Sloth Woman; Roller Girl; and the Power of Vigilante Red

Like a lost meandering sloth, I feel the afternoon slowly inching toward quitting time, but today it is not fast enough for my insides.     Internally, I am wrestling with an overwhelming sense of soul-sucking suffocation that has been present for a month. I am mechanically performing my duties.  

Glancing up, I see Roller Girl slowly sauntering toward me.  In her eleven years of

life, she has mastered the art of being bulletproof. She is smart, brave, funny, capable, wonderfully unique, and talented. Yet, she still feels alone and different in a culture that expects conformity.  

Approaching me, her eyes search mine for an invitation to chat.  I know this look well, she used it on me the second day of Kindergarten six years ago.  We have been riding this carousel together for six years.  I "get" her on more levels than she has any idea.  Yet today, the second to the last day of her elementary journey, here she is again. Aloofness is present and she is precisely choosing her words.   I ask her about graduation (awards ceremony). She shrugs and acts like it is no big deal.  I see other students walking around with family; leis around their necks; and other celebratory mementos of this event.  She stands in front of me with nothing. She has come to her "safe" place but is wanting me to use mental telepathy to know "all" of what is going on in that head of hers.  She makes an excuse and leaves.

In an instant, I know what I MUST do. The idea came fully formed and slipped under the door of my heart like a secret note.  I have come to understand that sometimes doing the unexpected is the right thing to do. So, picking up my phone, I call my hairdresser and make an appointment for the evening.  The sloth was gone and the spotted zebra was back!  

Arriving at the hair salon, I change into a black cape and slid into the chair.  Multiple times my hairdresser confirms that I really want to do what I am asking her. LOL!  (She didn't really believe me.)  Slowly, she starts the process.  Moments in she pauses and stares, but I simply nod in affirmation for her to continue. Several times she reminds me that this is "permanent" (for like a month).  Oddly enough, my mind is at peace with all of this.

Fifty minutes later, my hair is officially, "Vigilante Red."  It is bold.  It is fun.  It is radical.  I have been obedient to my Father's promoting and there is no other way to explain this deep joy that is welling up and causing me to bounce around like a bouncy ball.  As I drop the top of my car,  my giggles are audibly swirling through the air for all to hear. 

Wednesday morning, the last day of this school year, is here.  I am super excited to get to work. Sliding in early, I hide in my office.  School starts and my friend  retrieves Roller Girl.  I hear them enter.  Stepping out of my office, she freezes and our eyes lock. Her jaw drops open.  I stand as still as a statue with the grin of a circus clown plastered on my face. She squeaks out, "Is that really real?  Did you really do that?  Why did you do this?" Silence hangs thickly in the air. Seconds tick by.  Like a spark that suddenly catches fire, the realization made it's way to her consciousness. Rushing towards

me, I wrap my arms around her and hug her like a mama bear hugs her cubs. Moments slip by and she mutters, "You're the best!" I take the card I had penned and press it into her hands.  I have learned the power of paper and pen.  Paper is intimate and the written word is powerful.  Silently, she accepts the card, turns and floats out.  Pausing at the door, she turns and flashes a smile that I will NEVER forget.

The card holds my words of affirmation about who she is; my belief in her; and the safety that we will be here for her as she ventures on through her education.  Her grip on that card as she left tells me that the words penned will be guarded and held onto as oxygen for her soul.  She will be able to go back and re-read them over and over.

Yes, I changed my hair color to the color or her hair.  I became like her in order for her to thoroughly understand just how much I was "for" her.  I surrendered my identity to show how much I believe in her. This afternoon as she was leaving, she had my opened card tightly clutched in her hand. With one last hug, I watch her skip off the grounds and out of my sight.

In the shower tonight my Father whispered, "This is exactly what I did for you.  I sent Christ, as flesh, to become  "like" you, just like you became like Roller Girl. Just like you penned those powerful oxygen-giving words for Roller Girl, I have penned powerful, oxygen-giving words for you."   May I savor His penned words as much as Roller Girl savors mine.  

Until We Chat Again,

The Plank-Eyed Girl

The Plank-Eyed Girl: My Succulent, Silent Secret

The Plank-Eyed Girl: My Succulent, Silent Secret: As silent as a sleeping boa, I slide my secret into the bathroom drawer.  I am deliriously as  happy as a child with a secret stash of...

