Friends and The Nitty Gritty

It’s time for this nitty gritty post to go live. I’ve been drafting old “nitty” and hiding all the “gritty” even from myself. But today is a new day and I’m letting it out. So, hide yo’ wife, hide yo’ kids, here goes, ya’ll…

Confession: The recent months have seemed like a blur. It felt like the roller coaster ended, but my head was still spinning.

I was having one of those weeks where every stitch of clothing in our home that “should” be washed, was not washed. Every single mug, cup, saucer or storage container was pilled high in the sink – all dirty. We had resorted to drinking coffee out of measuring cups.

Unfortunately we were giving into the nasty habit of piling the clean, clothes-to-be-folded stack all on top of the guest bed, in hopes that the laundry fairy will take care of them overnight…only to find the pile much bigger the following day. So poor GuestBed was caving under about 60 pounds of laundry.

My Orlando sister-friend – the one who helped me christen my love for all things Audrey Hepburn – let me unload all my luggage of the “Mean Reds” on her. she listened. again.

It’s not like the blues. And it’s not like the yucks. And it’s not even like my case of “I’m sick for pickled pigs feet” either. – this is beyond all that. Just beyond.

You know there are days you just feel – frumpy. or gross. or just blaghk. But you can get in the car, or sit in front of the mirror and do your make up for an extra 10 minutes while listening to The Morning Show in the background, read a devotional, say a prayer and it all seems to start balancing out. You just move on. Well the past few weeks….or maybe, months, that “moving on” button was not resetting. I think it got some syrup on it, from eating too many pancakes in bed one day – and I just could not muster the energy to fix that “I’m ok today” reset button.

Honestly, I haven’t been ok. And my husband, poor sweet baby honey tender soul, (bless his heart), has dealt the brunt of it — along with my heavenly husband, Jesus. (bless his heart too.) They have loved me. unconditionally. Although somedays I’ve questioned even that much. I’ve pleaded with one and prayed to the other, “please just love me.” Knowing, they surely do, but feeling, truly “how could they?” I mean LOOK at me! I’m a mess. I’m beyond a mess. I’m a wreck.

I’ve gone for months with no prayers, just tears, since saying goodbye to the beautiful life. And then there were no more tears to cry, only questions, anger, new realms of resentment and bitterness.

And I got to that point when I thought it must be the lowest possible point ever, hanging on by a thread. Another week goes by, I realize “now this is the lowest.” – and then the next day hits hard. nope. here it is. I found myself no longer comparing days of glory, but instead the depth upon new depth of my sorrow.

But the moment the rope slipped out of my hand, the very moment I lost my grip, letting go of every shred of hope left inside me, I get a text message. A friend was thinking about me. She asked us to dinner that night. The following day, more emails, facebook love and letters from friends who were just thinking about me. The next day, a whirlwind of love from another friend. And a few nights later another sushi dinner date with friends.

But that friday Afternoon in the midst of all of these beautiful hands extended, as if God were saying “this is how I love you,” I received a very timely phone call from one special Audrey-loving friend. It was our second long-distant-friend call that week. A few days earlier, she shared of her own “red moments” and I listened, we committed to “link arms” and prayed, like I know to do. But I hung up questioning how God could hear a prayer from this heart that was in so much disarray. But He did.

He used that sweet friend to bless me back two days later when she called me and listened. I broke down and balled like a baby while confessing how disordered and discontent my life was. YES! ME! The one who is supposed to always have it together. The Church Girl. The Sunday School Teacher.

Instead of simply patting me on the back like a good Christian friend, she did more. She took action. Immediately. She overnighted me a book. Express Mail. Saturday morning special delivery. And it was not just any book. It was the EXACT book for my moment — and for her’s too. She counseled me with the grace and wisdom of a little old church grandma.

The following day was filled again with FRIENDS and football!

Thank God for friends.

Thank you Lord for beginning a great new work in me and for purging another layer back from the onion of my soul.

I am happy to report, the guest bed is cleared of its six…teen loads of laundry.

And sweet tender soul honey bunny has been happy to see me smiling at 8AM while making homemade pancakes for him.

…and I finally let Jesus help me clean that sticky syrup off my reset button, and is helping me move forward.

If you have found yourself living out the nitty-gritty or the mean reds, I know our God can help rescue you too!

Bubbles

Most of our worlds are remiss from moments that shake or shatter the core of our being.  Most of the time we are protected and sealed off from painful heart ache spurred by tragedy.  We see it on the news, read it in  magazines or books of how it has happened to other people, but we never want to believe it could happen to us?

No. Instead we float.  Like Bubbles.  Our life  seems to glisten and shine floating individually, to the pattern and rhythm of our own beautiful micro-world.  Our safe space. The place where where we imagine nothing can happen to us, as long as we are floating.

Bubbles.

As I washed my dishes Friday afternoon, on my 31st birthday, having just returned from a week away to Virgina for my precious cousins funeral, I found myself pondering those vanishing bubbles in my sink.  Also, mulling over my afternoon spent making phone calls and getting quotes for “grown up stuff” a.k.a. life insurance, better vehicle coverage, medical insurance, etc.  I made a round of calls pursuing things I have avoided and never really gave a second thought to…until now.  Because life, for me, has seemed to exist as a series of moments, floating from one dance to the next.

Just like those bubbles disappearing in my sink, my perfectly pleasant bubble instantly burst on June 12th when I received news that my 33 year old cousin – a wife, a daughter, a sister, a friend, and a mother to two little children had tragically died in a climbing accident.  No one wants to believe it will ever happen to them or to their family.

I am guilty as charged for portraying the grotesque role of false empathy.  A pat on the back, a hug, a simple “I’m so sorry,” or “Ohhh, that’s tough.”  A card, an email, maybe even a prayer or two.  But secretly in my shiny bubble world, moving away as quickly as possible as to not interfere or collide into a world of pain or sorrow. Because it’s not my world and it’s not my problem, my heart is sadly relieved that it’s not me wearing their shoes.  And only moments later moving along and floating once again.

For years, I have boycotted the news.  I avoid hearing the tragic stories. My ignorance has been my bliss.  It’s been my safe place.  But I have now awakened to a realization during this season that as a Christian, that ignorance is not truely bliss.  It’s simply one of the nasty offspring’s of fear….denial.   My ignorance is unintentionally denial.  Living in fear, is not from the Lord, neither is living in denial.  I’m realizing this now, and principles from the Word are leaping from my heart as reminders of how I can move forward:

“Cast your cares upon the Lord — for he cares for you!” 1 Peter 5:7

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“Bear one another’s burdens.” Gal 6:2

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“I can do (emotionally handle) ALL things through Christ who gives me strength” Phil 4:13

My confidence in this confession only comes from recent conversations of friends who share the bubble life with me.  We say it doesn’t matter that we don’t call each other during life’s trials and celebrations, because we “know” we love each  other.  Every year when I flip over the December calendar, I renew an age old promise that ‘this’ will be the year that I celebrate my friends and loved ones special days…but the calendar rolls on, and I continue to float.

Moving beyond this tragedy, time has been an epic enemy.  It’s like the further time moves beyond the moment of our loss, the more our life exists without our beloved. However, this challenge of passing time has given me a newness for living life beyond the floating bubble.  I’m learning to richly soak in each hug, to notice every tear and to embrace even the smallest of treasures, for they are fleeting and priceless.

a wellspring

Life is a funny, funny thing, as Alanis said, >>like ten thousand spoons when all you need is knife… Aaahhhh, I can look back at seasons where I could barely catch my breath from all the “doing,” believing the mis-truth in my heart that surely I was doing ‘as unto the Lord’ because I was giving all of myself wholly to the world. A self-sacrificer, or maybe a selfish-sacrificer, nonetheless.

At the turn of my third decade on this earth, last summer, those “secret of life” questions began resounding in my heart. There must be more than to have given so much only be left empty, broken and hurting. I’ve learned the hard way, being busy will never fix those things.

In a conversation with my love, my millionaire man (well, maybe not yet, but I see that much worth in him now), we were talking about this concept of life and purpose and our passions. How many people get to truly do what they love everyday…very few. They say they love it, but that’s because they have to. Truly, truly waking up, jumping up each day exhilarated beyond measure to pursue the day, would, to me, mean living life to the fullest. What would living out our passions truly look like? What would the world begin to look like? Could we change our world, if everyone pursued their soul-purpose?

The windows of my heart seem so buried under the layers of life, that three decades into it, I find it difficult sometimes recall that “original recipe” of what I was created to be. You remember how the “New Coke” was so messed up – nobody wanted it? We all wanted Classic Coke back, that’s where its at people! Sometimes I think we just have to take time to humble ourselves, and say, Ok, so I tried, this and I tried that and it did not work. So now I’m going back to the place where I originally started, the road I was originally on, before I took that wrong turn, and I’m starting there. Going to a place way back in the recesses of my mind and heart to rekindle my “original passion.” This week, I’ve been stirred by a noble theme, as the psalmist David says, as I recite my verses before my king.

Colossians 3:17 “whatever you do in word or deed” was heavy on my mind the past few days. I’m relating it to my new passion theory: “that my doing unto the Lord should only be done through a heart of original intent, full of passion, spilling over with words, and deeds.” Our passions, from Christ will somehow always revolve around Colossians 3. I believe that anyone’s true passion can be found by meditating on this chapter.

He starts by telling us to get rid of the junk! Our psalmist also says, “guard your heart, for it is the heart is the wellspring of life.” It’s clear, the heart is like a wellspring, when that spring gets clogged up, nothing will work right. The issues of life, and our sins can prevent us from functioning/flowing with our true life passion. Throw out the sin issues, that’s step one. (which, btw, is super easy. just ask Jesus. yup, that’s it.)

Then he tells us, now that we are holy (um, just cleaned up through prayer), we can have super fun, adding some decorations to the place, and getting some new clothes, like compassion, and kindness, humility, gentleness and patience – oh those are so much fun!! And they look good too.

It’s all about spiritual maturity (as my millionaire man preaches to me daily.) Growing up in Christ means changing out our old with our new. yes, it’s scary and may be difficult (letting go of the past hang ups or addictions). But living a life FREE from sin, and bondage truly is rewarding and unbelievably good.

From that point, our spring starts blossoming with trees and flowers, Lilly pads and birds. Ok, maybe I’m illlustrating too much of my own perfect stream here, but my point is – that’s when the Beauty starts to happen (something I preach to my millionaire man daily. lol) We become Beautiful creations in Christ. Peaceful, Thankful. And showing others the way to obtain their own beautiful wellstream.

So yes, Passion. Real Passion, starts with a pure heart. Join me in seeking God, for that “pure and holy passion – one magnificent obsession – one glorious ambition for my life – to know when to follow hard after you…”

As my friend Candi Pearson Shelton sings it (yes, well ok, so we were on choir tour a few summers together in high school). A song, from one on of the greatest worship albums ever, Passion’s One Day live:

thanks: super talented brother

This Heart.

Searching for a love like no other,

in a world full of many trials and choices,

this heart had wondered far too long and nearly lost the race.

Once again hoping to find the one who would journey along side

to the endless depths of my tomorrow,

knowing the prize ahead, and promise from before,

I accepted God’s unfathomable grace.

A stolen song had been returned,

many ageless scars had been made new

when I released my heart to the Fathers eternal trust and care.

He simply said ‘wait’ and sent his peace;

my heart had found its resting place

and from there I began to discover the fullness of living.

Not knowing all along,

God’s perfect timing had began to appear.

He took me to the point of needing only Him,

for my future was trusted to his keeping.

There were nights still I wept for longing,

I prayed for patience when He showed me once again

that I simply needed to wait.

It was in that waiting of many nights and days

that I found my place of perfect peace and true surrender

in the Master’s plan.

As silent as a whisper and as perfect as the rain,

the waiting was over and the journey began

with the one who is now holding my hand.

His faithfulness and patience resemble that of Christ.

His loving arms and warm embrace show me each day

how deeply Christ loves his church.

I never knew the many ways of this perfect three chord love,

for I had only held the untrue fame of belonging without Love.

This love will stand the test of time,

this love will never fail.

