Squash and Faith Blog

(Preface: I wrote this a few months ago while God was walking me through a place of  healing.  During this time, he  faithfully extended his hand to touch those deep places in my heart that needed the touch of abba, father. Wherever there is pain, it is an invitation for healing. Looking back in retrospect, I can’t help but marvel at what he has done! )

After attempts with a pair of tweezers and then a safety pin, a toothpick proved the tool of choice in cleaning the lint from the end of the blow dryer. The blow dryer had declared a rebellion mid-hair-drying process. It simply shut off and refused to reestablish service despite my profuse blowing in it in effort to cool it. So there I stood in front of the bathroom vanity, with wet hair, in my blue slippers, and a wrinkle creasing my forehead. And I began to think about life… Earlier today, my condo was filled with chaos. Or maybe it was my own head. A Trojan horse broke loose in the little townhouse. Ok, so not literally, but all kinds of problems crawled out of its belly into my computer. I was scrubbing the dingy bathroom. And the squash downstairs in the oven was screaming. That dang timer! Beep! Beep! Beeeeep! Shut up! Maybe it was the fumes from the mildew remover. Maybe it was the screaming squash. Maybe it was the evil deception of that Trojan horse infiltrating not just the computer, but my mind as well. So many thoughts. It didn’t get better. With the last smudge wiped from the bathroom mirror I went to look for a clean cloth with which to dust.  Next was the vacuuming. That high-pitched screeching of the vacuum didn’t help my already difficult thought processes. I schlepped the vacuum upstairs and then back down. At a very late hour I finally finished. I got in the shower only to be met with a dysfunctional blow dryer on the other side. The problem was not the horse or the screaming squash. Neither was it the permanently dirty tub that wouldn’t scrub clean no matter how much bleach and elbow grease I applied. It wasn’t the perpetual dust or the screeching vacuum cleaner. The problem was not the wet hair and the blow dryer that refused to respond to the “on” switch.

I think the problem lies in the fact that the longing inside is not driven toward a formulaic solution. Rather it’s the desire for an experience. Jesus is the answer, but not in terms of mathematical computations. He isn’t that last missing piece that fits into the final space in the puzzle. He isn’t the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. He isn’t the prize in the Cracker Jack box. He isn’t the trophy one wins through outstanding performance in a competition…that then accumulates dust on the shelf. He is so much more. When I limit him to these confines, when I seek after him in this manner, I meet disappointment and frustration every time. It is his person that I desire. And that person cannot be squished into a cardboard puzzle piece or shrink-wrapped in a box of Cracker Jacks without losing something, without somehow become small and commercialized and trivialized. I need to see the face of Jesus. I need, not an answer, but an experience. Not a formula, but an encounter. I need my life intersected by the person of Jesus Christ. So here’s real:  “Trust in the Lord with all of your heart, and lean not on your own understanding” .  My understanding tells me to protect myself at all cost…to immediately construct walls that will keep me “strong.” These are not walls so much as facades. The facades can appear so attractive. They are composed of positive attributes most of the time. You would see them as confidence, security, independence, determination, steadfastness, and tenacity. These are not bad things, you say. I know. And the tricky part of it all is that they are true things, they are qualities that I hold (not perfectly, not without wavering, but God has built these things into me). But these qualities were never meant to cover and protect. They are good but they can hurt us when hide behind them and use them to inhibit vulnerability. 

Do I allow those walls to stand erect, when I sit on the other side hugging my knees to my chest, letting the tears come and feeling the dampness of night seep into my skin? Do I qualify every declaration of pain?” I know that God is with me”…” I have a peace in my heart”…”God is faithful…He’ll see me through.” I’m not saying that I think that I should be crying on every person’s shoulder. (I mean, come on, give the lady in the grocery store line a break.) But there must be a place to let the tears come and not try to balance every emotion. Faith does not deny the difficulty of the circumstances I face…it simply declares the power of God in the face of the impossibility of those circumstances. True faith doesn’t live with one’s head in the sand. It feels and experiences. And at the end of the day is able to still say: “In Christ alone my hope is found He is my light, my strength, my song This Cornerstone, this solid ground Firm through the fiercest drought and storm What heights of love, what depths of peace When fears are stilled, when strivings cease My Comforter, my All in All Here in the love of Christ I stand” Have you heard the song? How appropriately it answers the stirring questions of my heart. He is my solid ground. How easily I find myself striving. Seeking. Searching. Trying so hard to have the right answer to every situation I face. Working so hard to have the right attitude and perspective…instead of resting. Trusting. Trusting that He is big enough for my doubts and fears. Trusting that He is strong enough for my weakness. Trusting that He is tender enough for pain. Patient enough for the process I must walk through. I don’t understand the complexities of life. They never have made sense to me. It’s so easy to get pulled in by the undercurrent of it all. To become deaf to all sounds but the screaming squash. I find myself getting rocked by the waves sometimes and salt blurs my vision.