My Succulent, Silent Secret

As silent as a sleeping boa, I slide my secret into the bathroom drawer.  I am deliriously as  happy as a child with a secret stash of candy.  Every time I think about my secret, my heart dances and twirls. My secret is not wrong or sinful.  In fact, it's honestly kind of silly.  It is just that I don't want to share it with anyone. So, it is just my sweet secret for now. 

Adjusting the covers so that my cocoon is intact, my eyelids gently close sending a message to my brain that it has permission to go back to freely roaming.  

Like a confused grasshopper,  it jumps back a week, to a new secret place I've discovered. It is a secret place that my Abba and I visit together when the grief becomes too much. It is a real place, but it is another one of my "secrets".  

Having secrets makes me happy.  Maybe it is because they are something I don't have to share. Maybe it is because in this world of "tell all" and "show all" and "exposure,"  they provide a private connection point between my Creator and I.  It makes my heart happy to share these intimate and sometimes silly things.  

Another hour slips by. It is time to rise, but I am enjoying just allowing my thoughts to wander. I have many secrets.  Most of them are benign, but some of them are not. 

A single thought drops into my head.  It is like a pesky fly

that gets in the house.  I can't stop it.  It comes just close enough, to  disturb my peace but not close enough that I can extinguish it.  I have to wonder, is it wrong to keep secrets? Are all secrets wrong?  

In the Bible, Samson had a secret.  His secret was that his incredible strength was due to his uncut hair. He was told not to cut it or tell anyone his secret.  In a moment of passion and weakness he told Delilah. She cut his hair off while he slept and therefore he was without his strength when he needed it most. Queen Esther had a secret.  She was of Jewish descent. The same Jews her husband, the  King, had signed a decree to have killed.  She kept this secret until just the right moment and thus saved the Jewish people.  Rehab, the prostitute had a secret.  She had hidden the spies and helped them escape. This led to her life and her family being spared from death. In the end, her descendants became part of the linage of Jesus. These were all important secrets.  These were all good secrets that needed to be kept until just the right moment.

Still in other stories, a secret leads to destruction. Ananias and Sapphira lied about the amount of money they had sold their land for.  Each individually lied when asked.  Each dropped over dead.  Saul lied to Samuel about taking the "booty" after God had told him not to take any. So God removed him from the throne.  

God has secrets.  In Deuteronomy 29:29  It states, "The Lord, our God, has secrets known to no one..." God does not consider secrets to be right or wrong.   There are some things that others should know and some things they should not. He does consider any secret held to hide sin as wrong. Other than that, my concern should be how these secrets are used.

So, you want to know my secret?  LOL!  I bet you do.  This is it.  

Don't worry, I have other silly secrets.  Stay tuned for June 15th!  You won't want to miss it!

Until We Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl

The Plank-Eyed Girl: Forever Scarred and Forever Changed!

The Plank-Eyed Girl: Forever Scarred and Forever Changed!: As the white, sleek carriage I am riding in edges closer to Spokane, I am consumed by a sense of swelling deep inside my soul.  I&#3...

Forever Scarred and Forever Changed!

As the white, sleek carriage I am riding in edges closer to Spokane, I am consumed by a sense of swelling deep inside my soul.  I'm not sure why, but there is a craving rising inside my body. Before setting out, there was a ravenous hunger dwelling deep inside my soul. I had kept it fed but now I feel like it is about to consume me and we can not reach our destination fast enough. It is a holy, ravenous appetite. It is not an appetite for physically scrumptious food that can be consumed through my mouth.  It is like a pregnancy craving that can ONLY be satiated with the one item of its choice.  No substitutions! Today I am craving some holy, sacred time in His presence.

Arriving at the event, we slide out of the carriage and slowly walk into the building.  I'm slightly annoyed that I feel so fragile and not sure why.  I seem to have a magnified awareness of my soul's ravenous appetite.  I have to wonder if these friendly faces we greet along the way to our seats can see this.

Do they know how my heart longs just to soak in His presence through extended worship?  We look like outsiders and this makes me want to locate a spot in the back to perch and be chameleonish. 

A beautiful soul appears and informs us of our "reserved seats".  She walks us up to the second row and points.  Sure enough, there are "reserved" stickers on them.  Yahozee!  This beautiful soul lets us know that she will attend to any need we have.  As quickly as she appeared, she is gone.  I have a magnified awareness of my "guest" status.

