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

Medicinal Pole Dancing

It stands there with life-giving fluids attached to "it" and "it" attached to my beloved.  I am grateful for "it".  However last night, after several times of unplugging "it" from the wall and allowing my beloved to use the facility or take a walk, I realized that all his tubing was twisted and entangled around the pole.  This required  my beloved learning some "new" moves.  Thus, was born the "Medicinal Pole Dance".  I wish you could have seen it.  Talk about making you laugh until you are gasping for air.  Watching my beloved, in a hospital gown, trying to untangle himself was hilarious.  We were both undone with fits of laughter to the point that the nurse had to come by to make sure we were okay.

Evidently she thought that we had had enough fun, so she brought me the medical "bathing towelettes".  Now if you have never had the pleasure of using these, you are truly missing out. So, with this new exciting opportunity in front of me, I dove in with unnecessary fervor.  I proceeded to attempt to open the first packet (picture a rectangular, adult-proof package of baby wipes).  It took some maneuvering, but I eventually won and was able to retrieve what I believed was the "wipe".  As I took this blue, quite porous, warm sponge-like rectangle, I proceeded to wipe the first leg.  Well, let's just say that it did not go well.  My beloved started to complain about the roughness of it in a rather teasing manner. I just figured it was designed for a little  exfoliation of the skin before surgery.  So, as I was scrubbing away on his leg, the nurse looked in.  I wish you could've seen the look on her face. It was truly priceless.  She pointed out that I should look further in the package.  So, with a snarky sigh, I used my catlike glance to peek in.  Well,  what did I see, but a SOFT, pliable, warm, thick, wet wipe.  We started laughing so hard that once again, the nurse stuck her head in.  Yikes!  I am obviously NOT the person you want to tend to you when you are sick OR...maybe I am?

Tonight, I am grateful for the shared laughter. Tonight, as I journey home, alone into the foggy, dark night, the sound of his deep laughter will reside in my heart, I will carry it to our bedroom, where I will allow it to play on auto loop until fall asleep.  Tonight, I will thank my God for the gift of these indelible moments.

Yes, God is good ALL the time to this Plank-
Eyed girl.

Blessings!
~The Plank-Eyed Girl

Crazy Crossroads

Confusion swirled around me.  I could feel the suffocation slowly creeping up my throat.  It was an unfamiliar place.  I tried to re-frame this moment.  I tried to rationally think back to other crossroads I have stood at.  I tried to make sense of the choices in front of me.  I tried to clarify what life would look like on each of these different roads. 

I was paralyzed.  None of the choices seemed to make any sense.  None of the choices seemed to be better than the other.  Even the choice to do nothing but stand there was a choice.  I felt the Lord directing me, pulling me toward the least likely of the choices.  It seemed insane, but I could not deny the voice of the Lord.

Crossroads are crazy places.  When you glance each way, you really can only  see so far and then you have to trust.  Sometimes crossroads occur out of nowhere.  You are skipping along and BAM!  Truth be told, I always get slightly angry when this happens.  My thoughts usually run something like, "WHAT?  Who has the right to put one of these in my path?"  Honestly, someone is probably just trying to keep me safe, but I am short sighted and bent on my own ways.

I have to wonder what Noah was thinking when God told Him to build an ark.  This was a divinely placed crossroads in his life.  Was he confused?  He had to be thinking, "God, are you crazy? Rain...what is rain?  A what? For what?  Are you serious?  You want me to live in this boat with all these animal AND my family?"  Noah had clearly heard the Lord.  So regardless of his doubts and fears, he turned at this crossroads and obediently walked down the path God asked him to.  He built the ark and aren't we glad he did?  

This past summer I realized I was standing at a crossroads.  To be honest, it torqued me off.  I had been skipping along, having a marvelous time on the Big Island when....BAM!  There it was, directly in front of me.  An unexpected crossroads. He was asking me to send "MY" personal, extensive

collection of children's literature to the Sideras

International school in India.  I wish I could tell you that I just said, "Well Lord, of course."  But I would be lying.  I spent several days presenting my case to Him and finding lame excuses.  Finally, I rather meekly whispered, "Okay."  I didn't understand, but I did know that I had heard Him.  Upon my return home, I started packing up the books to send.  

Currently, I am still in the process of packaging and sending them.  It is expensive, even at book rate. Therefore, I am raising funds to get them there and into the hands of these precious Indian children. I am finding that this "choice" is costing me time and money.  It is also costing me a dream. I had always thought I would write and publish children's picture books.  Evidently, God has another plan and just like Noah, even though it makes no sense, I choose to walk in obedience.

Sometimes we have to let go of things that we think are important to who we are and what we do so that God can do something bigger.  Are you at a crossroads with Him whispering to you?  Follow His voice, you won't be sorry.

I am Journeying With You,
~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

Spotted Zebra and Barbies

Standing up on the bleachers, I watched as a group of junior high girls caught up with each other from the week.  They were passionately engaged in their conversation. What caught my attention was their alikeness!  They all had their hair alike. Their shirts were all the same style.  Their jeans all the same brand.  They couldn't have been more uniform if they had tried.  Not one of them stood out.  As I watched their interactions, I was saddened by their "alikeness". Certainly they didn't ALL like this style.  I was deeply disturbed to think of  the pressure to conform that most of us feel when we look at T.V. or go to the mall and are pummeled with the expectations of others for our dress, actions, or any other number of things.   Sometimes I feel like I live in a Barbie and Ken world, of which I severely do not fit.

