Shadow Chasing Silhouettes

Feet securely tied into my memory foam, deliciously bright-colored cross trainers, I head onto the paved walking path.  As usual, this morning I am sharing it with a variety of precious ones that are over 76.  I must be an odd sight for their fragile eyes.  I often use this time to audibly converse with my Maker or to practice my vocals in worship.  This morning is no different.  

We have been doing this dance for the last 45ish days.  I tend to move a titch quicker than my path companions.  Therefore, I often pass them.  Early on I received a lesson in path etiquette. This early morning crowd has a variety of unwritten rules:  When passing someone going the same direction, turn to look them in the face and greet with a cheery "Good Morning!" Be sure to acknowledge their four-legged, hairy companion.  Those going in the opposite direction receive eye-contact and a "Morning!"  but no acknowledgement of their furry friends.  Evidently, if you get the attention of the animal, it darts in front of you just as you pass and you trip.  Anyway, I am only 45 days into this adventure at this park and I am sure I will be schooled in other rules as time goes on.  

As I join the "West of 76 Villagers," I check to ensure my earbuds are in and drop into pace slightly slower than a spooked mare. The words to "Oceans" audibly spilling like a waterfall from my lips. My hands take on a life of their own, expressing their gratefulness for the life ring that I am holding onto too.  I am absorbed.

Rounding the corner, I come screeching up right up behind a lady that doesn't seem to know the "unwritten" rules.  She is slow.  She is walking in the middle of the path.  Her hands are extended and she is completely unaware of the fact that she is blocking the path. Falling in behind her,  I remove my earbuds and become silent. An awareness overtakes me and I understand that her presence in my path is NOT an accident. Quite the contrary, it is a much needed gift.  I match her pace, being careful to stay behind her. Oddly, I feel covered and safe.  It is like walking with a friend under a large golf umbrella during a rainstorm. She appears to be oblivious to my silhouette that is chasing her shadow. She is praying and worshiping out loud.  My heart fills, like a sponge that has dried out in the sun and is suddenly submerged in a bucket of cold refreshing water.  I am carried into His presence.

Unaware how many moments have slipped by, I find myself very alive and refreshed. I speed up my pace and make a move to pass her.  Pulling up parallel with her, I glance in her direction only to realize that she is completely unaware of me.  Finishing up my walk, I feel compelled to wait for her and thank her for letting me slide in on her worship and prayer.  I wait.  I wait.  I wait.  She never comes.  

May we always be aware that all our actions have a ripple effect. Some, we will be privileged to see and others,  we may never know about.  Today, may your actions provide direction and life to those silhouettes that are chasing your shadow.  May you point them to the "Lover of Their Soul."

Until We Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl
  

Secrets to Swimming With a Shiver of Sharks

Sweet sun syrup drenching my skin. Laughter wafts through the air as frigid water explodes overhead and unexpectedly falls in torrents over the guests. Beautiful melodic languages dance between humans. Pure and simple delight abounds in this moment.

I am perched on the edge of a magnificent fountain savoring this precious moment.   I am being rocked into a trans-like state by all that is good and right around me.  I exhale.  My heart is full and I am content.

Like a loudspeaker inside my heart, my mind suddenly booms forth the fact that this is ONLY a momentary reprieve from the shiver of sharks that have been my constant companion these last six weeks. 

This has been a "season" of learning the secrets of swimming with a shiver of sharks. Some of the sharks are named "Disappointment", "Doubt",  and "Discouragement".  If you have never swam with sharks, you probably don't know that they circle their prey before deciding if and when to take a bite.  They can rough you up through their curiosity by bumping into you and knocking you around a bit before deciding to taste you.  They like the cover of cloudy water. Their mealtimes are the early morning or as the sun is setting.  

Unfortunately Disappointment, Doubt and Discouragement do the same thing.  I have found their feeding times are when I lack clarity and are either exhausted or not fully awake.  These past six weeks I have been repeatedly peppered with plans going awry; everything from canceled bike rides; to my car being hit and undriveable; to no trip to India in August.  The disappointments have been multi-leveled and have come fast and furious on some days.  During times of physical and emotional exhaustion, I have been stippled with doubts about who I am and what I am called to do. Often in the middle of the night, I have been awoken only to realize that I am securely tucked in by a blanket of discouragement at the realization of my circumstances. With each bump and blow from  this shiver of ravenous sharks, I have discovered three secrets.  These have allowed me not to be consumed by my predators. 

Suddenly, my camera captures "Flying Child". I hear my Abba whisper, "Watch her."  I follow her through my lense. Her initial reaction when the water first exploded over her was one of electrifying shock.  (Oh how well I know this feeling.) Seconds afterwards, a giggle erupts from her belly and she takes off flying. Her clothes are drenched.  Her hair is matted to her face.  Her lips are moving.  She has chosen to embrace this moment as a gift.  She looks as if she is singing. Instantly, I am aware that she knows the same secrets that I do:
#1  I am not in charge of anything,
#2  I can choose my response.
#3  I get to choose my heart attitude.

Then my Creator softly announces, "I chose this moment for her and I have chosen all of those unexpected moments for you.  I hold you in the palm of my hand and nothing can touch you except what I have orchestrated." 

May you embrace the unexpected difficult moments in your life with the realization that YOU are NOT in charge, but... YOU do get to choose YOUR response and YOUR heart attitude. 

Together, may we choose wisely.


Until We Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl

Zumba Dancing Filipino Grandma

Clearing security, my mind jolts awake to the realization that I need to locate a birthday card for "The Precious One".  Weaving through humanity, I locate a bank of cards and start perusing the selection. That is when I notice the clerk.  Trying not to have facial dysplasia, I continue looking at the selection while sneaking peeks at this fragile, Zumba dancing Filipino grandma who is the clerk. I can feel a gigantic giggle wiggling it's way up from my belly, but knowing that allowing it to escape would be entirely socially inappropriate, I manage to turn it into a mini coughing attack.

She approaches me and with a wave of her hand pronounces me "Strong!"  At first, my mind zings over and lands on the idea that this must be a cultural way to telling me that "I'm FAT!"  Ugh! My mind is screaming, "This is NOT what I need right now!"

I rise from the rack of card and look her squarely in the face.  Instantly, my heart knows that this was not what she meant.  We connect.  A lonely, Filipino elderly grandma, working on her feet to make her social security stretch and a middle-aged mocha girl off for a frivolous six day adventure before her vacation.  Honestly, probably couldn't be more opposite.

I turn the rest of my body to face her.  In her best broken English she says, "Your body is strong and that is a gift.  My body is weak and I am in pain." She smiles a toothy smile at me.  I can't help myself, I smile back.  We stand facing each other.  I can tell she is searching for more words.  I wait.  Reaching out my hand, I offer her money for my purchase.  She touches my hand and looks at me.  We are both women.  We both have different shades of deliciousful brown skin.  Our paths have crossed for these few seconds on this summer day.  

Methodically she counts back the change.  I accept it and turn to leave.  My heart yells, "Not Yet!" Quickly I turn back to face her, I hear the words leave my lips, "Thank You!"

Sliding quickly into the human freeway that runs north and south through the main concourse of this international airport, I rush toward the N gates. There is no time to spare.  I reach the plane and drop into my seat.  That is when my Abba whispers, "Remember, you are strong!  I am WITH you!"  

Arriving, I find "The Precious One" in a desperate state.  Once again, I am physically alone it feels like I am standing at the edge of a vast desert facing the Red Sea with no visible signs of help.  I am perched on a hard wooden bench at the edge of the golf course. Through a flood of prolific tears, I am crying out to my Abba for help. The sun is slipping over the edge of the earth.  I am unable to breath and have run out of "Puffs with Lotion".  Suddenly, the Lord reminds me of the Zumba Dancing Filipino grandma and her words to me.  Something loosens in my chest.  I rise from the bench; find the path and head back to "The Precious One's" house. Moments later, two neighbors appear on the path. They call to me.  I pause and we chit chat.  Turns out they have served with YWAM in Kona.  I LOVE how my Abba provides.  The conversation didn't solve the problem I was facing, but it brought me hope.  God knows what is going on and can be trusted to show up.  He is good all the time like that.  Trust me, I know....He does not abandon.  

