Welcome back

“When God invites me to give voice to something like the importance of self-compassion and self-care,

it seems that an integral part of that giving voice is to live what I speak.

Ahhhh… the relief of no more guilt from neglecting my blog.

Okay, maybe I need to start that again on a more compassionate note.

Ahhhh… the gift of experiencing enough pain relief, creative energy, and schedule discipline to finally be able to have the head and body space to write again.

This has been an odd season for me…

but in some ways, not entirely unexpected….

When God invites me to give voice to something like the importance of self-compassion and self-care, it seems that an integral part of that giving voice is to live what I speak. So, in these days of dealing with my pain, obedience has looked like choosing NOT to force myself to push through, but caring for myself and accepting, with some grief and patience, my limitations.

Though I haven’t been writing, I have been:

            Further exploring my new diagnosis of visceral hypersensitivity

            Playing with Georgia

            Finding yet another physical therapist with yet another approach because the nerves are being stimulated by alignment issues (postural restoration)

            Learning a new low histamine diet because they are also stimulated by foods. 

I call this the downside of being so fearful and wonderfully made. It’s all so very complex.  Which, interestingly, is a part of where God shows up in this story.

I have a deep belief that one of the gifts women offer our communities is to live in a woven way, more holistically. 

God is in my body and my calling.

God is in my pain and my words.

God is in my limitations and my opportunities.

I think of the woman with the hemorrhage

26She had suffered a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all she had, yet instead of getting better she grew worse.

I’ve often asked God if this is really how God wanted to spend my energy and our money.  Like the woman with the hemorrhage, apparently so.

How does one sustain hope in times like this? How did she find the strength to fight the crowd and reach out to Jesus?  How did I find the strength to try a new diet and tell my long and twisted tale to another physical therapist?

There is an odd little verse I often think of in moments like this… it references the people of God as prisoners of hope.

 Return to your fortress, you prisoners of hope;
    even now I announce that I will restore twice as much to you.

(Though I know better than to pull a random phrase out of context in Scripture, let’s just say the Holy Spirit gave me special permission because She repeatedly brought it to mind.)

As a prisoner of hope I keep moving toward healing on this long and twisted path.  I don’t give up on this blogging endeavor because there has been a long interruption. I welcome back my own energy and creativity.

I also welcome your voice back into this small community. I’ve missed you as a community. I would love to hear where you find yourself to be a prisoner of hope.  In your marriage? With a child? A friendship? A community? Your body? A dream? A calling?

Welcome back!

  • disqus_G1y7LVmnCH

    I’m so glad you are back! I love your blog. I am a prisoner of hope with my adult daughter. Two steps forward and 1 step back. At least there is movement, I hope.

    • Bill DeForest


      So glad you are back-you are some kind of persistent! For that we all rejoice!
      If we are “prisoners of hope” we have to do something with the hope that endures within as well as contains us on the outside (just as every physical prison has an inside and an outside).

      The twin sister of the prisoner of hope is the prisoner of calling which is also felt inside and affirmed outside (by other people). What separates the two sisters is that calling can enrich the life of the other but the call remains with the called one; hope shared from a prisoner of hope is a gift that can be carried away by the other person.

      Just to push it one step further: our prison of call may be to embrace becoming a prisoner of hope; willingly and freely.

      • janet davis

        I love the idea that hope and calling are related… sisters! Thanks!

    • janet davis

      Thanks, friend! Holding hope and dancing the two steps forward, one back dance with you!

  • Peggy

    Glad you are back Janet. I am a prisoner of HOPE in my husbands journey right now far away from mine, Mine is to walk with my Lord and if it is HIS plan, then he will join me in HIS time. I need to listen and be obedient to HIS voice and calling.

    • janet davis

      Peggy, thanks for adding your voice with such simple honesty and courage. I am holding hope with you.

  • Mary Gemmill

    Janet- good to hear from you again :)

    We have missed you~!

    Through many dark years I have held on to:2 Corinthians 4:17
    our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.

    When affliction has lasted more than 60 years it certainly doesn’t seem like : a moment !! But it is so good to know that in the light of eternity it will seem so, and it will have proven to be worthwhile enduring.

    I am a prisoner of hope for my second son, who has been away from and angry with God for over 20 years:(

    I ask for HIS help to make me faithful to intercede, and NOT TO GIVE UP!

    • janet davis

      What encouraging words, Mary. We will hold hope together…. a community of hope!