Have you been there? One moment everything can be so clear. And the next is confused by the tumultuous waves. I want to be able to say: “When peace like a river attendeth my way, When sorrows, like sea billows roll; Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to know, It is well, it is well with my soul.” God is big enough for Trojan evils, stubborn mildew, screeching vacuums and lint-clogged blow dryers. He doesn’t get impatient. He’s not waiting for me to “get my act together.” He loves me in the middle of it all! Right there with the screaming squash!

Facebook Falters

Ok, so let’s face it. I’m pretty into facebook. It didn’t take me long to hop on the facebook train…and once I did, I was hooked. I check my profile daily. I look at people’s pictures and read their quotes. I do draw the line at all of the buttons, bumper stickers, pokes, and quizzes, but all in all, I’m certainly pro-facebook…a facebook advocate of sorts. But, dear friends, I must call you out on one small thing. I hope you’ll understand. There is one thing that makes facebook only slightly unbearable to me. It has to do with the status line. I’m convinced that there are a few classic offenses that facebookers commit in this status line, and I’m here to expose them.

Here goes:1. Alanis Morissette :” This is the girl that uses her facebook status to shoot world wide web daggers at all who cross her. She uses quotes like “[insert name] is wishing some people would @#$% off.” or “[insert name] is thinking certain people should mind their own business.” Everyone knows that she’s only addressing one person, but its against the unwritten facebook protocol to actually use their name. And approach them in person? That’s so two years ago. It’s all about facebook trash-talk now, and all of her facebook friends can see and send facebook messages to each other about the facebook fight that about to ensue. Monday morning in algebra, it’s all smiles, baby, but on the world wide web….it’s WAR!

2. Debbie Downer: This girl uses quotes from sad songs to convey her deepest emotions and feelings about her recent breakup. She changes her relationship status to single (*GASP* she’s no longer “In a Relationship with Johnny B Cool”) and everyone notices. It’s critical that she change her relationship status on an hourly basis…this relationship is turbulent and the status is ever-changing…heaven forbid someone think she’s “in a relationship” when really, “its complicated.” They see her relationship status and realize it’s really happened…the facebook breakup is the real thing. So she inserts a classic breakup song lyric into the status line, just in case Johnny B Cool wants to see how she really feels. He checks her status and sees “[insert name] is unbreak my heart…say you’ll love me again.” or “[insert name] is I can’t live if livin is without you.” A true facebook love story comes to an end…**SIGH**

3. Beer Belly Billy: This is the guy who makes sure anyone and everyone know when, in what quantity, and for how long he has been drinking. His status line frequently reads, “[insert name] is totally hungover from the five kegger he had last night.” or “[insert name} is so wasted right now." or "[insert name] is going to go get drunk tonight.” He didn’t really drink that much the night before, but it certainly sounds much more legit if he makes it sound like he was totally obliterated. Plus, the more he puts in his status bar about being wasted last night, the less responsibility he has to take for running around in a pink thong singing Britney Spears before vomiting profusely for the rest of the night in his friend’s parent’s toilet. If you were drunk, you totally keep your cool points….right?

In my book, these are official Facebook offenses. Please, please refrain from using these, or similar phrases in your daily Facebook escapades, or I will have to hunt you down and facebook status attack you (“Shawna is wishing [insert name] would stop using the status bar to insult her enemies and would just confront them face to face”). I’m Miss. Brooks and I approve this message.

The Gym

Ever since I was thirteen, I have been a member of a gym.  Big gyms, small gyms, in betweens.  You could say I’ve been around the gym block.  So I feel pretty comfortable saying that I have the gym culture pegged.  In fact, I’m a gym expert.  Every gym has their own versions of the same character.  Don’t believe me?  Read on, my friend, read on.  

1.  The spikey haired muscle man:  we’re most familiar with this character.  He walks in with sweats, gym bag on shoulder, biceps bigger than most people’s thighs.  (you know, arms so big that they can’t comfortably hang down by his side.)  He smells like a mixture of tanning bed and axe spray.  he struts (the long way) to the locker room begging, pleading for you to gawk at him.  His eyes scream, “I was never cool in high school, so I spent all of my time in the gym during college so someone would validate me by looking at me.  Please notice me.  I don’t have any social skills but I have great biceps.”  He may work out, but mostly, he gives fist pounds and spots to all his gym buddies while he pounds back his milk jug of water with his protein shake.  My pleasure is counting the blood vessels that pop out on his forehead during his ‘roid rage bench press set.  He melts at the sight of carbs.  He’s Superman, bread is his kryptonite.

2. The She-man.  We think she’s a she, but she might be a he.  We can only make assumptions that she has two X chromosomes based on the fact that she actually wears a sports bra to cover her massive pectorals (breasts??)   She enters the gym on a mission: to make the men look like little girls when they lift next to her.   No doubt her voice is deeper.  Like Mr. Spikey-hair, her skin tone is somewhere in between burnt orange and fake bake.  No weight machines for her…those are for pansies.  She’s a pro.  Give her a weight bar and free weights.  She adjusts her black weightlifting gloves between sets, daring the men to ask her for the weight bench.  My pleasure is watching the men shrink away in her presence.  Her kryptonite: the Zumba teacher.

3.  The noon-time regular.  He’s 76 years old, and he’s been coming to this gym every day at exactly 12:00 noon for sixty years.  He complains because the music’s too loud and the machines are too high tech.  He likes the third treadmill on the right…and he’ll wait for it, even if it means staring at the person who’s on it for thirty minutes.  He insists on watching the news on the mounted television and will go home if the TV isn’t working.  His workout attire?  White undershirt, v-neck of course, shorty shorts from his 1930’s gym class, black high socks, and some version of all white Reeboks.  He smells like grandpa’s aftershave, his legs a lovely shade of hairless ivory.  My pleasure is watching him do his air shoulder presses and bicep curls with imaginary weights as he walks at 1mph.  His kryptonite: the second treadmill on the right.  

4.  The newbie:  You spot this one from a mile away.  She’s made a new resolution to venture into the gym for the first time.  She wants to fit in, so she went and bought a coordinated Nike outfit with $200 shoes and an iPod to match.  She gazes timidly at the machines, praying she can find one that she can navigate.  She settles on the elliptical.  She begins her strides and gains confidence.  ”This is easy”, she thinks, and she checks your speed so that she can one-up you.  Five minutes later she’s in near cardiac failure.  She quickly scans the gym to see if anyone will notice she’s only been on the machine 6 minutes before she retires.  She ventures into the weight machines and settles on one, only to fumble with the weight pin and the seat adjuster.  She has no idea what she’s doing, but she prays that no one notices.  She quietly sighs and resigns to the mats to do some crunches before stretching and heading home.   My pleasure is watching her sit backwards on the lat pull down and still try to do it.  Her kryptonite: the She-man.

5.  Dr. 90210 trophy-wife:  Oh you know her.  She comes to the gym to be noticed.  At most, she wears a sports bra and spandex shorts, hot pink of course.  Her body a mix of Heidi Klum and Pamela Anderson, she walks the gym, chest pushed out, stomach sucked in, hair and make up perfectly applied.  It’s unclear if she’s going to the gym or to a nice dinner.  She hops up onto the treadmill and men stand paralyzed.  She eases into a trot, but shockingly, nothing jiggles or bounces.  Her pony-tail is a perfect pendulum, sending men all around into a trance.  She’s the perfect mix of botox, silicone, and great genetics.  She pretends not to notice, but secretly basks in the glory of the attention.  She doesn’t lift weights…the 8 carat rock on her left hand is enough to carry on its own.  My pleasure is watching men think of ways to walk past her without being obvious.  Her kryptonite: sweat.

It’s true my friends.  They exist in every gym.  Test them out.  Leave your own versions if you have them! 