It's delirious to be included as an outsider.  This is also one of the things I love about God's family. Truly, we are not outsiders in this place.  We are just family that they haven't met yet.  The gathering starts and His presence is overwhelming.  Yes, this is what I desperately need.  

I stand and drink in all that He is. I can feel Him filling my parched soul.  It is filling in all the cracks and saturating the dried soil of my soul.  I can hear Him and He is calling me forth.  I love lingering in this place.  His presence is comforting.  The music slowly dies down and the guest speaker (Pam Hart) takes the platform.  She too, senses that we are in an unusual place.  Words flow from her mouth like a pitcher of warm chai. I am lulled. My heart is full.

Like a polar bear taking its first dip in the frozen arctic waters, I

am jolted to reality.  I see the speaker point at me.  (Obviously, my chameleon tactics have not worked.)  All the ladies in this place turn to see who she is pointing at and talking to.  I can feel the redness creeping up through my neck.  I am sure I look like a tomato with a bad rash.  She starts to tell me things she believes God is telling her to speak to me (for those of you who have never experienced this, as well as those of us who have, it is an experience that is both bewildering and energizing - more on this in another post). Oddly enough, every single word is accurate. Then in one easy move, she begins to pray for me. She prays many things, but at the end, she prays for my physical body to be healed from the top of my head through my toes. (Hum.....how did she know the surgeon was pretty sure I was going to deal with severe swelling in my left foot for the next year.)When she concludes, I sit down and the gathering continues.  Soon, it is over. The redness is slowly fading.

We are now back at our hotel.  To be quite frank, I am beyond exhausted and I am going to slid into these high thread count sheets and drift off into a place of rest.  Tonight my soul and mind blend harmoniously together and His peace is my companion.

Seven am arrives and the deliciousful sun is shaking me from my tranquil rest.  Prying myself from the grip of these scrumptious sheets, I right myself and take two steps toward the restroom. Suddenly my brain clicks on.  WHAT AM I DOING??? Instantly freezing in my steps, I realize that I am easily walking. Slowly allowing my gaze to make its way down to my left foot, I gasp.  The foot is no

longer a strawberry colored, plump sausage with little piggies sticking out the ends unable to touch the ground.  It is normal color; toes touching the ground and

wiggling; and I am walking without the boot or any assistance.   Just to be sure I am seeing this correctly, I call to my friend.  She exclaims, "THIS IS A MIRACLE!" I'm sure she has awaken the entire floor, but honestly I don't care!  God has done a MIRACLE!!

Can I be honest?  I believe that there are miracles happening everyday around us and we just don't see, but something like THIS?  and to ME?    

I've been studying the seven miracles and the metaphors that go with them in the book of John. 
Today I read miracle #6 (John 9:1-41) with Jesus healing the Blind Man's eyes. The physical miracle for me is my foot being healed, just like the man's sight was restored.  The metaphor in scripture is we are sent  to share the good news with unbelievers.  The healing points to Jesus and compels us to tell others. The metaphor for me is Jesus healing my foot, and the words Pam spoke over me, compel me forward to even more passionately share my Jesus with the world.

Can I be honest? The words Pam spoke to me before praying  for me, are words that have been whispered to me by Jesus; spoken over me before by prophetic others; and were tucked deep in my heart.   But, I was afraid. I was afraid I was not "enough".  I was afraid that I was unqualified. I was concerned with many other things.  But, He reached through time and space and not only healed my foot, He called me His daughter.  NOW, I know EVERY time I look at my foot and see the wicked scars, I will rejoice over the healing and proclaim His goodness. I HAVE TO!  There is NO place these feet can take me to proclaim His love, that He won't be with me because I am His daughter and that makes me "enough".  

What miracle do you need in your life?  If He performs it, how will that change the trajectory of your life?  What will it take for you to realize that YOU are a SON or DAUGHTER of the Most High and YOU are more than enough!

Until We Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl

The Plank-Eyed Girl: Metal Spears; Boogeyman; and The Veil of Lies

The Plank-Eyed Girl: Metal Spears; Boogeyman; and The Veil of Lies: Before dawn even spattered the sky, I was completely conscious.  Truth be told, I did not really fall into anything remotely like slee...

