Curls

Tuesday, February 24th, 2009

Her curls are a manifestation of the free spirit within her. Not just free like wild, but free like free (though wild too at times). I don’t (at all) advocate neglect, but sometimes I choose to not pull them back in a ponytail or bring a brush to them because the curls are so lovely to me just the way they are. Wild and free. They bounce when she walks, and float when she dances. They poke out of the holes in her helmet when she rides her bike, and they tickle my face when she climbs up to cuddle with me. I suddenly understand why my own curls enchanted my parents when I was a little girl. There is something about them that tells of joy and exuberance. Something that passes on a smile.

I feel like I met her with the first flutters that happened in my womb around 23 weeks gestation. I had recently gone to bed, and was lying awake in the dark. The husband had already (just barely) drifted off. I don’t remember what I was thinking about (who can keep track?) but I do know there was all at once, one instant that I shot straight up in my bed. My breath was caught in my throat and for a moment, I thought I had imagined it. Flitter flutter. I immediately teared up and started shaking my love awake, exclaiming that I had felt the baby move! There was no mistaking it as it continued, and tears streamed down my face between bursts of astonished laughter. I marvel now that my darling girl was dancing long before she took her first breath.

Dancing and I have a sour history at best. Somewhere in my ‘barely surviving’ years, I lost the capacity or desire to expressively move my body. Perhaps because my expression might have been less than positive in keeping with the feelings I had inside, or perhaps because my rigidity was the only structure holding me together (so I thought). I was truly paralyzed. Even as a singer, I stood on the stage stiff as a board because one iota of movement threatened to fling open the floodgates I was so dutifully keeping closed. So I became a master at closing down. I grew up very fast, and convinced many that I was truly mature beyond my years, when in fact, I just became good at stuffing my childlike heart in the dungeon where no one could find it, including myself.

Its tragic that people can close down so quickly and take so long to open up again. Rediscovering my childlike heart has been a long and arduous journey, but I do believe my children, especially my firstborn, have accelerated the process. I recently shared with a friend what I have gained from each of my children during pregnancy and their early years. I feel like each one has changed me from the moment I knew of their existence…like they added to me a blessing, or blessings, that go far beyond the delight a new baby brings. Blessings that could not be anticipated or scripted any more masterful form. My firstborn has taught me how to dance again, and has unearthed that childlike heart I’ve been missing. She makes me laugh, and we spend at least some time every single day dancing around our house together. Because of the joy I have in her, I can understand the joy God has in me…and the joy He has for me. Those who knew me back in the day know how monumental a discovery this is. Go Jesus.

She shows me the beauty of freedom, the joy of surrender to God, and the overwhelming meaning that comes with turning a stone heart outward again to be vulnerable, moved, inspired, and filled. Her curls are therapy for my wounds.

Identity Crisis

Monday, February 23rd, 2009

I started this topic some 6 months ago, and it is very safe to say that I have slightly new and different thoughts on it after just a half a year of percolating. I’ll be the first to admit that this has been a notable part of my journey through my early twenties, but I will also be the first to admit that there is much more to life than ‘finding yourself’. First of all, ‘yourself’ is such a dynamic and changing entity, especially in youthful years. The young often think of themselves much differently than they really are, for better or worse. I have known countless gorgeous girls who think they are not attractive, plenty of folks that think they are the bees knees and spend all their time trying to convince everyone else they are too. I have known individuals who talk about having the freedom to do anything they want to do, but having seen that they are not in fact free from the bondage they sow with their self-proclaimed license, I’m not so sure they understand what freedom really is. I have met people who literally believe that they are worth nothing. Who we are, and what we think about ourselves are two very different things.

There is something to be said for exploring the world, asking questions, and acknowledging that not all things are settled within you. I don’t mean to belittle that journey or rob from it any meaning that might be found. I myself have been on a similar journey. I also don’t have any judgement for the above listed, those who see themselves differently than they might really be. I have my own moments. The ones that leave me feeling like I’m the world’s worst mother, or the weirdest person around. In my rational moments, I know neither of those are true. Note to all: Be aware that the way you think about yourself is not the foundation of truth. We’re so quick to let our feelings guide us, but whoa to ye on the wayward path of feelings. Trouble is ahead, if not present.

What I hope to say here, in this space, is that searching for your ’self’ may not be what you really want or need. I’m beginning to think that searching for oneself often becomes a circular journey, or one that really doesn’t take you anywhere at all, which is certain death to the adventuring spirit. Searching for God however…sweet adventure. Who can discover all of who He is? Who can comprehend Him even in tiny doses? The very idea of knowing Him as He is in all His grandeur excites me beyond belief. The intimacy of knowing Him as He is in all His humility comforts me much the same. Learning about Him teaches me about me, and exactly who I am in Him. He is the One that is unchanging and ever true. He is the One who is constant. Certain. Faithful. While I am ever changing and only sometimes true. Fickle and Faithless. How thankful I am to be hidden away while the Alpha and Omega illuminates for me who He is and who I am in His thoughts. 

I urge you to build your house…your thoughts…on the rock. The sand has nothing to give you.  Matthew 7:24-27

Seasons and Surprises

Monday, February 23rd, 2009

Sometimes the seasons change all too quickly. Perhaps that is why they are seasons, and not eras or ages. One day you can wake up and the snow is gone, the sun is out, and new life is budding. Not that I’ve been ‘in winter’ inside my heart…quite the contrary. I’ve been full of joy and purpose and thanksgiving for the blessings in my life. I have learned to enjoy quietness, though it is still not where I’m most comfortable. I have learned to open my hands instead of keeping a tight grip on things. I have learned to listen more often than I speak…some of the most important lessons come in whispers. And I have learned to just say Yes to Jesus when He’s up to something I don’t understand.

One of those times is now. I say Yes to what He has for me. That just happens to be a new baby, for those who didn’t catch on in the last poetic midnight prayer. Surprise! I’m surprised too. In one terrific moment, God leapt out of a 2×4x1 inch box labeled “First Response” to tell me, “Surprise! I have another blessing for you!” I love surprises, but am not often truly surprised, because my brain is constantly gathering and organizing information. I find myself picking up subtle cues and clues without meaning to, and those attempting to surprise me get about half the bang they were looking for. That annoys me about myself sometimes. If I were only a little more oblivious, I might be more easily surprised. I guess in this case, it is a non-issue because I was true blue surprised. 

Midnight Prayer

Friday, February 13th, 2009

Many miss the blessings you give, Oh Lord. Shouldering disappointment. Stuck with a pin called inconvenience or faithlessness. Shades on their eyes that keep them from seeing the sparkling treasure you have planned. Some let the weight of worry come sooner than the wave of joy that is surely at home with your gifts, no matter how surprising they be. 

Don’t let me be a foolish woman. I say yes to You. I say yes to what You give to me. Whether or not I understand why, I want what you’re offering, and I sit here with open hands and heart. I have tears – rejoicing ones that are glad to sacrifice whatever it takes, and glad to be poured for Your purpose at any time. Bless me, O God, and I shall be blessed. I shall be joyful and filled with gratitude for Your lovingkindness toward me. I will exalt Your name in all the earth, and I will be a living testimony of Your goodness…Your majesty. Within me I carry Your miracle of life. I’m so humbled. And so desperate to hear Your voice for each step I must take. Be with me now, and speak to me, Jesus. My ears are open.