Okay, y’all. This is funny. I was sitting on the front porch thinking it might be fun to connect with you through a video {crazy to call such awkwardness “fun”}, but just as I took a deep breath of bravery and pressed record, a big ol’ landscape truck pulled in the driveway. Thank God for the warriors who’ve come to slay our Jack and the Beanstalk-sized weeds, but I wasn’t about to let them see me talking to myself! Because that’s what it looks like when you do these videos. The only ones who get to watch me “live” are Aslan and the chickens!
As silly and seemingly uninspiring as this short little snippet feels to me, I think it’s worth sharing because of what it represents: a baby step of bravery. Just pressing record at all felt brave today. It doesn’t matter if I didn’t say much…or if what I have to say on any given day makes a big impact. Sometimes the bravest thing is just showing up.
{Email subscribers: visit the blog to see the video.}
Remember my first video? I didn’t start out feeling brave that day, but one of you taught me how important and life giving baby steps of bravery can be. One of YOU inspired that act of bravery in me. One person’s baby step of bravery {delivering flowers to my door during a hard time} launched me into my own baby step of bravery {recording a video when I couldn’t find the words to write}. Who knew that bravery is contagious?
Never underestimate the power of a baby step of bravery. Not only because your baby step may inspire someone else, but because someday, all of those baby steps will add up inside of you …until one day, BRAVE isn’t just something you do, BRAVE IS WHO YOU ARE!
Actually, BRAVE is who you are TODAY. I know you may not see in yourself right now. I know you may not feel brave in this moment. That’s why we need others to call it out in us. We need someone to call out what we can’t see in ourselves. I want to be that person for you today: the one who calls you BRAVE. The one who calls out what God sees in you…what He’s placed inside of you. He called me brave when I didn’t feel like it. That’s what He does. Because He sees you as you really are. Now you get to decide if you want to believe what He sees!
Maybe today, your baby step of bravery is just daring to believe that God calls you BRAVE. Don’t look for evidence in your past or ways to prove it in the future. Just see what happens when you choose to agree with what God sees in you in this present moment!
Celebrating baby steps of bravery with you today,
P.S. Speaking of baby steps, I’m learning to walk again! After six weeks of broken ankle blues, I finally got to start physical therapy. It’s painful, but good. My youngest says I look like a granny the way I hobble awkwardly {feels like I have a peg leg!}, but I’ll take it. And besides, I adored my Granny, so I’m just just going to receive her funny granny comments as a high compliment! Anything is better than being on that couch. I may never sit in that spot again! Thankful for porch sitting weather this week…and a way to hobble out and enjoy it!
Suzanne -Linsey- so happy to hear that you are on your way to recovery and walking again! I will be praying for you and want to thank you for being such an inspiration! Blessings! SuzanneReplyCancel
Dianne -So happy you made it to the porch alone. So disappointed you could not film an entire convo. I love your videos. Please try again soon. hugs!ReplyCancel
Inga -Glad to hear you are back on your feet! Take it easy now!
You look and sound great in the video, no worries!ReplyCancel
Angela -Linsey, you are just too cute! I’m hoping to have a little more time to read your blog now that the school year is about to start! It’s hard to enjoy your beautiful photos and words when two young boys are fighting in the next room! I met a Sheltie last week that looked so much like your Aslan. She was such a sweet dog that it almost made me want think about adding one to our family one day. That is, when I could tolerate the dog hair!ReplyCancel
Jessi -I could feel Spirit’s presence even in your short video :). Your words and your videos are delightful and a big encouragement.ReplyCancel
I’ve always been sentimental and nostalgic, but it’s been while since I’ve felt this emotional on a first day of school. I’m talking tears, y’all! And it’s not like I’m doing this for the first or last time! I checked over a few other first day posts {2012, 2013, 2014…wow they’ve grown!} just to see if this year is any different.
