Ninety Six Hours

I pause momentarily and suck in the freshness of the moment.  Ninety six hours of sterileness, starkness, and strangers.  Ninety six hours of doubt and unknowing.  Ninety six hours wondering what our life will be like.  Ninety six hours of my beloved's life hanging by a few thick threads. These are the things that my last ninety six hours has held.  

Drinking in the warmth of the sun on this beautiful Fall day, I stand in a untamed heap of gently surrendered tree attire.  The peels of color slowly losing their vibrancy as they silently wither away.  Jack twists and swirls around my legs, making his way up my body until I silently shiver.  Usually I hate shivering, but today I embrace the gift of feeling alive.  In these moments, I am grateful for the gift of breath and the knowledge that my beloved will soon be re-joining me on this adventure called life.  

The realization that each breath is a gift and each day is intended to be lived to the fullest with my Creator quietly twirls through my head. My Creator is beckoning me to take His hand and dance with Him in the quietness of these moments.  To allow myself to be taken with the fragility of these moments I have experienced.  To understand that I am just passing through and each day is a gift from Him to be offered back to Him for His use.  To comprehend that nothing I have here has eternal value other than my relationship with Him.  His ever-probing eyes searching mine for acknow-ledgement of this lesson. 

I will to remember these moments. When I wake up tomorrow, I will replay these moments.  When I wake up in a week, I will replay these moments. When I wake up in ten years, I will replay these moments.  When I wake up on my last day on this planet, I will replay these moments. May the sweetness of these moments be etched solidly on my heart with indelible ink.  May this Plank-Eyed girl never forget that My Creator reached in to today and altered my path and gave me my Beloved back.

Until we Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl

The Web of Scandalous Grace

Inhaling deeply and holding it inside my body, I realize that the air has changed.  I can feel it infiltrating every cell of my body.  It is not just cool, it is holding drops of liquid in it.  Moisture that this earth is thirsty for.  Moisture that my soul is longing for.  

My eyes can barely take in all the changes that have silently swept in while the blackness of night provided a covering.  The solid branches of the neighbor's ancient maple tree, relinquishing the magnificently colored leaves of it's cloak.  The sturdy towering sunflowers that now bend their heads and share their bounty with the creatures of the air.  The variegated, brightly

salmon, green pepper, and cauliflower colored pumpkins that now peek out from behind the foliage ready to give themselves for my pleasure.

Everything seems to be emptying itself for this new season.  My thoughts turn inward.  What might I release for others that would allow me to be changed?

The sun is peeking out from its eastern home.  It dances off the delicately woven structures that hang heavy with the morning dew.  

Their owners patiently wait for a gift of nourishment from the sky.  They are not particular.  The gift will be embraced and provide the  necessary nutrients to sustain life.  

It is in this moment, I realize that before me is one of the most amazing masterpieces I will ever have the gift of observing.  Hundreds of threads are interwoven to create a masterfully constructed residence.  Realizing that I am completely mesmerized by this and that many moments have slide by, it dawns on me that I live in a similar environment.   It is an invisible web of scandalous grace.  Each thread precisely placed by the giver of this generous grace.  Each point of overlap, a reinforcement of His mercy towards me.  Each anchor point, securely placed by His strong hands in the rough-hewn wood that He gave His life on.  May I never doubt that this Plank-Eyed Girl is securely held in the web of His scandalous grace.

As the night that has surrounded your soul is gently pulled back, what will you cradle in your soft hands to be offered back to your Creator for His purposes?  Will you let Him weave a web of His scandalous grace for you to live in? 

Here's my hand, let's walk together in His scandalous grace.  May you never walk alone.

~The Plank-Eyed Girl

Toplessness and Little Sisters

Going topless is always my preferred mode for driving.  Ever since my Mr. brought my little black thing home, I have enjoyed the freedom of zipping along without a covering.  It is a small fix for my inexplicable need to fly.  As the wind courses and swirls around me, it increases my ability to breath and process life.

Monday evening had a hint of Fall coolness in the air, it was no different from any other evening other than my heart was feeling squished.  I decided to go topless, so I jumped in the Miata, revved up the pistons and headed out to another meeting.  As I sped along the nicely curvy, slightly changing, tree-lined road, my heart was asking my Father to show up tonight at this meeting.  (Okay, truth be told, I was more like loudly pleading and pounding on the steering wheel.  I was being selfish because He is always with me, but I just really wanted to have Him make himself evident.) 

Arriving at the meeting, I slid in, grabbed a water and engaged in the cultural chit chat.  The meeting commenced and throughout it, I wrestled with an extremely strong, internal dialogue which questioned why I was there and told me I had "nothing" to contribute. You know, sometimes you just have to put yourself on the wall and have a talk with yourself, which is what I was attempting, but it was not getting me anywhere.  Thankfully, during the meeting, no one called on me for any kind of coherent answer, due to the fact that I was having my own party in my head.  As the meeting concluded, I thanked the hostess and made my escape out the front door.  

Sauntering down the driveway, I had the company of one of my little sisters. (I baby sat her when I was a teenager and our parents are best friends still.)  Standing out on the road, we paused and she looked me in the eyes and said, "I don't know why I am feeling compelled to share this with you, but I am."  I conversed with her over the course of the next hourish.  She spoke of the last three weeks and miracle, after miracle, after miracle of our Father's provisions for their family.  She spoke of how her faith has increased and her ability to hear His voice. She told of her immense gratefulness for so many things she used to take for granted.  She explained how her heart had been permanently changed.  Her stories made my heart dance and my eyes leak.  Her stories re-inflated this soul.  

Thank you, my precious little sister, for allowing me to hear and see God working right here and inside of you and your family.  

Sometimes one needs to go topless to re-inflate, other times, one just needs a sister to stand under the stars with and recount how God is working. 

Until we Chat Again,

The Plank-Eyed Girl