Ruminations

Squinting my eyes to prevent the assiduous barrage of sunlight from piercing through my shades, I hobbled out of my car onto the sidewalk littered with ducks and unsuspecting pigeons that would soon experience the wrath of my heels. After accidentally flattening a pigeon, I became enveloped in a dirt-storm which soiled my dress as the pigeons unashamedly flapped their dirty-little wings into the dust of the Earth. Ok, I am being facetious however I still can’t figure out why in God’s green earth we need pigeons. All they do is poop, poop, and did I mention poop.

Spontaneity and producing ideas on a whim has seemingly become my specialty. Today, I found myself perched against a tree happily observing a pair of senile squirrels. This ridiculous duo could be seen chasing each other up the tree as squirrel # 1 was ferociously chasing Squirrel # 2 with such vigor that I was sure one of the two was going to keel over dead from shear exhaustion. Soon, I noticed the object of their affection was Squirrel # 1’s nut… Now, you would think this nut was the last nut left on planet earth the way this little fellow was coveting its comrades winter stock-pile. Why couldn’t squirrel # 2 just get another freakin nut? He was either a) retarded or b) had total disregard for the plethora of nuts at his very feet..How could he miss it when the very thing that he was seeking was directly in front of his face? How many times are we as humans just like stupid squirrel?

 

Gently sliding my toes out of my brown boots, I sat with my feet pressed into the blades of greenish-brown grass. Finding myself elated by the smell of fall, the rich aroma of baked goods permeating the air from an adjacent mom and pop restaurant, the hues of color illuminating the sky like a velvet tapestry, and the swishing trees dancing in the arms of the wind- I dangled my freshly-painted toes upon the surface of the water which created rings that rippled softly at feet. My reflection was all too common as I peered  into the rings which beheld my face in nature’s perfect frame. My image was lit by the reflection of the sunlight as it skimmed the top of the water creating a soft sparkle as it danced off the corner of my eye. Taking in the delightful fragrance of fall, I couldn’t help but think of the image set before me and how familiar it had become. How often do we become trapped living in the land of familiarity and never venture past boundaries that hold us back from walking in all God has for us? 

Lately, the dreams in my heart have been like unwrapping an early Christmas present but unfortunately I have only ripped off the top layer. I sat ruminating over all the things that have hindered that dream from becoming a reality. I have a dream; and this dream cannot be shrink-wrapped into a tidy box or sealed with a neat bow. This dream is one that assiduously requires the heart of a warrior. I don’t know if you have ever heard about border police, but I sure have. Sure, you know them too. They are those people whose sole purpose is to squelch your dream from becoming a reality by placing constraints upon you. Now, I don’t mean that these people believe they are ill-intentioned however they often act as glaring red lights hindering your road to the promise land because they  keep you in the land of “comfortable”. Then you have those “GREEN light” providential relationships that you NEED in order to fulfill your dream-these individuals support your desire to step out of the box of “comfortable” and into the realm of uncertainty to pursue greatness. They have the ability to see past your circumstances, help leverage your time, and draw out your potential. (Thanks Jessica Knight, Erica Ambrose)

Have you ever been sick of the mundane? You know what I mean? The waking up every morning just to brush your teeth for the 10 billionth time as you peer into the mirror to praise God that the wrinkle encroaching upon your forehead hasn’t gotten any bigger. Then you proceed to your job to do the same thing as you you did the day before? Sometimes, I think we need to splash water on our faces, wake up, and gain a new perspective. It is so easy to get caught up in going through the motions that we don’t even realize the detriment that it is having upon our souls. We were created for an amazing adventure with our creator but how often do we reduce that relationship to just reciting a nice “bless me” prayer and going to church on sundays.  That void of companionship can only be fulfilled through the confines of intimacy-just like any other relationship. Don’t just go through the motions and forget that life is supposed to be a JOY and filled with love. I don’t know about you but I think it is high time we all bust those constraints and break free from the monotony of it all. Even if it is just “purposing” in your heart to experience one new thing a day that you have a passion for. Recently for me it has been sitting down at my keyboard and attempting to make music, photography, being spontaneous, hiking, and making it a point to think positive even if the surrounding circumstances don’t permit it in the natural. Life is too short to look back someday when you are old and grey and say the old adage” coulda, shoulda, woulda…. Don’t look back on your life someday and wish you would have stepped past those border zones and police holding you back. 

In the meantime, become intoxicated with life and love. Experience the richness of fall. Take a whiff of the leaves as the cool fall air intermingles with the warmth of the passing summer. See things from a new perspective. Enjoy the beauty of God’s creation- the knotted bark, blooming flowers, the dried browning leaves, the hole in the rock that indoubtably houses a family of red ants, the squirrels fighting over that stupid nut.

Walking back to my car, I noticed a rotting orange peel filled with tiny bugs, a dead leaf with holes scattered throughout with the veins still visible to the naked eye. Although I was staring at death, I remembered that life was all around me. The decaying orange peel and dead leaf only served to remind me that even in death there was life -as evidenced by the tiny worker ants bringing home food that would sustain any entire colony..

The Storm

KA-BOOM!!!!! FLASH! Light pierced into my room and danced upon my weary eyelids. After entering into my first REM cycle, I was loudly awakened by a violent storm thrashing the wood panels against my window. Electricty radiated the air as the lightning darted through my window with such brilliancy that I was sure it was the second-coming of Christ! Ok, Jesus I’m ready!

Crack! Bang! Thud! Ok, I’m officially up now, what was that? Stumbling out of bed in a sleepy malaise, I made my way over to the window.( Completely neglecting the fact that standing next to a large window during a lightning storm wasn’t the brightest idea.) Crinkling my toes against the ledge, I tried to ascertain the origin of the loud thud that smashed up against my window. ( Visibility was non-existent as thick torrents of rain  came crashing down from every angle. Squinting, all I could discern was a small spider on the other side of the glass grasping onto it’s web for dear life. Don’t these things come with windshield wipers? Hmm. Maybe I should invent that… er not.. The rain came down in a series of waves ripping tree limbs and throwing them around my porch like helpless rag-dolls.  As my eyes slowly acclimated to the darkness of the room, my eyes lit up with every flash of lightning.  Pressing my nose against the window pane for a better look, I started to regain my senses from the sleepy stupor I found myself in and realized that maybe it wasn’t the brightest idea to sit so close to these “bolts of death” being rained down from heaven. Sliding the blinds open, I  let out a loud scream as my neighbors cat(whom I affectionately call Snickers) began hissing and pawing ferociously at my window. (maybe I should name this cat satan..(just for tonight).. Honestly, I sat thinking “Dude, if you break my window, you’ll be one sorry kitty.” Yes, I wanted to be a good Samaritan and bring this poor helpless creature out of the rain however I also cherish my face and wanted to keep that intact for at least a few more years.. So, I prayed that it wouldn’t get electrocuted and went back to my business.

Back to the storm- how often do we find ourselves in the midst of a violent-raging sea instead of  resting in the calm-still waters? How often do we lose perpsective causing us to spiral into a sea of fear and forget that God has given us an expectation of promise and hope? Inching back onto the rug and hugging my knees to my chest, I found myself pondering the storm. Not the literal storm shaking the external world  but the storm that rages around us for our life, and purpose. A feeling of meekness came over me as I watched the storm rattling the outside world. It’s power amazed me and forced me to my knees. I can’t fight these storms alone can I God? Their strength is simply bigger than I can handle in my own humanity.  Then, a gentle  voice spoke to me in the midst of the chaos. Peace be still, my child. Fear not, for I am with you. Immediately, I knew it was the voice of the Lord comforting me in the storm.  Glancing over at the clock, I realized that it was past my bedtime( twleve’oclock) so I dragged myself into bed again.  

Closing my eyes to sleep, it was hard to ignore the presence of the storm and the lighting that danced on top of my eyelids with every crack of thunder. God wanted me to be restful-still. Could I do that? Could I rest assured during the waves of life that so often seem to pull me beneath the undercurrent? There wasn’t a choice, I would have to. I would have to find a way to rest during the storms of life and not occupy those seasons with doubt and unbelief in regards to the promises God.

 The rain quieted down and slowed to a mere trickle as it hit the water-drain below the wooden roof. Pitter, pat, pitter, pater, drip, drip, drip. Silence. The storm ceased and the silence of night once again filled the room. All I could reflect upon was the peace in knowing that I made it through the storm. Others will most assuredly come, however I know where my peace finds it’s dwelling place. Life in perspective breeds a greater reality; that the reality of the storm raging in the external pales in comparison to the peace of God residing in the internal.  Like anything else in life, storms are only for a season. When the rain subsides, the sun will always rise again.

