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

The Plank-Eyed Girl: Field Trips; Rat Mazes; and an Authentic Alien

The Plank-Eyed Girl: Field Trips; Rat Mazes; and an Authentic Alien: I LOVE field trips!  Unfortunately, I am an adult and my job usually does not provide opportunities for this type of fun learning.  Th...

Field Trips; Rat Mazes; and an Authentic Alien

I LOVE field trips!  Unfortunately, I am an adult and my job usually does not provide opportunities for this type of fun learning.  Therefore, today I decided to "fix" this.

In preparation for this field trip, I had memorized the name of the one product I thought I would purchase.  Silly me, I thought this would be an excellent mini adventure to expand my "mid-life" world.  (Sometimes I worry that my lack of "adulting" with clothing, make-up, and desire for "stuff" has left me missing something.)  

Knowing very little about this foreign land that I was stepping into, I took

on the mantra of "Fake it, till you make it" and proceed to walk into this store. Shoulders back; head up; and boobs out, I stepped across the threshold, entering this new land as a "Makeup Immigrant." Letting out a long, slow breath, like a hippo getting ready to submerge, I meandered through the brightly lit maze of products with interesting promises. Almost instantly, I was aware of a silent audience.  They gazed at me from the peripherals, hidden between the tall glass columns which camouflaged their petite bodies and the rounds of products they were "tending" to. Their pale, precisely painted faces and gawking eyes turned toward this warm brown skinned girl with no foundation on and messy hair from driving topless. They were tracking each step I took with their darkly outlined eyes. (To say I felt like a naked,

over-stuffed rat in an experimental maze would be a slight understatement.)  Did I mention, I had even tried to disguise myself by "Doing my face" this morning?  Obviously, my camouflage was not working.

Less than three minutes in, I was completely lost and I could feel the tentacles of insecurity grabbing at my appendages.  One of the perfectly painted ones approached me asking if I needed

"directions"?  Turning to stare at her like a deaf goldfish, I turned and bolted toward what I believed was an escape, only to find myself surrounded by blow dryers and curling irons. Realizing I needed a better plan, I employed a tactic similar to what you might use to find your way out of the woods when you are lost. I located an outside wall and was determined to follow it out of this

maze.  Suddenly, I ran out of aisle and came face to face with the product I had memorized. (I'm sure this is one of the weirdest prayers I have ever muttered, but truly thankfulness poured off my lips.) Instantly overwhelmed, there were literally five different kinds of this brand of shampoo (this must be what men feel like when you send them for women's sanitary products), I grabbed the first one and resumed my journey to the front. Arriving at the register, I literally push

the bottle toward the cashier.  I can see the front doors and therefore am aware that escape is imminent. Thank goodness, I can feel congruent thoughts starting to return.  She asks for my phone and e-mail.  I decline and she looks confused.  Calling her manager for assistance, I stifle a giggle. This field trip has turned into quite a learning expedition.  The manager glides in and asks me for the same information.  Once again I repeat the, "No thank you."  A look of utter confusion slides across her dusted face.  She is frozen and speechless.  I flash a grin and wink at her. Assuring her that I won't be a "regular" customer, she finally, overrides this "feature" and rings up my purchase.  Her face is twisted into a confused expression. I literally can not contain my amusement and an unexpected giggle slips out causing her to stare at me.  I don't expect her to understand.  I don't expect her to approve.  I don't expect her to "get it".  Stepping out into the fresh oxygen, I collapse in a heap of giggles in the front seat of my little black thing.  Wowzee!!!  

It is now many moments later and here I sit with a cocktail of emotions and thoughts swirling around my heart over this expedition.  My mind is darting all over, like several squirrels on steroids. These thoughts are colliding and breaking into a million tiny pieces. 

The culture I am living in exalts the illusion of man made perfection and conformity in many arenas of our lives. I refuse to drink it in.   It calls and beckons to all of us. It tosses hollow promises of happiness and fulfillment in the wind and they drift by, as if carried on some invisible tray at a party that I should be expected to partake of.  

If you look "this way" or "do this thing" or "own this stuff" you will have arrived.  You will be happy.  Society holds these things up as the "Goal".  I, personally, have found this  all to be an illusion. Could it be that these things are really invisible   chains?

This same culture also desperately thirsts for freedom, authenticity, and joy.  Why else would you and I pick up and read the magazines by the grocery check out? We want to know truth; hear authenticity; and see happiness. We all know that most of that "stuff" in those magazines aren't true, but we just can't help ourselves.   We want REAL! It is obvious that I badly confused that poor cashier today by refusing to be part of their "club".  

Today, I took a nibble and today, once again, I walked away thankful to be an authentic alien just passing through on this planet.  If you are thirsty for REAL.  If you have an unconquerable appetite for joy and contentment, might I suggest that you turn and face your maker.  He knows you best and will show you the way out of the maze you are stuck in and the treadmill you are running on.

Until We Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl

Romans 12:2 (ICB)
Do not be shaped by this world.  Instead be changed within by a new way of thinking.  Then you will be able to decide what God wants for you.....

Psalms 139:13-15 (MSG)

Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
   you formed me in my mother's womb.
I thank you, High God - you're breathtaking!
   Body and soul, I am marvelously made!...
You know me inside and out,
   you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
   how I was sculpted from nothing into something.

The Plank-Eyed Girl: The Plank-Eyed Girl: Hijacked Feet!

The Plank-Eyed Girl: The Plank-Eyed Girl: Hijacked Feet!: The Plank-Eyed Girl: Hijacked Feet! : Perching like a miniature hummingbird high in a pine tree, I gaze out over the throng of women. This m...