In some ways, this year is like any other. I’m never ready for summer to end and the school schedule to begin. I love our school, but I always feel a sense of loss when a new year starts. Sometimes I feel bad saying that, because I know there are mamas who can’t wait for this day. I have close friends who feel that way, and I honor their feelings. But I’ve always been a different bird. So what feels like freedom to a whole lot of mamas, feels like loss for me. And I’m okay with it. There’s room for all of us to have very different feelings about the very same thing.
Aslan might be sadder than I am today. He misses his playmates.
So why the tears? Maybe because I have a high schooler and know how quickly these last four years at home will pass. It feels like just yesterday that I was the one starting high school! I was quaking in my ballet flats because I was entering a whole new world of intense academics, all new faces, and an unusual amount of wealth and privilege. I felt like a fish out of water on all fronts. {And then did something only a mom would think is cute: cut my hair crazy short and wore brown lipstick! Girls said they liked it…only to tell me how awful it was years later. Let’s just say…not a great start for a new girl.} I’m pretty sure my daughter’s first day of high school will be better than mine! She’s going in strong with long hair {ha!}, kind friends, rock solid faith and a school that helps her to flourish in her gifts.
So is it 7th grade that makes me cry? We all know 7th grade is a hard one, even at the best of schools. But no, I’m not crying over it, and neither is she. Because the truth is, my 7th grade girl is absolutely equipped to thrive this year. She’s every bit as sparkly and shiny as she’s ever been, and even on her moody days, I can see that she knows who and whose she is. She’s a radiant daughter of the King, and there is no one else like her.
Here’s a significant factor that’s all new to me: for the first time in a month, I’m on my own with this broken ankle. My sweet girls have made me breakfast, lunch and lattes every single day for the last month without complaint. Not to mention all the extra farm and house work they did while I was on the couch. For them, school must feel like freedom! They deserve it!
I couldn’t have survived the last month without my sweet girls. I still can’t walk, but I’ve got this geriatric looking knee scooter to help me get around. The basket is a huge perk! Not quite as exciting as the big basket I had on my banana seat Schwinn in the early 80’s, but it allows me to take a few things along with me as I move about the house.
Also, thanks to the scooter, I’m off the couch for the first time in weeks. And friends, let me tell you, four weeks on the couch is not as enjoyable as it sounds. All that lying around feels too close to the days of depression, and hello…when all you do is eat and lie on the couch, your clothes start telling you it’s time to move! {You know it’s bad when your undergarments don’t fit!} And while learning to walk again feels painful and scary, I’ll do it if it means getting off the couch! {What I thought would be an 8-week recovery is more like 4 months. I had no idea. But good news: I can start physical therapy in two weeks!}
This post wouldn’t be complete without my first day of school picture:
Now I’m laughing! My youngest snuck this shot early this morning. I’m wearing the Jackopierce tshirt I’ve had since college…with my geriatric knee walker in one hand and crutches in the other. I hardly know what else to say. At least I put shorts on? {I’m still wearing this as I type.}
So now that I’m laughing instead of crying, I can stop writing and let you get on with your day! I hope it’s a good one. And if it’s not, I hope you’ll find someone to be with, to talk to, to make you laugh or to let you cry.
P.S. I think I’m going to pick up my phone and call a mama who just moved here two weeks ago. Her kiddos started school with mine today. I’ll never forget that new girl feeling. If you hear of someone who’s brand new at your school this fall, try reaching out with a phone call or email. Even if she’s an introverted homebody or too overwhelmed to commit to social things right now, she’ll appreciate being seen and noticed.
Kelly -Hey there. I find it so interesting that 99.9% of the things that you write is so spot on with the way my life is. I remember a couple posts ago how you wrote something about how hard it is to fully love something to possibly have it walkaway. And then today you write about crying when your kiddos go back to school. OMG that is so me every year since kindergarten I sob. I think part of it is because all I ever dreamed about was having babies and now here I am and one is in seventh grade and one is a sophomore. And I don’t like the fact that they’re getting older and I’m getting older. Yikes!