Awaken

DING-A LING!!!! DING-A-LING!!! My cell-phone alarm clock began buzzing this morning at 3:30 am! There must have been a mal-function causing it to rattle my right eardrum which scard the living day-lights out of me.  I often sleep with my phone next to my face just in case someone should have an emergency and need to call. Irritation prevailed as I began to think ”who the heck is calling me at this crazy hour?” Wiping the sleep out of my eyes and dispelling a large yawn, I grabbed my phone and quieted it’s loud rants. Drifting off into dreamworld, I tryed to re-capture my dream which was abruptly ended by the glaring sound of my cell phone. Think, Shawna, think…What was I dreaming about? I remembered hiking down a mountainous ravine to a cool brook with colorful butterflies dancing  all around. Staring at the crisp water, I rinsed my hands off as they were soiled from a long days walk.  I was lost? I guess if one was to get lost this was the place to do it; it was absolutely breathtaking and I had not a care in the world. Peering down into the glassy reflection of the brook I heard it again- DING-A-LING!! DING-A-LING!! That dang alarm clock, I thought I had turned it off?!

At this point, I contemplated throwing it out the window but remembered that I didn’t have insurance on it so I had better not. CLICK, I turned on the light to ascertain what I was doing wrong in my attempts to shut this alarm off. Maybe I was just groggy and couldn’t find the off button thus turning it on again. Phew! I found the off button and quickly silenced the wrath of my cell-phone. It was way-way to late for this kind of interruption when my dream was entirely too pleasent. Back to the Rockies!! However this time, I couldn’t take myself back to the lovely dream I was having before but instead found myself in the darkness- vulnerable and alone. Or was I? Maybe this was an interruption from God to spend time with him. TE-HE, I hadn’t thought about that aspect, only the possibility that my cell-phone was deluded and wanted to throw it clear across the room in an attempt to silence it’s loud chirps.

So, I wrapped myself in my sheets and couldn’t close my heavy eyes if I wanted to. CLICK, I turned the lights on again to find my fluffy pillows that had fallen off of the bed into a messy pile on the floor. CLICK, the room went dark as I tried once again to fixate my mind on the quietness of night. This time, I felt a prodding from the Lord. WAKE UP! Pray, spend time with me. haha, ok Jesus!

During the busyness of life, we can get so entirely consumed that we forget to spend time with the one who walks with us through the busyness. Spending a few precious moments with the Lord, I was able to fall asleep like a baby and slept peacefully throughout the rest of the night. Sometimes, I believe he allows these little interruptions in our lives to wake us up both literally and figuratively.  Afterall, that has been the cry of my heart lately, “Lord wake me up and afford me the courage to walk in everything you have for me.” For about a week, I have been meditating on the verse ”Awake, awake o’ sleeper and rise fom the dead and Christ will shine on you.” How often do we find ourselves sleeping when God is asking us to arise to our calling, destiny, and purpose? How often do we find ourselves dead to the things he is trying to resurrect in our lives?

Maybe, this is a call to all of us; WAKE UP O SLEEPER! Turn off the interruptions of your day that hinder and come to Jesus. Only he can awaken the inner desires of your heart and show you the answers that you cry out for.

Bedtime Stories

 One of my favorite things in this world is bedtime or that hour before bed when you unwind, set your thoughts at rest from the busyness of life, and reflect upon the fact that the Good Lord gave you breath for another day. Wrapped up snuggly in the warmth of my massive fortress of blankets(one of which is duvet and down feather, I might add) my weary eyes traced the CRINKLED pages of my book, “Strengthen yourself in the Lord” by Billy J. (So, I would like to say that my book became crinkled because I read it over and over again to glean from it’s wealth of knowledge however in actuality I dropped it into the bath tub while trying to multi-task.  I guess beauty and brains wasn’t working out too well for me because I was trying to exfoliate my pasty white legs with this new Aveda super-scrub(complete with seaweed extract!) and PLOP…..goes my book… So, forgetting about my half-exfoliated legs, I dashed out of the bathtub (water cascading down my legs forming a small lake at my feet) tripped over a floating pumice rock(foot exfoliant) and feverishly started blow drying my Billy J book. All I have to say is “Thank God for technology and Erin’s ridiculously powerful( could probably dry up Lake Tahoe hairdryer!!) I was fuming… Satan…O’ NO you didn’t mess with my Bill Johnson book.”  Phew! I managed to salvage the majority of my book after blow-drying for roughly 10 minutes.  Wiping soap-suds off  my forehead, I took a deep breathe and slowly thumbed through the damp pages again to reconvene my reading… BTW- You probably should read this book if you haven’t already because it has some  “seriously” GOOD WORDS in there!!