Until We Chat Again,

The Plank-Eyed Girl

5My steps have stayed on your path;  I have not wavered from following you.  6I am praying to you because I know you will answer, O God.  Bend down and listen as I pray.  7Show me your unfailing love in wonderful ways. (Psalms 17:5-7 NLT)

* Six Month Reminder

1:25 pm Facial distortions were occurring as I zipped down the highway a titch above the speed limit.  Topless and absorbing every ray of the sun syrup, I didn't want to arrive at my destination. Every since the "reminder" had arrived a few weeks back, I have been blocking these next few moments.  The "reminder" had been delivered by parcel post in a simple, white legal envelope.  From the moment I picked it up, I knew what it contained.  My naughty side considered throwing it out and ignoring the "invitation to return". Deep down though, I knew it was pointless.  The Mr. would find it and ask me about it.  Ugh!

1:30 pm Discovering a lovely spot for the little black thing to rest, I allowed myself the gift of a sacred second to deeply inhale and truly feel these "pre" appointment moments.  Every thing about these moments was being etched in my heart with indelible ink. The question flew through my mind, like a banner behind a plane, "Did I fully live these last six months?"  Slowly a panic rose from the pit of my stomach.  Trying to calm the fear that was attempting to hijack my mind, I went into robotic mode.  My hand reached for the door; my legs found the asphalt and within moments, I found myself giving my name to the "Stoic, Female Keeper of the Schedule" behind the counter.  

Quickly, I was whisked behind a heavy set of doors and told to disrobe.  Seems like just yesterday I was here.  Repeating every verse I know about fear, I pushed forward.   Completely aware that nothing about these next few moments would surprise my Father, and even more aware that He was orchestrating my life, (Yes, even these moments) complete vulnerability swirled inside of my heart.  

1:50 pm having had a certain part of my anatomy tugged, squished, and pulled on like a piece of pink taffy for the last twenty minutes, the nurse coldly stated, "Get dressed, the doctor wants to talk to you."  Trying to find the humor in this moment, I look down and I am sure one side is at least six inches longer than the other.  Lord, hopefully this is just my point of view and NOT reality.  Chuckling, I emerge and follow the century to the office.  She points to a chair. I assume that means that I am to sit.  Like a well-trained dog, I perch on chair eagerly looking at her for some hint of the results.  

2:00 pm news delivered, the door to the office closes and I am momentarily left alone to digest the news.  Gratefulness falls from my eyes and I search for a tissue to catch it in.  The nurse returns and asks what's wrong.  I can't even find my voice.  Six more months and maybe longer if the spots remain unchanged - a gift that was hoped for, but not promised.  

Tonight I am more aware than ever that the one who thought me up and knows everything about me, has given me a six month stay and quite possibly more :) .  May I continue to to be surrendered and focused on His purpose and plan instead of my own.  May I choose to live with intention, grace, and His love as the anchors for each day that I am given.

Until we Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl

Rain Soaked Wild Topless Woman

Stepping outside of the building that held me captive and suffocated for the last few hours, I pause and take in the beautifully warm late afternoon air.  I feel like a prisoner released after twenty years of solitary.  Have I said how much I hate meetings? Practically sprinting to my little black thing, I quickly drop the top and jump in. Keys in the ignition, I launch off to take the long way home.  Only seconds into this journey, a seriously heavy black cloud descends on our little bayside town.  Like a hawk descending and following it's prey, this gray mass seems to be traveling with me.  Humongous  rain splats drop, like seagull plops, from the sky.  My heart sinks. My mouth silently exclaims, "ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?!?"

My 51 year oldness instantly tries to convince my 17 year old self to pull over; put the top up; and do the responsible thing.  Lord, everything is going to be soaked!  Fortunately, the 51 year old loses and I throw my head back in a giggle so inflating that  I feel like I can fly.  That is when I realize the nice looking man in the Mercedes next to me is gawking.  I am being completely drenched by this warm liquid gift and all I can do is think about how fabulously wonderful this is!    Something about this feels like a gift from my Father.  He seems to be saying, "Just breath!"

I continue on my journey home.  Scooting around the end of the bay, the little black thing hugs the road and flies like a hummingbird that's had too much fake nectar.  I pull into the garage severely damp but with a heart that has been given space to breath and feel.  How does my Father know exactly what I need?  I wanted the sun, but He knew I needed a good soaking.  I love that the one who thought me up and placed me in my mother's womb knows me so intricately.  