Anyway I just want to let you know how much I appreciate your honesty and your posts. God truly has given you a gift on how to touch other people’s lives!
Maybe one day I can come to one of your classes at the farm. I moved here from Fairview Texas about a month and a half ago and I’m in Franklin now (ivan creek off peytonsville rd)
Take care Braveheart of beauty!
KellyReplyCancel
Gigi -Thank you, Linsey, for your real heart and for how you point me to Jesus. I am so sorry this injury has been so debilitating! You are brave and beautiful! Your girls are lights! Much love!ReplyCancel
Jennifer-I’m with you Linsey. The first day of school is an emotional one. My daughter just entered into the 3rd grade. It’s always hard to let her go from our loving embrace into the arms of another, even if it is only for 6 hours. We always look forward to 2:05pm each day when she can come back to us. I’m amazed at how similar our hearts are. I lack your incredible faith but am looking forward to the day I catch up to yours. Thanks for always reminding me to look towards God, to talk to Him often, and pray. I need that in my life. Have a blessed day.ReplyCancel
tara -loved reading this post.
i cried ugly cries for days after my kids went back to school.
who knows what made this year harder than others…i think, like you, i realize how FAST it’s going by. Luke is in 10th, Seth is in 7th, and Lydia is in 3rd. It’s going by too fast!!
i haven’t read blogs in forever, and i’m so glad i came back to yours….gonna spend a few minutes catching up.ReplyCancel
Hello Bravehearted Beauties! I don’t know who’s here with me today, but I’d like to say a special hello to the ones who responded to my last post. You made raw and vulnerable feel so much less lonely. Thank you. Sometimes I don’t know why I write the things I do. Or why I publish them. Sometimes I want to take them back and just leave all this vulnerability and truth telling to the professionals! To the ones with a real following…the ones who make a real difference. And then I hear from one of you, and I’m reminded all over again that weare the ones who make a difference. You, Bravehearted Beauties, are the ones who make a difference. Your words, your hearts, your stories, your life. All of it matters.
Today, I hear a new whisper in my heart: nothing is wasted.
I don’t know what the whispers mean when I first hear them. But when the words come with a promise that’s more than what my eyes see and my flesh feels, I know it’s from the heart of God. And when the whisper won’t go away, I sit down to write, on the computer or in my journal, just to see if God has more to say. {I’ve learned that apart from reading His word, I hear best when I write and speak.} So, Bravehearted Beauties, as I sit down to write today, like most days, I have no idea where the writing will take us. But we’ll find out together. And hopefully, there will be a gift in it for both of us! And if the words aren’t speaking to you today, I’m trusting the beauty will!
God can use the craziest things to speak to our hearts. Today, it was a New York Times video about the importance of wild bees. They’re the primary pollinators in our food system and need a food source of their own to do their God-given job. {Not that the NYT calls it that.} I didn’t expect to read The New York Times today, butI saw the link on a high school friend’s Facebook feed, and the photo caught my attention because it looked just like one I’ve taken here on my farm!
So I clicked on the link and watched the video. And thats when I heard the whisper: nothing is wasted.
You see, something only God knew, was how I’ve been feeling about wasting my first lavender harvest. After all my dreams of wanting to grow lavender and finally making it happen, I didn’t harvest a single spring. The plants I nourished last summer and protected during a harsh winter produced the most beautiful buds, and I left them hanging. I can’t even use the broken ankle as an excuse. They were ready for harvest in June.
I was feeling guilt, shame, frustration and maybe even some hidden contempt toward myself over lavender. That may sound silly, but the enemy will capitalize on anything to make us feel less than who we really are. He’ll take what’s meant for delight and enjoyment and twist it into contempt, resentment, shame and guilt.
Because my goal was to harvest the lavender and dry it before the buds began flowering, every day that I saw more flowers made me feel like more of a failure. Until finally, the lavender was beyond harvest, and beyond usefulness in the ways I hoped to use it. As the unharvested lavender lingered, the lies grew louder.