The test of patience,

the test of trust,

in due time have revealed

that Love outlast the greatest pleasure

the world will ever fill.

written:  4.17.07

Epilogue: I began this piece sometime in the fall of 2003. It was edited and added to a word document April 29, 2004. Tonight April 17, 2007, I completed the last few paragraphs to give closure to “This Heart.” It began in my heart as a confirmation to my love for Keith and the total trust that had been developing in my heart for him. Keith and I had been dating for just a few months when I wrote this piece. I had been broken and unloved so many times before, that I was not able to trust my heart or any one else again. I had fallen in love with him and I knew that my heart was totally beginning to trust him and I became afraid of being hurt. I was in his office one night praying for him and our life together. I remember he was at the church setting up working. In my time with the Lord, praying for our future and knowing the Love I had in my heart for Keith, the Lord showed me a strong vision of a church and the powerful role Christ plays with his Bride. He impressed upon my heart his total unwavering love that he pours upon His church and the oneness that we are in Christ. He then ‘proved’ to me that Keith loves me like no other man has ever loved me before because God had planted a love for ME inside of him – the kind that He gives to men – to love their wives as Christ loves the church, and Keith now possessed that for me. I knew that this kind of Love was pure and knew God had confirmed in me to trust him as the Church should trust Christ.

The Wind Blows..

written 4.7.07 – 2AM

The wind blows across our face and beckons us into the deep

Some move with swift intent, others warn and question-

The journey is far and fast and wide, much to our hearts surprise

We were made with the breath to sustain the distance

We were made with the hope and the promise of dawn

Will we run the race and raise the sails of our journey so steep?

Will we cower behind the shadow of sleep until the wind is faint and still?

How do we know what tomorrow holds?

How do we know if the wind is sure?

All we can do is watch those around us with wind in their hair

Their sails set high, courageously passing us by.

Once we rode the sea of adventure,

Once we held onto its spontaneous embrace.

We flew together, the wind and I, as we glided across the midnight sky.

The stars shown bright that night, each one brilliant and close –

Flying across the ocean deep

A destination to behold of once mere childhood dreams

Now finally, walking upon this land where ancient stories linger

A smile, the smell, permanent photographs upon the heart

– The wind is now in my hair

As swiftly as the stars appeared over the journey so great,

The dawn drew in the final tears and silent memories of late

The wind once blew upon my face, but now it’s faint and still.

Will I run the race and raise my sails in another journey so steep?

Or will I cower behind the shadow of sleep, and watch it pass me by?

– The wind is blowing upon my face.

Epilogue:

Tonight I’m up late, again, not sleeping. It’s been almost a year since the spark of creative writing has flowed thru my fingers. When I write in poetry or free style I feel connected and alive. I know this is only the work of the Holy Spirit igniting the spark of anointed arts inside me and that is where I am most complete. I was finishing up another late Saturday night preparing worship and sending out some last minute emails thru myspace. I saw a picture of a girl I went to South Africa with, nearly 7 years ago. The moments I spent in SA are etched on my heart forever, like a tree scared with the hearts of two young lovers. The etching will always be there I believe – with the smiles, the beautiful faces, the smells, the tastes and the sounds of that place continuously beating thru my soul. I remember flying to South Africa across the midnight sky; the 18 hour journey seemed like one second. The stars were beautiful as I looked out across the ocean somewhere. I was standing in the cockpit, as the captain of that SAA aircraft gave me a tour of the stars – something I will never be able to do again commercially. I remember the very first steps I took onto the ramp in South Africa, it was very surreal, like a slow motion movie. It was something I had been dreaming of for years. Some days, when I smell chaffer dishes or certain kerosene’s I see the pictures of the faces in my heart and I can feel their dark little hands reaching out to touch my ivory skin. Right now, I know I’m not in position for that wind to sail me back. But in my dreams I’m already there and in my heart I have a buried treasure full of memories.

I saw of my one of my African travel companions tonight that captured the very essence of a powerful woman, a woman who follows the wind, and is ready to run with any movement of the Holy Spirit. She was standing somewhere in India with the most beautiful calm on her face, in only one of her many experiences ministering around the world. I’ve watched her for the past few years and I am amazed by her adventures and her passion for God. She has traveled thru Europe, Dominican, many other countries and now India. Tonight I am inspired by her passion and her journey….the journey….all of our journeys…