Stone Statues; Squirrel on Steroids; and the Green Room Door

I should be paralyzed like a stone statue, but instead I am flitting around the room like an overgrown squirrel on steroids.  

I am in the "Green Room" awaiting my que. I am bouncing around and attempting to go through all the words, but an odd sense of elation is exploding from deep inside of me.  I give up and fall on my knees.  With gratitude for the gift of words and the message He has embedded in my heart, I pour out my thanksgiving to him in an audible voice.  I know He has got this and will orchestrate my words the way He sees fit. I have done my part and now it is up to Him to take the message and speak to each one individually in a way that only He can.

In many ways, I feel as if these last few months I have been pregnant and today is the delivery day.

If you have ever delivered a baby, you know the realization that suddenly hits you when you become aware that there is no other way for this baby to be born, except for you to walk through the "delivery".  It is an odd mixture of exhilaration, fear, and incredible joy.  You realize that your life will NEVER be the same from the moment of delivery on.  Standing behind the "Green Room Door,"  I am experiencing all of these same emotions.

Waiting in the wings, a calmness washes over me. A deep longing to look into the faces of these precious women overtakes me.  I hear the introduction and feel my feet moving toward the center of the stage.  Pausing briefly, I am thankful the house lights are up enough to see each face turned up in expectation.  I hear the words being pushed through my vocal chords. Through my own  eyes, I am seeing how my story is allowing them to say, "Me too!"  I finish with a spoken word piece that He wrote on my heart.  Turning, I stroll off the stage.

Something inside of me wells up and I find warm liquid cascading down my soft flushed cheeks. My heart is bubbling over with a deep sense of gratitude to the one who created me;  has walked with me; has carried me ; and has sat next to me on this rollercoaster of a journey called life.   Taking a moment to collect myself, I pause to offer my thanksgiving for the opportunity to tell these ladies that their stories matter.  To let them see that God has given them each a unique life, and therefore story, that is a gift to share. 

What opportunity do you need to say "Yes!" to? What is He putting in front of you? Your "Yes!" could change someone elses life, delivery will change yours.

Until We Chat Again,

The Plank-Eyed Girl

Self-Hate, Beauty, and Photo Shoots

Nervously they appeared, one by one.  Sometimes close together, maybe even in small groups. Others silently sliding in individually, making sure no one was around to observe this moment. Hesitantly they faced me.  My job was to capture an image of them.  Each participant displayed some degree of dread at this event.

Gently nudging them into the late afternoon soft light and using my words to encourage them, most eventually turn towards me and smile. Inevitably, these precious humans also express varying levels of disdain for their face and having their photo taken.  

As the afternoon wears on, my heart becomes heavier with each click and interaction.  Why do these precious humans not like what they look like?  Who has done this to them!!  Why have they let "others" define what beauty is and what it is not?

The afternoon seems to be slowly meandering forward.  I am consumed with these swirling thoughts.  I am attempting to slow each one and follow it to a logical ending.  It is like attempting to jump on the back of a dancing dragonfly on a warm summers evening.  Dutifully, I complete my afternoon activities and can hardly wait to arrive home.

Settling in for the night, I bring up each picture on the computer and allow myself to linger looking at it before cropping it for print. I imagine that I don't know these people or their stories.  Still, I am drawn to their faces.  Their faces are precious and simply beautiful. Looking in each of their eyes, there is so much story to be told.  I want to sit with each of them and hear their stories.  I want to hold space for them to be heard and for them to hear how simply beautiful they are and how I see them through the lens.  

Unfortunately, most of them won't allow this type of interaction.  It would be too uncomfortable for them.  So, I will write them personal notes thanking them for trusting me.  I will encourage them to value the gift of their face, for it was created by the Master Creator Himself.  When He completed it, I am sure He stood back and smiled. He had every type of feature, color, texture, and shape available to Him.  Yet, He chose exactly the intricate details He wanted each one of us to have. Each time, He was proud of His beautiful, one-of-a-kind creation.  

May you know that EVERY detail of your face and body was picked out by the Creator of the Universe.  NONE of it was a mistake!  Both He and I call you "Beautiful".

Until we Chat Again,

The Plank-Eyed Girl

Burnt Grilled Cheese, Fawns, and Five Smooth Stones

Tentatively, I stood and turned to face the group of five.  Like an awkward fawn, standing for the first time.  Not sure what was happening in my head and heart, I froze.  Realizing my saliva was absent from my mouth, I swallowed hard trying to activate the liquid glands.  Words were absent. My eyes laser-locked on theirs, searching for any sign to continue. My hands nervously clenched against my rib cage.  Stoically, words tumbling from my mouth.  

Painfully, moments lapsed into minutes as this "inspirational" message was delivered.  Truth be told, it was delivered more like a eulogy.

My delivery was worse than burnt grilled cheese on white bread. As this "rehearsal" came to a close, I quickly stuffed my array of papers into my hot pink messenger bag and bolted for the car. 

Zipping along the boulevard, with my heart peppering my mind, I feebly attempted to make sense of the last hour and a half.  What had happened?   This should've been a walk in the park.  I give "inspirational" messages as well as tell stories all day long.  I have a wonderful job doing this for a living. Why did I freeze?  WHAT was going on?  I felt (and I am sure looked) like I was back in seventh grade and this was the first time I had spoken to an audience.

Safely arriving home, I retreat to my bathroom. Dropping clothes onto the floor, I slide into a hot shower and allow the emotion of the train wreck to wash over me.  Moments slip into minutes that are lost.  The hot water expires so I relent and shut it off. All I want is the safety of my memory foam mattress and my childhood pink polk-a-dotted blanket to cocoon in. Thankfully, sleep is waiting for me.  

Morning arrives too soon.  Furrowing into the bedsheets, I refuse to welcome the day.  I hear Abba calling my name.  He whispers, "Go look at David and Goliath."  Ugh!  I KNOW the story of David and Goliath.  I commence to protest, but He is silent.  Evidently, this is a non-negotiable point this morning.  Reaching out of my cocoon, my hand recognizes my bible and I draw it under the covers. Opening it to First Samuel 17.  Dutifully, I read through it. Suddenly verses 38-40 leap off the page.  Awe MAN!  You would think that at 52, I would've learned this by now!   

King Saul tried to give David his own armor and weapons to fight Goliath.  I just tried to deliver an inspirational message according to someone else's formula.  I should know that this NEVER works! David proclaimed, "I can't go in these, I'm not used to them."  He tried on Saul's armor.  Why did I try to use a formula that I was not used to? Next, he strapped on Saul's sword, only to realize that this entire outfit was NOT going to work. Promptly, David took it off and proceeded to pick up the weapons that he was used to (smooth stones).

David did not allow even King Saul to persuade him differently. WOWZEE!!!!     It is in this moment that I realize in my human desire to "please" someone else, I failed miserably at what I have been gifted to do.  Gently my Father whisper, "I have prepared you for this. Trust me."  

YOU have been uniquely designed with gifts and talents that can impact the world.  May you embrace the uniqueness of these gifts and be true to the training He has provided for you.  You can trust His plan and His ways.  

Until We Chat Again,

The Plank-Eyed Girl