they didn’t need words. And I knew in that moment that is what every heart truly craves…to be known in such a way that no words are needed.
As we walked down the corridor of the ICU ward I wrapped my arm around him and said, “That’s your girl in there isn’t it?”
He said, “You bet it is.”
And we didn’t say anything else until we hugged goodbye.
There are moments that you get to be a part of that in this life, that if you blink, you’ll miss them you may never get them back. And that moment was one of them. Kind of like the way I won’t forget this picture that I took of these two older lovers laying in the middle of the old city in Jerusalem taking in each other as if no one else in the world existed. I captured it on camera and it may be one of my favorite pictures from my entire trip.

But the thing I know is this. I am known. I am known this intimately. I am known by my thoughts, by my raised right eyebrow, by my tears, by my laughter, by my smile…I am known in the deepest places of my soul. Always have been actually, and it didn’t take marriage to make that happen. You are too you know. You are deeply and completely known. Often we crave something we think we are missing, but often times if we look hard enough we will realize we’re missing nothing at all. Because for every need we have, every title we crave, every secret dream we ponder, there is someone who knows it, hears it and sees it…you are known. Go into this Christmas season remembering that the one that knows you came to earth to find you…His name is Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Prince of Peace, Everlasting Father, Bright and Morning Star and He knows you….He knows YOU.