As I sauntered away from this group of young girls, my thoughts drifted back to my first years of teaching.  I was "gifted" quite a few long "themed" jumpers.  Evidently, that was the dress of choice for teachers at the time.  The first morning I silently slide into one. I felt suffocated.  (Not physically, just in my heart.)I looked in the mirror and laughed out loud.  However, I was not sure of the protocol, so I wore it to school. This initiation into "school dress" only lasted about one month.  I was TOTALLY miserable.  Long "themed" jumpers weren't me. Never had been me.  Never would be me.  In hindsight, I can't believe I ever thought it was a good idea for me.  One morning I woke up and thought, I can't teach in these things.  This is not me!  Where are my jeans and red cowboy boots? Where are my wild leggings and funky skirts?  Where are my pearls?  Where are my shiny combat boots?

   

As today wore on, I found my mind prancing back

to the story that I had just finished in I Samuel 17. David, who was a young shepherd,  had volunteered to go fight Goliath.  Saul gave David his own armor to wear and sword to use.  This way, he would not only look like one of the men in Saul's army, but he would stand out because Saul's armor and sword were bronze.  I am sure that Saul wanted to protect David, as well as honor him.  David tried it on, but quickly realized that he was not used to this armor or Saul's sword.  So, he did the only thing he knew to do and took it off.  Donning his regular attire, he went and picked up five smooth stones.  Those were his weapons of choice.  Those were the weapons he had trained with.  Those were who he was and what he was used to.

Recently, I was asked to lead a conversation at a women's retreat. I have some own favorite speakers, that I really admire. So, when I became stuck in the writing process, I started listening to some of their messages. That was when I found myself trying to emulate them.  Suddenly,  I realized that I could listen all I wanted, but I needed to be true to who I was and how God created me.  In other words, I needed  to unite my story with His story and share it with this group of ladies in a way that was unique to me. This was a realization that relieved much of my internal pressure. 

Uniqueness Rocks!  I have been a spotted zebra all of my life.  I have never fit in a box.  My solutions to things that block my path are usually completely outside of how others would think.  I do not dress like others.  I have a funny way of looking at life.  I was uniquely created by the Creator of the Universe.  

May you find your own uniqueness today and enjoy all that is you!  May others also see God's fingerprints in you and celebrate how fabulous and generous God is to have taken the time to "think you up"!

Here's to you!  You are not alone!

~The Plank-Eyed Girl

FB Life Versus Authenticity

FB Life versus Authenticity

Frustration mounted.  My head started to pound. My stomach started to swirl.  I wanted to pick up the phone and back out of the commitment I had agreed to.  At the least, I desperately wanted to take the easy way out and speak to an easier topic.  I was coming up empty handed with how to address the topic I was asked to speak to.  

So....I did what any other person would do.  I opened my ipad and started perusing FB (Facebook).  Normally, I enjoy these peeks into others lives. I delight in being able to stay connected through words and photos. However, today I seemed to be ultra aware that all these lives seemed "perfect".  Pictures were of people having fun.  Everyone seemed to be smiling and enjoying life.  It made me a titch crazy.   

Closing my ipad and continuing my wrestling practice with the impending topic, I glanced at the clock.  Yikes!  Only 14 hours and I would need to have something solidified.  Once again, my mind started to run for the door.  As it was rapidly reviewing my "valid" excuse list, something whispered to my heart, "Don't run.  I will give you strength and words."  If I chose, relief could be only a phone call away.  Ugh!  Why did I believe I was strong enough emotionally to do this? Deciding not to make the call I dropped into bed.  

Throughout the night, I flopped like a fish.  Odd dreams coursed through my head.  As morning neared, panic was rising, like a ravenous dog chasing a meaty bone. It was slowly suffocating any hope that I had of saying anything intelligent.  Desperately, I called out to my Father asking for just a tidbit of direction for this assignment.  As the first light of morning peaked through the window, I finally gave up. Struggling to my feet, I got myself up.  Grabbing something comfortable, I dressed and headed out the door to my local coffee shop. Maybe a change of scenery would release something.

Retrieving my nourishment and liquid, I found a table in the corner.  Settling in, I heard my Father's ever gentle whisper.  Inhaling and exhaling, relief washed over my mind and I audibly giggled. Catching myself giggling only made me smirk more.  I am such a silly plank-eyed girl.  Of course, He would show up and deliver.  When will I learn this lesson?  He NEVER abandons me and He ALWAYS comes through.  

Perched on my chair and sipping my lovely beverage; I let my fingers fly over the keyboard and bring to life the words He was speaking to my heart.  Words to His precious daughters. Words of authenticity.  Words of  struggle.  Words of  hope. Words that will allow my fellow sojourners to realize that they are not alone and we are all traveling together.

What is the Lord asking you to do that you are hesitant to accept?  Growth begins at the end of our comfort zones.  Why not accept the offer of His help and step out, trusting that He will provide everything you need to accomplish what He is asking you to do.  

Here is my hand friend, take it and together we will walk.   

Until we Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl

If you would like to share what the Lord is asking you to do, please either leave me a message or e-mail me at:  theplankeyedgirl@gmail.com 

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