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…