Today, I will trust that His plans for my life are best even when they are contrary to what I think I need or want.  Thank you Jesus for a topless rain-soaked ride! 

Until We Chat Again,

The Plank-Eyed Girl

Nuclear Missiles; Muzzles and Masks

 Tightly pressing up against the car door she presses her rosy smooth, cheek against the cool glass of the window.  Rain pelts the glass outside.  Clear hot liquid silently slips down her cheeks. Venomous words shot, like nuclear missiles, between two people she loves.  Like a village destroyed by war, her heart is being shredded by the shrapnel of broken and bitter words. Clinging with everything in her to the car door, she silently wishes for it all to stop. 

Like a helium balloon on the verge of explosion, sudden silence fills every nook of the vehicle. Surreal momentary silence fills the enclosed space. The voice of one that loves this eight year old pierces the silence and delivers a sentence that will alter her life for years, "Why are you so ugly when you cry?"

Words!  Ugly Words!  Destructive Words!  Words

that will be forever etched deeply in the mind, heart, and soul, like shards of glass.  These eight words will be her invisible muzzle for the next 35 years. These poisonous words instantly mix with a fragile, innocent heart and create a compound for the quiet construction of a protective mask. Silently, she places Superglue inside the mask and raises it up to her face.  Days, weeks, months, and years pass.  

At 2:05 each night while the house is silent and those she loves are sleeping, she gingerly allows her hand to slide up to her face and release the corners of the mask. She is married; Children are born; People she loves die, but the mask relentlessly holds for those 23 hours.  

In the 60 minutes each night without the mask, she breathes deeply.  As she exhales,  hot clear liquid forms a stream down her cheek and pools in the creases of her pillow.  Sweet release.  Like a dam that is open in order to release the pressure and prevent permanent cracks, her sorrow spills safely out and into the darkness.  3:05 am she silently applies another layer of Superglue and reattaches the mask for another 23 hours all because of those words that were hurled at her on that dark, damp night so long ago.

Words carry power.  They can destroy or they can create.  They can hurt or they can heal.  They can blame or they can forgive.  My words and yours are more powerful than nuclear missiles, muzzles, or masks.  Luckily for this Plank-Eyed Girl, my God has used His words to forgive me; heal me; and create a wholehearted being that believes in the power of words.  

May you be overwhelmed with the words He has for you.  May you in turn use the secret power of your words to bring life and hope to those whose lives intersect with yours.  Truly, your words bring life or death.  Choose wisely.

Until We Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl

Crazy Hair Day!

With gentle rain sliding down my zebra umbrella, I perch on my concrete post to greet students this warm Friday morning. It is "Crazy Hair Day" and unfortunately I did not have a chance to dye my hair purple like I had planned.  So, I gingerly stand on this  ninety degree corner with my back to the street and my face towards the classrooms.  

Like a start gun going off at a horse racetrack,  the bell blares over the intercom signalling the start of this school day.  Suddenly, from behind I hear this screeching female voice excitedly proclaiming, "Oh my goodness!  YOUR hair is the best!  What made you think to put spots in your hair?"  There is a momentary pregnant pause as I realize that this parent thinks I did my hair this way on purpose just for "Crazy Hair Day." I choose NOT to turn around. She continues past me and is visibly gasping for air as she is having fits of laughter.  It is then that my eyes meet a couple of my favorite fourth grade girls.  They have watched this entire scene unfold.  Like a television sitcom playing out right in front of their very eyes.

Instantly,  the three of us burst out in uncontrollable giggles.  Finally, the purple future fashion diva proclaims, "She has no idea who you are.  She doesn't know that your hair is ALWAYS like that!"  As the three of us regain our breath and stroll into the school, I put my arms around both of them; turn them toward me and softly whisper, "This Spotted Zebra likes you both just the way you are."  

Wowzee! The power of words formed by the human tongue. They can build up or tear down. They can praise or they can discourage.  They can heal or they can destroy. May you choose to use your words to make this world and those you meet better.  May you also know and celebrate the unique "YOU" that God, in His infinite wisdom and creativity, thought up.  "YOU" are His workmanship and He takes great joy in the uniqueness of YOU!

Enjoy the Giggle,

Until we Chat Again,

The Plank-Eyed Girl