The Holy Grail of How to Pray

The Holy Grail of How to Pray

"The souls learns to pray by praying..."
She asks for an apple before bed. It's thundering and I know she's scared, looking for a reason to stay in the kitchen…

The Holy Grail of How to Pray
Chasing Away {Single} Mommy Blues

Chasing Away {Single} Mommy Blues

She doesn't say it, but look closely you will see it in the bend of her back. Her eyes are pools of strength; her smile liquid love. Seeping, seeping straight…

Chasing Away {Single} Mommy Blues
When a Man Loves a Woman

When a Man Loves a Woman

When I tell him, I've been missing the good stuff between us He frowns some. But I knew it would get his attention.

He's reading on the couch--school papers all scattered.…

When a Man Loves a Woman
When You Need to Laugh

When You Need to Laugh {I Have the Book for Y…

Friends don't always start with a face.

Sometimes they are words that reach far into our soul. Anonymous wisdom that gives our slumped spirit a kick into action. And I can attest that this…

When You Need to Laugh {I Have the Book for Y…
Giving Grace {Always a Gift Worth Counting}

Giving Grace {Always a Gift Worth Counting}

After dinner she grabs her joy journal and stretches out on the living room floor. I watch her from the kitchen. Her ponytail hangs over the left shoulder and her legs spread wide…

Giving Grace {Always a Gift Worth Counting}
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The Holy Grail of How to Pray

by Tamika Eason on May 10, 2012

“The souls learns to pray by praying…”

She asks for an apple before bed. It’s thundering and I know she’s scared, looking for a reason to stay in the kitchen a few minutes more. I don’t complain or shoo her off–I cut an apple. It only takes a few bites for her to ask the biting question: Are you scared Mom?

Oh, yes child. Afraid that I’ll cut the flesh of your innocence with my tongue.

Afraid that my bruised skin will one day be yours.

Afraid that I’ll miss the tender meat of grace right beneath the skin of trouble.  I raise an eyebrow, “we’re all a little afraid.”

 This night our fear pushes us into His presence. And yes, fear will find you praying. And prayer builds a faith–brick upon brick.

I wonder if, here on this blog,  we can learn to see through the fog of fear together. On Fridays– fix our eyes on what we cannot see. See with shut lids the Savior lingering near. So faith will find a home here–in hearts that pray.

Our soul will learn to speak: With groanings, becoming a fertile ground of faith. His Spirit weeding out the sin so we can have God’s good will for our lives.

Then we can believe that a heavy heart is a sign of Him calling us close:

Help me to honour thee by believing before I feel, for great is the sin if I make feeling a cause of faith.”

I’m convinced that I do not struggle in this alone. That faith is the grail that we must learn to read life right. And when I see nothing-something great will soon appear because God loves creating from scratch.

“Help me to pray in faith and so find thy will, by leaning hard on thy rich free mercy…Teach me to believe that all degrees of mercy arise from several degrees of prayer, that when faith is begun it is imperfect and must grow, as chapped ground opens wider and wider until rain comes.”

I want Christ to drench us in the wastefulness of grace. That we will open wide for His waters. That His good pleasure will be to give us more of Himself through our petitions. Won’t this make the world less frightening, a faith that’s sure. Our Holy Grail to Heaven.

Excerpts of this prayer: The Divine Will {Valley of Vision}

 What are you afraid of? I want to pray for you. I sincerely believe that this blog is for the building up of the broken and I want to see Christ center stage in your life! Leave me a comment and I will join you in seeking His face.

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Chasing Away {Single} Mommy Blues

by Tamika Eason on May 9, 2012

She doesn’t say it, but look closely you will see it in the bend of her back. Her eyes are pools of strength; her smile liquid love. Seeping, seeping straight through.  The daily struggle is her soothing the symphony of cries–hovering with wing arms of comfort.

But somewhere in the night she clutches the covers and heaves out her own heavy burden. Who knows how long she will sit there racked with fatigue, sucking down failure–falling into the well of her wants.

Her prefix is Miss.

Miss Alone. Miss Lonely. Miss Mother & Father. Miss Single Parent.

Miss prays with each labored breath to pay her bills. Miss grips the refrigerator door aching for more mercy. Miss can count the exact number of times the light switch flickered on with more lavish grace. Miss never stops noticing the needs of her children. Never.

Her Miss may stand for single mother, but Christ is writing a beautiful testimony through her struggles. Sealing her tomorrow through her tears. I know because I was a Miss. My mother was a Miss. My sister, my sister-in-law are Miss today and there are many more like them.

And Christ has a gift for the Misses this Mother’s Day. And I don’t want the Misses to miss out. The Grace giver gives good gifts. His Word is ripe with reasons that His children are never short of hope for their hurt.

And isn’t it the hurt that ends up helping after all. Helps us see where we are walking in our own strength and not His. In the end–coming to the end of ourselves helps us lay hold to the Helper.  And we cry Christ come to the rescue! In which He replies:

“I will not in any way fail you, nor give you up, nor leave you without support. I will not. I will not. I will not in any degree leave you helpless, nor forsake you, nor let you down or relax my hold on you! Assuredly not!”  (Ps 33:20, Ps 25:3, Heb 13:5)

 And suddenly He chases our storm clouds clear out the sky…

Do you know someone–some single mother standing behind the bars of unbelief. Broken by past mistakes just trying to make it? I hope you’ll share this message with them!

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When a Man Loves a Woman

by Tamika Eason on May 2, 2012

When I tell him, I’ve been missing the good stuff between us He frowns some. But I knew it would get his attention.

He’s reading on the couch–school papers all scattered. There’s a test tomorrow. I shouldn’t bother him, but the river of release won’t still. I’m rippling with relief. So I tell him I’m reading the Song of Solomon. Seeing lovely things. His eyes twinkle and he sits up straighter.

I want to blush, but I keep my voice steady, sure. This is one of those things that I’d rather talk about in the dark under a thick comforter. The oneness; our connection. The many cold nights.

Be, brave.

Could we have this kind of intimacy–this Christ oneness with one another?Eden ecstasy? Can the wife serve up more than dinner plates and warm baths?

In his arms I can bleed the heart of hurry. His love can balance all the loads–and comfort, heal.

Words come like cool water to the throat. And it is a start. A sip of holy matrimony. A caveat of intimacy. I am in the kitchen chopping pearl onions and smiling into the sink. I believe I can–make our bed holy and blend bodies into sacred oneness without hesitation.

He goes back to studying. And I study him–the way he waited for me to see on my own. To surrender to God’s Word and I appreciate all the patience and practice of him loving me secretly longing.

Because all of his waiting brought me back to him. We have beauty from ashes–God grace to build our bed again…

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When You Need to Laugh {I Have the Book for You}

April 24, 2012

Friends don’t always start with a face. Sometimes they are words that reach far into our soul. Anonymous wisdom that gives our slumped spirit a kick into action. And I can attest that this dear sister has awakened my joy with her ministry. Finding her among the millions of bloggers is a gift from above. Because true friendship [...]

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Giving Grace {Always a Gift Worth Counting}

April 17, 2012

After dinner she grabs her joy journal and stretches out on the living room floor. I watch her from the kitchen. Her ponytail hangs over the left shoulder and her legs spread wide apart. “Counting gifts?” I call this from the sink. “No. Not even close.” She keeps her head bowed to the paper. Her pen is moving [...]

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Rocks…And A Reason to Keep Reaching

April 10, 2012

He brings a rock home. A broken boulder of stone with a gaping mouth stuffed with crystals. When she sees it, her eyes bulge happy. Small fingers stretch across the stone and a smile breaks on her face. She has so many questions: Where did you find it daddy? How many more are there? We noticed [...]

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The Crucified Life {A Legacy of Thanks}

April 9, 2012

My skin is pebbled with goosebumps when I see her message. She knows I’m counting too. Coming to the threshold with thanks. The gifts are all running together and I can hardly catch grace fast enough. My pen races and I wonder will I even be able to read my own words. Ann is now numbered. [...]

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