Back to my caccoon of covers- Sitting beneath the warmth of my blankets and sipping on my still-steaming pear tea, my mind began wandering to mini-me. As silly as it sounds, “quiet-time” has always been a favorite pasttime  of mine.  As a child, I  read my bible or whatever book caught my attention and securely tucked myself into my bed sheets and disapeared under the thick-cushyness of my bedspread. My dad used to joke that he would have to file a missing children’s report due to the fact that I was seemingly lost within the confines of my bed. Not only would I tuck every arm-leg-hand and body part under my covers but I cleaverly concocted a stuffed animal FORTRESS to protect me from the evil creatures that lurked under my bed at night.LOL..(Remember, I was a kid and had a VIVID imagination) Come on, you know you had your bankie or stuffed doggy too!

Each night, I would position all my animals around my body and grasp my glow worm tightly between my little fingertips. If trouble came, I would be ready.. Looking back in retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have watched as much ALF before bed because all I could picture was that mid-size, brownish red ”plush” alien coming into my room. Now why I would be scard of ALF, a tv-inspired alien that looked more like Teddy Ruxbin than a fiersome creature from another world, I don’t know…. After praying and drifting off to sleep, I would rest secure in the hands of God with my glow-worm nestled firmly against my hip” Do you ever wish you had the imagination you once had as child? I sure do! Childlike faith was displayed at it’s finest because I knew if ALF tried to stir up trouble, I could simply take him ”out” with one single flash of light from my glow-worm. I guess it was something about the light that made me feel safe, secure, and protected. Ironically, what a beautiful parallel of our relationship with God. He is the light of the world and shines light into our dark “rooms” of life. How awesome that he penetrates the darkness and protects us from the things that try to envoke fear within our hearts. 

In retrospect, it is a story that makes me laugh. Come on now Shawna, ALF under your bed, really? Silly me…

GOODNIGHT ALL. Guess I don’t need that glow worm anymore; I have the light of the world on my side and he is available 24/7!! Thank God for that =)

Flicker

                                                                 

 

 Soft billows of warmth surround me like a cloak

Sheaths of deception splinter in the wind

His presence clothes me like a shield

Hungry, filled only by his light

Light of the world, come fill me

Tear apart my graven images

                                                                heal me in the night

                                                             TASTE, SEE, HEAR

   Sweet honey, oil of gladness

Soak, soak, soak into my skin

  Holy fire this is what I desire

Darkness fades to light

                                                                Penetrating the fight

                                                                Flame of light ignite

                                                                    FLICKER

             BURN BRIGHT

 

 

Dancing with Pink Flamingos!

Dancing with Pink Flamingos!

 

 

 

Spinning around in my little ballerina skirt with pink tights made me keenly aware of my body’s graceful movements and the confidence I once possessed as a dancer. Dance develops a certain poise that can only be won through rigorous workouts at the dance bar and the instructor sweetly reminding you to keep your head out of your chest and buttocks squeezed firmly into your “tights!”

I took great care in strapping on my ballet shoes strap-by-strap and making sure to tighten every loose tie. “Tighten the bows” I gleefully said-”tighten the bows!” I didn’t want to relive a memory I had in the Nutcracker and trip face first into a group of mice all because I didn’t learn how to tie a bow in kindergarten! Let’s put it this way; I was petrified of getting onto that dance floor again however my feet came alive beneath me as I pranced out onto the floor.

Tugging my skirt to ensure that it was completely covering my derriere, the classical music echoed from the sound system. “BAR GIRLS, BAR,” said the impatient instructor. Plie, rond de jambe, tendu, first position, second position, tendu, plie… Phew! Glad I ate my wheaties this morning! With my arms firmly planted in second position, I held onto the bar for dear life. Out of the corner of my sweat filled eyes, I noticed the instructor staring at me like I had a piece of spinach in my teeth. Pleading with God was my best bet so I prayed feverishly that she wouldn’t come over and tell me ” your arms look like a flamingo”….Plie, tendu, plie, OUCH! (whoops, forgot I had that muscle)…..Straighten up girls, chin up, shoulders back, neck tall. Ok, so remember that flamingo, I was sure if I didn’t look like one before, I sure as heck looked like one now! POINTE YOUR TOES, BUTTS GIRLS BUTTS!! Now I have to admit, by this point in time I had to release a coy chuckle because all I kept hearing was BUTTS, BUTTS, BUTTS! Suck in those butts!!

Back to the flamingo- The contortions I was placing my little body into were a far cry from the moves I could do as a young girl. I found myself looking into the mirror and wishing my leg could reach the sky (like it used to) and my butt would remain neatly tucked into my tights… However, I realize that everything in life is a process. I worked hard as a young girl to attain the flexibility and agility I once had and it was achieved over TIME. Similar to this walk we call life; each step requires movement and forward transit. Without it, we are standing still, complacent, and unchanged.

Breathing heavy as I stared at the wooden floor beneath me, I firmly grasped the bar between my fingertips and attempted the impossible. Inch-by-inch, I pushed my toes up to pointe and fully reached my tippy toes!! I DID IT, I DID IT!!! After years of wondering if I still had it in me, I mustered up enough courage to stand up on my toes (without crying, I might add).. A newfound confidence enveloped me as I squared my hips and held onto the bar. With my head held high, I turned to the mirror to see my form. NOT bad, I thought.. Slowly lowering my body to the ground, I noticed my right toe throbbing with pain… Ok, so maybe I should have given it a bit more time however it subsided as I walked to the middle of the dance floor.

The instructor developed a sheepish grin and announced that tonight there was NO choreography planned for floor work. GULP! I knew what was coming next; she wanted us to spend a whole minute all-by-our-lonesome and dance interpretively to the music. BIG GULP (like bigger than the circle K one)… Dear Jesus-help me father! First night back and I am cast out of my comfort zone into the middle of the floor “interpreting” some Tchaikovsky piece… Riiiiiggghhhttt… and all I could picture was that dang Flamingo!! I don’t think it helped that I had pink tights on and pink leg warmers scrunched up around my thighs! HAHA, in all seriousness, God has been PUSHING me straight out of my comfort zone lately and I’ll have to admit I sometimes want to run for the nearest door. I am honestly beginning to think God was smiling as he put those images of dancing pink flamingos into my head. =) chuckle…chuckle. AHEM

Standing there “thinking-way-to-much” about what to do next I got PUSHED onto center stage! PUSHED,(ha ha God-ha ha) Taking a deep breath, images flashed into my mind like a photograph. I was taken back to my first dance recital; I was four but could still remember the smell of the stage, the bright neon lights overhead, and the crowd cheering our every awkward-four-year-old move. Memories came flooding back of competitions and the time I stood on pointe for the very first time. Closing my eyes, I pointed my toes and spun around the room and allowed myself to move with the sound of every chord-every note-and every soft melody. Slowly, I opened my eyes to take in the world around me. Something had changed; although it wasn’t my peripheral surroundings but a deep paradigm shift occuring in the recesses of my heart and mind. I felt confident, beautiful, and secure standing there in my pink ballet shoes, tight leg warmers, pink tights, and little black skirt.

Playing with the frills on my skirt and smiling like a kid who just robbed a candy store, I reached down and untied my worn out ballet shoes. I sat peering at them for a minute as I slid them off my feet. The worn edges and black discolorations revealed their true age however their beauty was still evident despite their rough appearance. HAHA, God your funny. This was a metaphor for my life wasn’t it? Despite my loose ends and worn-out edges, I am still cherished and beautiful. Just like those “aged” shoes he gladly uses me despite my battle wounds and discolorations left by the stains of life. See friends, these discolorations are my true mark of beauty.

Walking out of the studio and taking one last whiff of the wooden floors, a childish grin came across my face as I looked back into the mirror off in the distance. All these years, and I am finally starting to see my true reflection…