Metal Spears; Boogeyman; and The Veil of Lies

Before dawn even spattered the sky, I was completely conscious.  Truth be told, I did not really fall into anything remotely like sleep last night.  For you see, one thought poked its ugly head through the membrane of my consciousness and implanted itself in the place where my thoughts reside.  It wasn't a foreign thought, for I knew this was going to have to happen.  In fact, I have known that this day was coming for over three months.  It's just that I'm a scaredy cat and I fear intense pain.  

You know those things that scare you?  The ones that make you bite your lip and plead never to have them touch your life?  The things that make you turn as pale as chalk?  I don't like them, do you? I hate having to face them.  I play all kinds of mind games to avoid them.  However, there was no getting around this one.  It's has many similarities to having a baby.  You know that there is going to be intense pain before there is any relief. There is simply no way around it.  The baby can't stay in or it will die.  Therefore, you have to resign yourself to the fact that this needs to happen. Today's scary event is similar.  I can't live forever with these sharp, needle-like

metal spears protruding from my toes.  They have to come out. There is no other way around it.  My mind has pieced together everything it thinks it knows about sharp metal; sensitive toes;  removal of objects from my body, and has come to the irreversible conclusion that, "This procedure is going to be painful and I would rather not participate."  My thoughts have been hijacked by fear and there is no turning them around!

Making polite small talk with the nurse, I position myself in the exam chair.  Unvelcroing the hard, gray

plastic prison that has held my foot captive, my foot is now exposed.  Idle, nervous chatter is exchanged between us.  What I assume as a "look of understanding" is exchanged between us.  We both seem to know what is coming next. She has more experience in this arena but is not offering any relief to my fear.  My mind can only reason that she is not consoling me because she knows the pain I am about to experience and doesn't want to lie.

Gently entering the room, like a cat not wanting to be heard, Dr. N. slides into position; pulls up the

x-rays; reaches in the drawer for the "supplies" and then calmly states, "Are you ready?"  I want to scream, "NOOOOO!!!" but instead I say nothing. My mind is screaming at me but I am overriding my bodily impulses and commanding my flesh to remain still.  Using the pliers...Yes, I said, "Pliers," he grabs the end of the longest metal spear and yanks.  I am stunned!  

I felt NOTHING!  He repeats the process on the pinkie toe.  Once again, NOTHING!  I don't understand.  Could it be that my experience and my knowledge base was wrong in this situation?  Could it be that my hijacked thoughts had no foundation?   Could it be that they were lies?  Why did I waste so much energy being afraid?  

This entire experience has got me pondering the subject of fear.  Where does it come from?  How does it become real?  How many times in my life have I let fear hijack an opportunity or my joy?  I had no pain.  All the energy and time I wasted worrying is gone and I can never get it back.  Hum...

Who remembers thinking the "BOOGEYman" was under your bed as a child? Here's my confession:  I would lie in the center of

my bed and cocoon all my covers tightly around me because I believed his arms couldn't reach me there.  Then, when I had to get up in the middle of the night, I would stand up in the middle of my bed and take a gigantic grasshopper-sized leap off the bed and sprint (I'm sure I held the record for the 25 yard sprint as a seven year old) so that he couldn't catch me.  I'm sure you are chuckling. Sounds silly now that I'm a grown up, but maybe we do this as adults now on a more sophisticated level?   Maybe that is what just occurred in the surgeon's office.

Here is what I learned: Fear is not real.  It is the by product of thoughts I generate based on imagined experiences and sometimes pieces of previous experiences.   Fear is a choice.  However, fear can produce a veil of lies.  Fear clouds my judgement. Fear  is a feeling that is derived from a thought. Fear is not the same as danger. Danger is real. Fear is derived 100% from my own thoughts. LOL!  Maybe that is why Jesus said, "Be careful what you think, your thoughts run your life." (Proverbs 4:23) He tells us 365 times in the bible not to fear.  Since He created us humans, wouldn't it stand to reason that He knows how we are wired?  He knows how paralyzing fear-based thoughts are?  He tells us to, fear not, for He is with us.  Not be distressed, paralyzed, or fearful because He is holding us up and will give us strength to continue. (Isaiah 41:10)  If I believe He knows all of this, then I should also take His advice and run to Him when my consciousness is being bombarded with thoughts of fear. As I say them outloud to Him, they lose their power and He replaces them with thoughts that are filled with hope.  

What thought is causing you to be filled with fear?  I would invite you to write it out or speak it out to our God.  He wants to replace it and bring you peace.

Until We Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl