Writing on the Walls; My Secret Addiction; and Untainted Truth

Picking up the permanent oil paint marker, I ascend the ladder till the popcorn ceiling is teasing my hair.  Pausing, like a lion about to conquer its prey, I perch and allow the anticipation of the first stroke to fully rise past the point of no return.  Without cognizant thought, my hand launches forward and the first stroke is applied to the wall.  Words appear in whimsical font.  Words stringing together into sentences that are important to my heart.  

I honestly don't know when this secret addiction with writing on things other than paper started, but it often overtakes me and I

find myself penning words on walls, chairs, tables, clothing, chalkboards,

globes, and pretty much anything that can be written on at all hours of the day and night.  It is my trademark. It is my way of conveying to the world the message of my heart.  How do you get your life message out to this world we reside in?

 

I used to think I was odd because of this writing addiction. Then I stumbled across a story in the Old Testament.  Seems God liked to write on walls also.  God reached through time and wrote on a King's wall with a human hand while the King and his party people watched. Talk about the ultimate in party surprises!?!  He interrupted their party to get their undivided attention and remind them of His sovereign truth regarding the items they were using to celebrate.  (I don't know about you, but that would certainly get my attention.)  He was warning them to stop their behavior; humble themselves; and return to Him. Unfortunately, the King did not take the writing on the wall seriously and He was dead by that evening. (If you want to read the story, it is in Daniel 5:1-30). 

What is it that God has made clear to you and you have chosen to ignore?  Maybe He hasn't written it on the wall, chalkboard, or chair but you know He is speaking untainted truth to you and you need to humble yourself and return to Him.  Why not stop right now and surrender.  He can be counted on to forgive and bathe you in His mercy and grace.  

Until We Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl

The Plank-Eyed Girl: Unexpected Invitation; The Power of the Nose; and ...

The Plank-Eyed Girl: Unexpected Invitation; The Power of the Nose; and ...: Stepping out of my little black thing and unfolding to my full height of 5'6", a wisp of newness gently swir...

Unexpected Invitation; The Power of the Nose; and An Unforgettable Fragrance

Stepping out of my little black thing and unfolding to my full height of 5'6", a wisp of newness gently swirls around my being.  It leaves as fast as it arrived.  

Ignoring this brief encounter, I return to gathering my supplies from the trunk for my sweet friend's birthday celebration. 

It comes again. 

Pausing for a moment, I feel the warmth of it's arrival.  Inhaling deeply, I smell a faintly familiar aroma.  My mind quickly scans through the rolodex of familiar scents looking for memories that align and tell me what is happening. Unsure that it is what I think it is,  I return to gathering my things.  This current season has been relentlessly cold, wet, gray and lingering. I have my doubts that Mr. Winter will ever leave this place I call home.

Like a long-time friend however, it will not be ignored. It has arrived and is ushering out Mr. Winter.  Slowly sauntering across the driveway, it

unexpectedly comes again. It playfully encases me in a warm, wonderful tornado of deliciousful scents. Warm rain; damp earth; and freshly mowed grass are part of this wonderful, swirling mix of aromas invading my nose.     Dancing an enticing tango, it invites me to join in the celebration of it's arrival.

Sun is warming the driveway and highlighting the perfect dance floor. It is an invitation

that only comes once a year. Looking around, there is no one else physically present. Accepting the invitation, I step into the sunlit space. Like a newly hatched Monarch butterfly, I clumsily twirl across the driveway. I swirl  in a tango-like display with the invisible "Ms. Spring".  Her scents have reached my olfactory glands and invited me to "remember" her looks and the gifts that she will bring.

As humans, we have been  equipped by our Creator with amazing senses to help us connect to the world around us.  Our sense of smell is most closely linked with memory.  This is due to the fact that the olfactory bulb, which starts inside the nose and runs along the bottom of the rain and has two direct connections (the amygdala and hippocampus)to the areas of the brain that handle emotion and memories. None of the other senses pass through these brain areas.  As I inhaled these Spring scents, my brain told me to look around for other evidence that Spring was arriving.  I had memories of other Springs.

Every life has an aroma.  Have you ever stopped to ponder what the aroma of your life is?  After you leave a conversation, what are people left with?  When they think of you, what fragrance do your words leave?    Does the fragrance of Jesus linger when you walk away?  I want the fragrance of my life to be one that leaves an aroma of His sweet unmistakable presence.  I long to extend the scent of His mercy, grace, and forgiveness to those that are hurting.   Like Spring swirled and twirled and invited me to join her, will you join me in pursuing Christ so we can leave His fragrance all over this planet?

Until We Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl

2 Corinthians 2:15 (AMP)

For we are the sweet fragrance of Christ (which ascends) to God, (discernable both) among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing.

The Plank-Eyed Girl: Thresholds; Invisibility Cloak; and A Precious Dov...

The Plank-Eyed Girl: Thresholds; Invisibility Cloak; and A Precious Dov...: Stepping over the classroom threshold, my body jolts to a halt. Like a hummingbird not seeing the sliding glass door, I am thrown up...

Thresholds; Invisibility Cloak; and A Precious Dove

Stepping over the classroom threshold, my body jolts to a halt. Like a hummingbird not seeing the sliding glass door, I am thrown up against an invisible barrier. Oddly, not one ten-year-old head turns to acknowledge my entrance.  Each young participant's eyes are locked on a particular student.  There are words being released into the air, but they do not reach my ears.  She is calling on individuals, but I am momentarily deaf.

