Turning Tides

Was it the salt water or the oceans of tears I tasted? “I’m so insignificant,” I thought, as my toes sank into the sand. Confusion, doubt, and diagnoses were once rip currents. Just as the Spirit cools the heat and humidity of humanity, the gusts and breezes off the Atlantic coast washed me with relief. God’s love and grace overcame my dry, hot spirit like the powerful waves that left me weightless. An indescribable love (like that for my children) cleansed me. Without strain, my eyes witnessed infinity along the horizon. “I love you to infinity and beyond” was my soul’s song.

Tides were turning.

When my emotions rise and fall, like the tides with gravitational pulls, may the SON and the miracle of the Moon remind me of our Creator. Christ who makes the impossible, possible. Whether you’re hiking a mountain or climbing an obstacle, standing at the ocean or in a grocery line, lying in a hammock or in a hospital bed, you are significant to Christ. YOU MATTER. YOU ARE LOVED.

K.L. Hale

Goodbye, summer. Hello, fall. Friends, may your tides turn in ways that give you peace, good health, and happiness. I’m flannel with faith, and a bit of salt and fresh air, all mixed with love and gratitude for each of you.

Have faith 💙


Have you heard of NET, yet?🦓

Last Thursday I tested positive for Covid. My head felt like it was going to explode. My body ached. The trip? Was it worth it? Is ANY of this worth it? YES! “For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love, and self-discipline.” 2 Timothy 1:7 (NIV).

When I was approached by my dear friend from college about taking me on a trip, I was hesitant. I’ve had my hiking tribe in the past accompany me. I’m very protective on solo short trips. Every detail of my life requires discernment. Dread is not an option (or, in honor of visiting Kennedy Space Center, “Failure is not an option.”). My hesitation was dissolved by our humor. Off to Florida, we flew.

In November, I’ll return to the National Cancer Institute for more scans. Until then…I’ll use wisdom and take it one day at a time. Because I’m a life-long learner, I’ve learned new software and attended training. As of Friday, I’m an official school substitute. Half-days will be the best for my health (and two a week if possible). My goal is to be here two days a week (in addition to publishing once a week). I’ll be less on my phone and more present in the life in front of me.

Life is risky. I can worry about every pain, blood count, or ache I have. OR…I can…live. Each morning, in meditation, prayer, and worship, I open up my hands and say, “I surrender.” I’ll move when HE says, “Move.” Stop when he says, “Stop.” Rest when HE says, “Rest.” Go when HE says, “Go.”

Tides are turning. What will YOU do with TODAY?

How will you ride out the waves? Are your tides turning? Although there will be weeks I’ll be gone, I’m waving and praying from SW MO.

We love you. Karla & Finley ❣️🐾

Typically, I don’t turn off comments. I’m reserving energy so I can visit your places. Thank you for your understanding.❣️

Rating: 1 out of 5.

©2020-2024 Flannel with Faith. All rights reserved.

Side Effects

After working for several hours on part II of “My Missouri” series, I felt a tug by the Spirit to write the words that were brimming over my soul. I’ll return to My Missouri series after Easter. Thank you for stopping by to support me!

“Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” Luke 22:42

This week is spiritually significant to me. Holy Week moves me. The Savior I serve walked the Earth, fully man, fully God. Showing love, compassion, kindness, and an opportunity to accept the source of complete life and peace, he surprised folks with his “upside down” ways. Turn the other cheek? Forgive those who hate you? Love your enemies? Give to the poor and the widows? Show humility and meekness? A love-giving, sin-forgiving, hope-providing, disease-healing, outcast-gathering, lowly-lifting, disciple-teaching, grace-abiding, donkey-riding KING… took MY PLACE, YOUR PLACE as an atonement for our alienation. “Shattering the shame and dying for the doubters, Jesus was brutally crucified. “It is Finished.”

“When Jesus had received the sour wine, he said, ‘It is finished,’ and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.” John 19:30

 There were side effects.

A soldier surrendered his skepticism. A mother wept and mourned, then rejoiced. A doubter became a believer. Disciples’ determination drove them to dream, deliver, debate, and defend to their death! For ALL OF US, if we believe, there is hope harnessed to a promise.

We all suffer. We will all experience side effects—good and bad. Have life events produced a side effect of shame? Has life handed you a dose of doubt? Do you feel hopeless? We can try and tuck these side effects tight in a tomb, sealed by a stone. The stone CAN roll. Your tomb can be emptied.

“Arriving at the tomb they discovered that the huge stone covering the entrance had been rolled aside so they went in to look. But the tomb was empty The body of Jesus was gone! Luke 24: 2-3


Yesterday…

The post office was packed. Most people in line looked down at their phones. Two kind ladies acknowledged me with a smile. An older gentleman at the counter told a funny story (I giggled). Unsure of the box size I needed, I stepped to the counter with my items ready to mail. The pleasant worker provided the right size box and a mailer sticker. “Fill this out at the counter and come back to me for checkout.” One woman was very upset. “It’s not fair that she gets to return because she’s unprepared. There should be a line for those of us who are prepared.” That’s a great idea, I thought to myself. It would be helpful.

Popular prescriptions might produce side effects of cynicism, criticism, jealousy, greed, hate, or comparison.

She continued talking about my unpreparedness and added, “I’m in a hurry because I work with cancer patients.” Loud enough for a few to hear I said, “I’m so thankful for God’s grace,” (and that I wasn’t burning up by that fiery stare–although tears were forming to douse it). One of the kind ladies said, “Isn’t God’s grace wonderful?” Another kind gal gave me a heart symbol with her hands. My heart melted! Smiling, with tears, I thought about humanity, how judgy we can be, and what a gosh darn hurry we’re in all the time. We are not patient creatures. The sweet lady who gave me her “heart” said, “I have lupus. I’m 51. I don’t look sick and it’s a struggle.” Wow. Was she reading my mind? The other lady shared about a friend who has cancer. “I understand,” I shared. “I’m living with it.” The 3 of us formed a circle of compassion. I begged them to give me their two cards to mail so they could leave. They refused! I left there feeling hopeful. But also, a good lesson that I need to be more prepared–I grabbed flat rate boxes on my way out! My heart went out to the lady who had a crusty shell. I’ve been there. She was experiencing side effects.

There are times when we’re not prepared. The unexpected happens. Everybody’s going through something. The loss of a child, sickness, job, or home. Or even happy and joyful times. We all suffer–side effects will surface.

As I strive to manage symptoms and thrive with side effects, I’m reminded that God speaks to us in diverse ways. At times it’s direct and clear (like with Abraham, “Yes, God, I’m here”). Other times he guides us quickly. Sometimes, he grows us silently (Joseph was 17 when he had his first dream—by 30, he went from the pit to the palace, was an interpreter, and showed amazing grace to his brothers).

So many years ago, as he hosted his Last Supper, Jesus KNEW the suffering he’d endure. The horrific side effects of betrayal and a bloody beating led to an excruciating death. The “side effects” of this humanity wouldn’t be worth it to me…but for my Savior. I can’t help but share the side effects of salvation—love, compassion, grace, and hope.

In the 35,000 decisions you might make in a day, which ones will produce positive side effects? For those suffering, I’m so sorry. My prayer is your side effects are eternity-fulfilling, hope-granting, love-giving, soul-soothing, and grace-accepting. You are loved.

Thank you, God, for your miracles. May the side effects of your love and grace spread like a good seed, germinate, …and grow.

Have faith 💚


I love the side effects of nature! Pics by me–Springfield Nature Center

©2020-2024 Flannel with Faith. All rights reserved.

Fall Forecast

Happy Fall, faithful friends.

Today I don’t need flannel, but I’m dressed in faith. The 80 degrees and higher will give way to cooler temps in the west. Without my friends, I couldn’t make this trip (for MANY reasons). ). My fall forecast calls for a season of change; cooler contentment mixed with the colors of calm. I hope to be raking ridiculous results and jumping in piles of promise (well, not that SOON :-). May faith be in your forecast; our Savior soothe your soul.


Timeless Treasure

My local writing guild provided a prompt of a piano for this month’s writing contest. Giving life to an inanimate object is difficult (thank you, Martha, for editing suggestions). Here you go, Mom. My friends, Kelley and Gary, may enjoy this, too. If you grew up around a piano, you understand.

In the shadow, you stand stoic and stately. Shining upon you, a golden light unmasks your aged beauty and warmth. You’re so grand in your upright stance. Your Ivory keys are yellowed; yet your half-steps are still pitch black for Momma to see. C to D to E. F to G, then A, B, and another C.

Your basswood bench was her throne, your pedals shifted the tone. Momma’s hands made the music, she never sang alone. Together we created a musical melody. Momma sang alto, Dad belted bass, sisters sang soprano, and I’d find a harmony place. Momma tickled the tempo tight, and grace became a key. Children’s songs to choruses, “Just as I am, without one plea.”

At age 7 I had my first song solo. With affection, I reflect on the practice times with you. Our devotions matched; I couldn’t detach. “Would the church piano be as great as Momma’s,” I wondered. Nervously, I held the microphone singing: “I saw a blind man tapping along, losing his way, as he passed through the throng. Tears filled my eyes, I said, ‘Friend you can’t see,’ but with a smile on his face, he replied to me.”

From “Hallelujah Square” to “I Want to See Jesus,” you supplied hope and a promise, a love we still share. “It is Well with My Soul” and “How Great Thou Art,” songs linger around you, they stay in my heart. At ten with the lessons, I grasped chords and notes. The yearning to play is a hope that still floats.

Our gathering has dwindled. Longsuffering and composed, you stand serene and quiet. Adorned with family photos, you’re a heavenly piece. Patiently you wait for us to gather around. No matter what life brings, we’ll sing hopeful sounds. Most times you sit alone, dependable, and respected. Our songs have changed, children have grown, Momma’s fingers ache, and some family voices are gone. Through times that were hard, unexpected, and good, you’re more than a piano made with wood. You’re a gift in our gathering and melodies in our souls. The music from you is what makes us whole.

Hearing music from you, I release any strife. You’re Momma’s piano, a timeless treasure, a marked part of my life.

Have faith💚

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©2020-2023 Flannel with Faith. All rights reserved.