The lies seem harmless at first. I’m a crappy gardener. Who cares? It’s fine if I stink at gardening. But as soon as you agree with one lie, there are dozens of others waiting to take you down further into the pit. I’m wasteful. I’m lazy. I’m not good at this farm life. In fact, I’m not good at anything. Can you feel the slide?The lies keep coming, and so often we keep agreeing without even knowing it. Until we get to the bottom and believe the worst about ourselves. I’m not good enough. I’m worthless. I’m not lovable. Even something as innocuous as a garden blunder can take you down that slippery slope. And until we choose to believe the truth about who we are, the lies keep us buried in places we were never meant to live.
{This is where I generally pause in my writing and have a little talk with the Lord. I have no idea where I’m going with this, Lord. Is this what You really had in mind when I sat down to write? What does this have to do with your whisper that nothing is wasted? I ask all of this knowing I have the freedom to delete everything I’ve written. But if nothing is wasted, I’m going to trust that all of these words are exactly what someone’s heart needs. I give you my words, Lord.}
Back to the lavender. As it began to flower, the bees and the butterflies began to feast. What felt like a failure to me became provision for them. Sure, I wanted to gather the buds into beautiful bundles and dry them for bath salts, cocktails, homemade Herbes des Provence, and other dreamy things. But nothing is wasted. My failure became their needed feast. It became the fuel for them to do what God designed them to do! I wonder how many of our supposed failures in life are the fuel for what God created us to do?
Of all things, God used this New York Times video to whisper these things to my heart today. And not just in relation to lavender and bees, but everything that we’re tempted to deem wasted, failed, pointless or profitless.
Nothing is wasted.
P.S. Here’s a song for you: Nothing Is Wasted by Jason Gray. {Talk about beauty out of brokenness. He struggles with a stutter when he speaks, yet sings without a hitch!} May these words be like honey to your heart today!
katrina -I so relate!! Was thinking about your pony. If you think you would like a pasture mate for her there is an animal rescue in TN that just went to MS to rescue many animals that were in an awful setting. Among the animals were several donkeys! i thought of you ! one would be precious on your farm.ReplyCancel
Sherry -Beautiful words and wisdom. Every time I read your posts they always speak to me and are just what I need to hear even when I didn’t know what I needed. And your photos are awesome too! Thank you and God bless you.ReplyCancel
Jennifer-Linsey…you are so insightful. I love reading your words. This post touched my heart, just like all your entries do. I’ve said this before and I will say it again. You have a gift! Please don’t ever stop talking to all of us out here. I feel guilt and simply cringe when I read you have doubts regarding whether or not anyone is following or listening to your heartfelt words. Yes, there are. Most definitely. I haven’t yet had a chance to read your last entry, but I will soon. I can say for myself that I am running through life most of the time. Working full time, a daughter with school, piano, Girl Scouts, and a Wizard of Oz play. When I do have some quiet time, you are my go-to internet place. Your words are beautiful and your pictures are too. Im also guilty of not wanting to be vulnerable and have everyone read my response, and other times I just can’t find the right words. But please know I love reading your words. Thank you for being you.ReplyCancel
Lorri -Tell you what . . . if this were me, I’d be so delighted with all the bees and butterflies in the lavender that I’d resolve to plant it every year (or is it perennial?) and just leave it for them.
Okay, I’d harvest a little bit.
But I’d rather sit and watch them play in the lavender. Besides, you can’t disappoint them next year now that they know where the lavender is!ReplyCancel
Hello Beauties! How is your brave heart on this first day of August? Are you feeling brave…or do you need a boost? Are you ready for a new month…or wishing you could have the last one back? Are you preparing for school…or prepping for one last summer adventure? Are you able to see the beauty in your current season…or longing for a way out?
Maybe you fall somewhere in between all those questions. Sometimes we don’t know where our heart stands until we take the time to be still. If only we’d stop running, distracting, preventing and controlling. I don’t wish any of you a broken ankle, but I do wish you a season of stillness. And the courage to embrace it. This is where a Bravehearted Beauty gains her strength. {Isaiah 30:15}
As I consider the last few weeks, here’s what I know: I am broken. And I mean that in the best possible way. I’m in a low place, but I’m not afraid of it…and miraculously not depressed by it. {Thank you, LORD!} My ultimate low isn’t a broken ankle. It just happens to be the thing that has brought me into a place of deeper surrender. And the thing that makes it hard to run away and pursue my own agenda. {Ah, the gift of immobility!} I knew right away this season would be about so much more than a broken bone, because God is always doing a deeper thing.
Yes, I’m in a low place, but I feel like I can finally see the bottom. And surprisingly, it looks a lot like this photo I captured on the Amalfi Coast. {Take a closer look at the top of this post.} Isn’t it beautiful? Instead of the utter darkness we often fear we’ll find at the bottom, I see sparkles of light and flashes of hope. In the shadows of hard and rocky places, I see new life and beauty. There is beauty at the bottom. So I allow myself to go low with the One who will lift me back up to the heights…with treasures that can only be found at the bottom.
There are no doubt glory stories to be told from the low places in our lives. I can’t wait to tell a more finished story from the heights, but there’s unfathomable glory being produced right here. Great faith is formed in the pit. True beauty is foundin brokenness. I love sharing beauty, hopefully inspiring you to hunt for it in your own broken places. And while I may not share all the details of my brokenness here on the internet, I hope to share enough to let you know you’re not alone. Feeling all alone in the pit is the worst feeling in the world. {And it’s the place the enemy wants to keep you…believing his lie that you’re all alone.}
Bravehearted Beauties, you are not alone. {Deuteronomy 31:8 is one of many places of promise.}
You are BRAVE in this place. Even if your heart feels fragile in the moment, you are brave for facing your pain. Brave isn’t strong and unbreakable. Brave is having the courage to let your heart break. Brave is believing in a new thing when you can’t yet see it. Brave is daring to hope. Brave is choosing faith over fear. Brave is a lot of things that strong isn’t. You don’t have to be strong today. Just brave…even in your most fragile, painful place.
Pain is an unwanted, yet gifted teacher. I’ve shared some lessons learned in pain here and some perspective on pain’s purpose and power here. {“Without your wounds, where would your power be?”} But today, God’s whisper to my heart is to praise Him in the pain.
One little word makes all the difference. God isn’t asking us to praise Him for the pain, but to praise Him in the pain. {1 Thessalonians 5:18} How on earth can we praise Him in the pain? Honestly, I can’t unless I choose to believe these words are true:
“See, I am doing a new thing!Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wildernessand streams in the wasteland.” ISAIAH 43:19
“Behold, I am making all things new!” REVELATION 21:5
“If you’ll hold on to me for dear life,” says God, “I’ll get you out of any trouble. I’ll give you the best of careif you’ll only get to know and trust me. Call me and I’ll answer, be at your side in bad times;I’ll rescue you, then throw you a party.” PSALM 91:14-15
In this low place, I’m choosing to take God at His word and thank Him for what He says He’s doing, even when what I’m experiencing doesn’t yet feel like a rescue or a new thing. That’s what faith is…believing what we cannot see.
The purest praise flows out of faith.
When God says He will rescue me, I choose to believe my rescue is already happening, even when circumstances make it look like I’m a little lower in the pit. I dare to picture the rescue operation, then get excited about the party, even when it doesn’t look like I have much to celebrate in the moment. And when my imagination fails me, which it often does, I ask God to give me a picture. {His Word is full of pictures.}
And finally I thank Him. Not for the pain, but for the promises. This is what it looks like to praise God in the pain.
I haven’t always been this way. I’m growing this way. And like it or not, pain has been my greatest teacher. But pain isn’t a forever place. It’s the place where our heart is broken so that it can be healed. It’s the place of surrender so that we can be saved. Pain is a low place with a high calling. That’s the crazy paradox of faith. The way down is the way up. It makes no sense. But life doesn’t make sense…even to a high minded intellectual/control freak who tries to make sense out of everything. There’s HOPE for her. There’s FAITH for her. There’s a RESCUE for her.
And then…there’s a party! Start dreaming about your dress and your guest list, Bravehearted Beauties! I can already picture the celebration on the other side of this present pain. Would you dare to believe this promise is true for you, too?
And you know what else? It’s almost too much to believe. As if a rescue mission and a party weren’t enough, here’s what else God is going to do: He’s going to turn this pit into a deep well. Because that’s what He does. He makes all things new. He doesn’t waste your pain; He redeems it. He doesn’t just airlift you out of the pit and leave a gaping hole; He turns it into a place of power and purpose. He doesn’t ignore your past; He uses all of it for good.
As one saint said, “This is what the past is for! Every experience God gives us…is the perfect preparation for the future that only He can see.” {Corrie ten Boom,The Hiding Place.} Talk about a woman who knew the pit! Corrie ten Boom survived Nazi concentration camp, and yet she could say with confidence, “There is no pit so deep that God’s love is not deeper still.”
Amen. Here’s to surrendering to the depths. And to the love that transforms our pit into a deep well. Here’s to the beauty found in brokenness.
Love to you with all of my brave and beautiful heart,
Inga -Thanks for this post! You should write a book….
I don’t have the words to explain how your blog has hit home for me so many times….
Hope you are healing well!ReplyCancel
Bravehearted Beauty-Inga, what an encouragement you are to me. God continues to nudge me in the direction of writing a book. I just get so easily overwhelmed and have no clue where to start or what to write. But someday…I think a book will come. I’m so thankful to know that in my weakness, God uses my words to speak to your heart.ReplyCancel
emi -Dear Linsey, Wow, God continues to use your lessons to teach/remind me of wholeness. Beauty in brokenness/pain. This summer has brought me also to a new introspect. I believe that is one reason you were brought into my life through your blog. Even though i am 10 years older than you and our life experiences are not the exact same, God is working in your life similar to what He is working in my life. (I am not suffering from a broken ankle, but He is working in the depth of my heart.) These last few weeks i have been in a place of “stillness” to recognize my brokeness that needed/needs healing. Thank you for your obedience to write to edify His body. And yes to the newness He is making…especially for those who follow. Love to you sister at the Ten 10 Farm.ReplyCancel
Bravehearted Beauty-Thanks for the love, Emi! I’m so thankful God brought me into your life and brought YOU to my farm for beauty hunting. When God works at the depths, whether through a broken ankle or another broken place, it hurts. And it’s HARD. But if we can just BELIEVE that He’s in it WITH us…that we are not alone. It makes all the difference. Speaking God’s love and nearness over your heart today, dear one.ReplyCancel
Julie-Linsey – THIS. This is my favorite of all your posts. It spoke to me in such a profound way. Thank you for letting the Lord speak through you and for sharing what He is showing you. To picture beauty at “the bottom” is never something I have thought of, but with the Lord is so true. His light and hope reaching to us in reflections, in that place. I hope I can always picture that photo you took on the Amalfi Coast. Wow. Bless you, friend. Xo, ~julieReplyCancel
Nothing Is Wasted » Bravehearted Beauty-[…] here with me today, but I’d like to say a special hello to the ones who responded to my last post. You made raw and vulnerable feel so much less lonely. Thank you. Sometimes I don’t know why […]ReplyCancel
Jennifer-Great read, Linsey. Always so much to absorb and think about. Thanks again for sharing your sweet heart, amazing faithfulness, and wonderful insight. Have a blessed day. Hope your ankle is getting better. Take care.ReplyCancel
This chair looks so much better with a friend sitting in it!
I’ve gotten a little bored with my spot on the couch, so I reached for my camera today. Anyone who takes this many photos from her couch is obviously a little mobility challenged. {And bored!} I may not have much of an outdoor view from here, but there’s still some beauty amidst the broken!
These flowers from a friend changed my view for the better!
This is one of the few places in our house that doesn’t have a pasture view. To keep things interesting, I change directions a few times a day. How’s that for exciting?!!? Soon, I may need a friend to come over and flip and fluff all these pillows…just to make it feel fresh again. And thank goodness for slipcovers! I’m already dreaming of washing all these slips when my ankle heals. {The things a recovering perfectionist dreams about! Ha!}
I rarely blog about house things anymore, but for anyone wants to know: Quatrine is my favorite slipcovered furniture shop. My house is filled with their furniture…purchased little by little over time. Their custom welt and skirt details make their pieces feel extra special. It’s pricey, but they have great sales and their stuff lasts. This couch is nearly 17 years old! Here’s a cleaner view:
So now that you’ve gotten a little peek at my spot on the couch, I know you’re dying to see the clutter on my coffee table! These are the things that are helping me in my healing. And thanks to my sweet family and friends, what’s on the table changes up depending on what people bring me while I just sit here, still as a board. {I was going to say, “still as a mouse,” but they aren’t so still…just quiet.}
And because my family knows I can’t live without it, here’s some of the beauty they’ve brought in from around the farm: fresh herbs, Limelight hydrangeas and a surprise passion flower growing wildly in the brush.
So there you have it: a little tour of my healing spot on the couch in a room without much of a view, but plenty of goodness. It’s not easy to sit here all day. And even harder knowing it won’t end for awhile, but the truth is, I have so many reasons to give thanks…and so many moments of beauty in the brokenness.
With a thankful heart,
P.S. If I’m going to sit still for so long, you can bet I’m going to do a little research and figure out if there’s anything I can do to help the healing process. “How To Speed Fracture Healing” is the article I liked best…maybe because it makes me feel like there’s something I can do while sitting here. I may not eat 6,000 calories while sitting on a couch all day, but I’m all in with the supplements, my husband’s favorite sports injury cream and several hours a day of micro-current therapy. {My husband uses this therapy in his sports injury practice; we’ll see if it speeds bone healing.}
Gracia @ Gracious Offering-Linsey, looks like you are reading some good books and getting a lot of TLC from your family. Hard to know why God slows us down some times but He always has a purpose for us. May you continue to find beauty and joy in each day as you heal. Praying for you. Warmly, GraciaReplyCancel
Suzanne -Linsey- so sorry for your broken ankle! I will be praying for your quick recovery! Blessings! SuzanneReplyCancel
Kathy -I think I may be experiencing some of the same things right now. I’ve been diagnosed with Lyme and my energy has left me, which means I spend my days in bed focusing on getting better, leaving my ‘normal’ life in God’s hands, and trying to allow myself help from wonderful friends reaching out to me. Normally I am the one taking care of others! This is SO frustrating to me! However, this time is an opportunity to evaluate my ‘normal’ life and ask God to show me what changes need to be made.ReplyCancel
tara -so sorry to hear about your broken ankle….praying for perfect healing.
saw your supplements…i use designs for health..LOVE them!ReplyCancel
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Suzanne - Linsey- so happy to hear that you are on your way to recovery and walking again! I will be praying for you and want to thank you for being such an inspiration! Blessings! Suzanne
Dianne - So happy you made it to the porch alone. So disappointed you could not film an entire convo. I love your videos. Please try again soon. hugs!
Inga - Glad to hear you are back on your feet! Take it easy now!
You look and sound great in the video, no worries!
Angela - Linsey, you are just too cute! I’m hoping to have a little more time to read your blog now that the school year is about to start! It’s hard to enjoy your beautiful photos and words when two young boys are fighting in the next room! I met a Sheltie last week that looked so much like your Aslan. She was such a sweet dog that it almost made me want think about adding one to our family one day. That is, when I could tolerate the dog hair!
Jessi - I could feel Spirit’s presence even in your short video :). Your words and your videos are delightful and a big encouragement.