Like a superhero, I silently draw my "invisibility cloak" around me and inch my way closer until I perch on a student desk.   My brain is telling me that I should quietly withdraw, but my heart is compelled by what I am witnessing.  There is an immense holiness to what is taking place in front of me.  

Today is this "Precious Dove's" last day with her classmates.  Like the

muted sound of a train rumbling in the distance, becoming clearer as it gets nearer; the spoken words  become  like well placed arrows to my ears.  Looking her in the face and affirming her place in this world, the students continue:  "I like the way you always hug me when I am sad."  "Thank you for reminding me to get my lunch out of my backpack each day." "You encourage me by how you persevere when things are difficult for you or you don't understand." "You bring joy to our class." Each student taking their turn putting words to their snippets of noticings about how she has touched their lives. 

She has been with this group of students since Kindergarten.  They have learned to understand her unique ways.  They have tucked her under their wings and protected her.  They have grown to appreciate her distinct abilities; happy quirky personality; and deeply woven gentleness.  They have walked with her through the loss of a sibling.  She has belonged to them and now it is time to bid her farewell.  Each one of them gently and sincerely speaks of her gifts and what she has meant to them.  Whether they realize this or not, their words of love and affirmation are weaving themselves into a protective blanket that she will carry with her for life.  Do these children know the power of what they are doing?  

Unexpectedly, warm liquid cascades down my cheek. I am wrecked.  Quietly, I slip back over the threshold and escape to my office.  This scene replays in my mind like a favorite song stuck on repeat. Their words soar around and deeply resonate in the chambers of my heart.  This experience has enough octane to change me; to change the way I live each day.

Words hold more power than we often consciously think about.  In the Old Testament, King Solomon wrote about the power of words in Proverbs.  He proclaimed, "Death and life are in the power of the tongue.  Words have the potential to produce positive or negative consequences (Prov. 18:20,21).  Words can bring life to a person through encouragement or death through gossip.  They can be that soft blanket of protection or a poison tipped arrow.  Only you have the power to choose.  These students chose well and they gave this "Precious Dove" a gift that will be with her for the rest of her life.  

I have to ponder how different our friendships; families; workplaces; and communities would be if we just paused everyday and used our words to point out one thing we appreciated in those around us.  A sincere compliment can change the trajectory of another person's day.  I want to be one who speaks life.  Will you join me?

Until We Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl

The Plank-Eyed Girl: Swimming in Riptides; Unfiltered View Master Reel;...

The Plank-Eyed Girl: Swimming in Riptides; Unfiltered View Master Reel;...: Struggling against an overwhelming plunging sense of grief and disappointment,  I make my way down the school hall sauntering slower tha...

Swimming in Riptides; Unfiltered View Master Reel; and the Gift of Presence

Struggling against an overwhelming plunging sense of grief and disappointment,  I make my way down the school hall sauntering slower than a constipated ant.  Pasting on an appropriate face, I enter the office and intentionally attend to my business.  Turning quickly to make my Houdini exit, I follow two five year old besties out of the school office.  (These are two little girls of different staff members.) They had just been reprimanded for not staying put in a classroom after school. Certainly not a life-altering moment for them.

My mind is occupied by the bits of information I just received hours ago. Mentally, I am swimming in a strong riptide attempting to get to shore.  Like the brakes of a car skidding to a halt only inches from the unsuspecting pedestrian, my feet freeze in mid-stride.  I attempt not to run over these two precious ones who have stopped just inches in front of me.  Evidently, they are unaware that I am there.

Instantly my head clears hyperfocusing on the scene in front of me.  One looks at the other and simply mumbles, "Can I hold your hand, my heart is sad?" Without hesitating,  her friend reaches out and locks fingers with her.   No questions.  No preconceived ideas.  No further explanation  needed.  Just an unhesitating response.  Slowly, they saunter down the long hall. Her friend not letting go.  No words are needed.  They are giving each other the "Gift of Presence."

Like a statue, I stand frozen.  What just happened in front of my eyes is what I need.  It's so simple.  It's so powerful.  It's so overwhelmingly easy.   Yet, often I fail to ask those who stand alongside of me for the "Gift of Presence".  I make excuses for them.  I don't want to inconvenience them.  I want to hide my own neediness.  I want to be perceived as being strong. Maybe I am alone in this struggle.  Maybe you are reading this and you easily say these words, "Can I hold your hand, my heart is ____?"  Somehow though, I have a sneaky feeling you are saying, "Me too."

What if we allowed our friends to pick up the unfiltered "View Master" reel of this last month and view it.  

What would they see?  What are the hidden pieces that could be transformed if we just asked someone to walk with us?  What if we laid down our pride? For me, besides the reality of His deep presence holding me and giving me breath, as well as joy, this last month has held the reality of life's fragility; news of more extensive surgery needed; life-altering confessions by friends; suicide attempts by precious souls I hold dear; and disappointment mixed with deep grief over what will not now be our reality?   It has also held untold joy and delight each day in so many varied ways.  

Why do we feel like we have to be strong; in control; and capable?  Why do we hide the reality of our complicated lives; grief; tragedy; and disappointment?  We are called to live in community and be His hands and feet to each other as well as this world.  Ephesians 4:2 says, "Be completely humble and gentle; be patient; bearing with one another in love."  In other words, take each other's hands and continue on this journey called life.  Romans 12:15 instructs us to "Rejoice with those who rejoice; and mourn with those who mourn."  I want to be much quicker to say, "Can I hold your hand, my heart is ____?"  How about you?

Today, know that my hand is extended to you.  I might not be able to be physically there, but I will hold your hand and walk with you and our Abba. Will you walk with me?

Until We Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl