Exposed!

Rain pellets my face as I slosh my way across the camp.  It is cold, penetrating, and just plain nasty.   I use my braille skills to find my way to my assigned cabin. The darkness of this intensely uninviting night is making me have second thoughts about what I have agreed to.  My cabin mates are already tucked in and asleep.  Feeling optionless, I drop my coat on a chair and slide into my sleeping bag.  

Sleep is no where near.  I have a funny feeling that it is not planning to visit me either.  1:45 AM, my eyes refuse to close.  2:55 AM, I am still staring at the ceiling, counting the boards and wondering if any spiders are planning to descend on me.  My mind is as blank as an old black chalkboard in July.  4:17 AM I am trying to remember my outline.  5:30 AM the panic is starting to rise in my heart.  I am expected to speak to these ladies in just a few hours.  I have done my homework.  I have prepared, but I am blank.  6:40 AM I give up and unzip the sleeping and slide into my clothes.  There will not be any shower this morning.  Daylight is just starting to peek in.  

9:30 AM the women are gathering.  My heart  pleads with the Lord to use these moments for His purposes.  All I have to offer are my simple words that form my story.  The story of His grace and mercy generously poured out on me, a sinner. It will require exposure.  It will require authenticity. 

I stand alone in the starkness of the camp bathroom stall.  Whispering my worship, I am aware that He is standing here with me.   I am not alone.  I surrender my words and ask Him to use them for His purposes. Finishing up my private moments with my Abba, I deeply inhale and feel the moist frozen air rushing in from a cracked window.  Suddenly, my feet are moving in a slow cadence to where my story will now be told.  My audience will be these unknown fellow sojourners. 

Taking my place at the front, I turn my face toward these precious ladies. I slowly rotate my gaze from face-to-face, pausing to study their eyes. My heart is taken with the vastness of their pain and feelings of loneliness.  I silently ask the Lord to allow my heart to be exposed, knowing that my flesh WILL be uncomfortable.  

I hear the words gathering in my heart, the Lord is precisely piecing them together to be released for these daughters of His.  I barely glance at my outline and invite them to enter into prayer with me.  

I speak of my journey.  I speak of my shattered dreams.  I speak of the dark abyss.  I am vaguely aware of the clear liquid sliding down my checks. I continue.  My eyes are looking deep into their hearts and seeing their struggle; their pain; their need to surrender control and lay it at His feet. Their need to know that they are not alone.  Their need to experience His love and grace.  I speak of His amazing love poured out on me in my darkest hours.  I speak of learning how to stay facing Him when everything else is shattered.  I hear my voice, and know that these moments are sacred.  I see one sojourner silently  overcome with the realization of just how much she is loved by her creator. I observe another one take her neighbor's hand and wipe the tears that are cascading.  One gentle soul rises to hand me a tissue.  I am grateful.  An hour has elapsed. I know that my Father has woven our hearts together and brought hope, healing, and  His light.

If your heart is broken and you find yourself in the darkest abyss, just whisper His name.  He is there. Put your hands out and call out to Him.  He is waiting for you to surrender.  Then, promise me that you will call another sojourner and ask them to walk with you.  It is okay to be authentic and real. Life is hard and messy.  We are called to love each other and walk with each other through life.

Here is my hand, please take it.  I would love to pray for you.  If you prefer not to share in a public format, please e-mail me at: theplankeyedgirl@gmail.com

Until We Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl
  

Roses, Daisies, and .... Sea Kelp?

"She with strong, gentle hands", pauses and carefully yet purposefully, poses a question, "What flower are you?" She does not wait long to tell me of others and their flower choice.  In excellent, vivid detail, she describes the characteristics of roses - fragrant, fragile, and prickly; daisies - bendable, open, and strong; tulips - colorful; temperamental; and closed.  I lay there as she continues working on my neck. I savor these moments!  Time seems to silently slip by.  

Hearing her slow steadily inhale, I wait for what will come next.  Peaceful nothingness fills the room.  Like a new mom, carefully holding her new offspring, "She with strong, gentle hands" carefully allows the words to softly glide from her lips, "You are a piece of Sea Kelp."  

A cozy, odd silence fills the room.  Inside my soul a giggle is about to bubble up and out.  In all my days, I would've NEVER thought of myself as a piece of sea kelp. A mermaid....possibly, but....sea kelp?   Allowing this statement to hang in the air, I close my eyes and swirl this image around in my head.  Hum...Sea Kelp.  "She with strong, gentle hands" says nothing else.  Vivid images of slimy, green upside down vines, swaying with the push and pull of the waves dances across my minds eye. A skittering thought interrupts these images and a smirk crawls across my face.  I have always loved the feeling of being encased by water.  Some beings panic at this feeling.  For moi, it is an instant sense of peace and exhilaration.  Hum....but, "sea kelp"?

Slowly, methodically, I mentally swim to the surface and in a whisper mutter, "Why sea kelp?" With a soft smile and dancing eyes "She with strong, gentle hands" says, "It is a good thing."  I am perplexed.  Clearly, this was not on my radar.  

More quietness. She faintly releases the words - whimsical, free-flowing, strong, anchored, shelter, nourishing. I say nothing but allow my eyes to slid shut.   He is speaking to my heart.  

Often He surprises me.  Who would've thought...."Sea Kelp".  I LOVE how well He knows me.  He had to put me on a massage table, in a dimly lit room, with only a blanket, get me to hear His loving words to me - You are MY "Sea Kelp".  

As you journey through this gift of today, consider stopping and being still for five minutes.  Take a breath that fills your entire being with the sweetness of atmosphere and listen for His voice calling you by name.

Until we Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl

Bullet Proof Hologram and Plastic People

I crumpled into a ball, gasping for air, unsure of what had just taken place.  Inside my body, explosions were still going off.  Years of explosions.  Maybe even decades of explosions that were laying dormant. Words.  Instant snap shot photos of moments.  More words.  More pictures.  I couldn't stop them.  I couldn't control them.  I was a prisoner in my own reality.   I continued to shake while a waterfall expelled from my heart through my eyes. Minutes gave way to hours and still I could not silence and calm my mind.

I did not see it coming.  I should have, but my own self-deception had blinded me.  My eternal optimism and tenacious propensity not to give up had made it impossible to see the reality in front of me.  Maybe even to acknowledge that there was a different way to process all of this.  Maybe even to surrender control and step away from what this world expected and who people thought I was. 

Like a race car running the Indy 500, my mind was circling.  Questions peppered my consciousness as I lay in a tight cocoon, behind my bedroom doors. Why now?  What was wrong with me?  

For years, I had been content and even happy to live as a bullet proof hologram.  Isn't that what I was suppose to be. Polished persona.  Not easily ruffled by life's bumps and bruises. Able to take the hits and keep going. Like a rock hitting a fragile pane of glass. The events of the last forty five minutes, hit my fragile heart. Tonight, the hologram of "Plastic Me" shattered into a million shards.  

It is now a few weeks past this.  Yes, I did survive. In fact, you might even be surprised to hear me say that this has been one of the best things that has happened to me in the last decade.  The hologram of "Me" shattered, but out of this has been born a real, authentic person who is loved by the Creator Himself.  I think I now understand how the Velveteen Rabbit felt.  I have been loved to life by my creator. I am no longer a plastic person, with Kevlar.

I am sure that as I live each day without the Kevlar and in my new "skin" I will continue to enjoy the aliveness that I now feel.  

Until we Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl