Freedom from Obscurity

Here's a woman whose story unfolds on an international stage because she stepped out from her hiddenness. First peeking from behind the curtain, then bravely walking with her head up, straight to center stage. Freed from obscurity because she was seen. Seen, not for the attention-grabbing glitz so many rely on, but for her glory. Her God-given gift. Seen. Acknowledged. Invited to be present in her life.

Amazing, isn't it, what a little positive attention can do for a person?

If there's a Susan Boyle in your life, will you dare to look her in the eye and declare to her the truth of who she is? Change her life from the inside out. Be for her a reflection of the Creator's heart toward His beloved creation.

Her world won't be the same when she is present in it, in all her glory, and neither will yours.

Birthday Celebration

Another birthday passes, and I celebrate. . . .

A few more wrinkles. A few more gray hairs. A lot more life. Settling into my skin, I recognize the effects of time. Time with new friends. Time alone. Time spent waiting. Learning to love. Being loved. Emerging. Stronger than before. Resilient. Compassionate. Radiant. Real.

Another birthday passes, and I celebrate. . . .

Discovery of Truth. Beauty unveiled. A rising up. A discerning spirit. A yielded heart. Grace eases in. The coming season borrows from the past only that worth taking forward. The joys. The sorrows. The breath. Hope renewed. Life revealed. Trusting. Leaning. Even leaping.

Another birthday passes, and I celebrate. . . . 

A woman in love. Intimate. Secure. Known. 

Pluto's Demotion

In his recent FaceBook status, a friend shared that he had just heard about Pluto, adding "that's messed up, right?" 

Some astronomical committee meets to discuss the condition of the stratosphere, and without warning, a planet long known to be a part of our solar system loses clout. Its voice drowned out by the drone of human opinion, poor Pluto is stripped from its planetary position and the identity that has set it apart for decades. Now, devalued and without distinction, the planet formerly known as Pluto simply goes by the number 134340.

Yes, Chad, it's messed up. But it's not the end.

The story continues as Pluto's demotion creates a public stir. And out of the mess this one-time planet emerges a "star." USA Today reported that the American Dialect Society chose the word “plutoed” as their 2006 Word of the Year! 

(http://www.usatoday.com/tech/science/space/2007-01-08-plutoed-word_x.htm)

One who has been plutoed has been demoted or devalued. 

Have you ever been plutoed? Perhaps not by a group of scientists looking to clarify your identity, but by the deceiver looking to steal your identity? 

He's crafty and quiet. So there will be no announcement in the newspaper and no obvious outcry of public support for your self-worth. He will use anything he can to get you off course, cause you to feel defeated, distract you from the truth of Whose and who you are. The distractions may come in a variety of ways. Finances. Health. Job loss. Loss of life. Disappointment at the hands of friends. Isolation threatens. 

And, if you're not aware, a potentially life-threatening condition of the heart will emerge. Blood no longer carries oxygen to the brain. All logic and knowledge of Truth disappear. Your head droops. Your eyes lose their light, and you begin to gasp for air. Then you'll climb into your burrow to suffer silently throughout the duration of your demotion. 

Loneliness will become your only companion. This condition can keep you separated from life for days—even years. But it doesn't have to.

Look out from your burrow toward the sky and consider what happened to the planet formerly known as Pluto. Its demotion left it with only a number for identification at the hands of humans. But does this quiet little planet not still hang in the very spot where the Creator first suspended it? Unscathed by human opinion, its true identity still in tact? Still on its intended course, proclaiming with its every rotation the glory and goodness of God?

Absolutely. Now hear this Truth: The subversive words of the deceiver have no greater power over you. 

Though strong and sometimes confirmed by human opinion, they spout only lies. Don't let them strip away your true identity. Remember Whose you are. "Even before he made the world, God loved [you] and chose [you] . . . to adopt [you] into his own family by bringing [you] to himself through Jesus Christ" (Ephesians 1:4-6).

A Man of Few Words

I talked to my dad today. In his usual way, his words were few, though well-chosen and without complication. "You can call more often, Honey. I don't always know when to call you."

My dad wants me in his life. . . .

A couple of weeks ago, nearing the end of a short visit to their winter home in Sebring, Florida, I sat with Mom and Dad after enjoying a wonderful dinner. Tears slipped down my cheeks, eventually choking out my voice, as I began to give them an unexpected glimpse into their daughter's story.  God was calling me to a deeper place. A place that required cleansing. . . . and a vulnerability I found intensely risky.

Dad set aside his dinner and locked my gaze from across the table. I asked forgiveness for the facade, for the fear. Through trembling lips, my words came. Tumbling and awkward. "I need to know that you love me with my crap. Not just when I sing or when I get my name in a book." I paused. Then I emptied my heart. My chest heaved as sobs continually interrupted my less than eloquent story. In the end, all I had left were tears. 

Within seconds, Dad made his way around the table. He wrapped my exposed soul in his arms and reminded me where I stood with him. "You just be who you are. I love you." I'm not sure I can remember the last time I laid my cheek across my dad's shoulder or experienced the comfort and safety of his extended embrace. He's a hugger, for sure, but not always the warm fuzzy, expressive type. 

That day, within our small circle, I heard something I'd previously only assumed to be true: my dad loves me just the way I am. As I'm in the process of being perfected, letting go of old skin, walking into tomorrow's clothes, I'll have days of extreme doubt. But this man of few words— my dad, my protector—showed me the picture of Truth: I am wanted, and I am loved. No matter what. 

I love my dad. He does a great imitation of Jesus.

My Protector - He's at it again!

The pesky noises plaguing my car for the past several months finally culminated in a grind-grind-clunk double-twist combo last weekend. The effect, as I flipped the first U-ie to park in front of the house, sent percussive breaths shooting from my lungs. A second U-ie confirmed the clunk and drained every bit of confidence I had taken away after the previous week's oil change. "There's nothing to worry about," the garage manager assured me. "We heard nothing out of place."

But there I was — out of place and out of sorts. 

So I pulled up to the curb, cranked back the brake, and sat. The opposing silence created plenty of space for me to consider an appropriate response. I considered some more — and, yes, cried just a little — before emerging to inspect the street for any clunky, fallen engine parts. When I found nothing, I simply walked into the house, put away my groceries, and went on with my much-anticipated, quiet evening. What else could I do on a Saturday night? 

Funny, isn't it, how ignoring a half ton, broken down vehicle can make it disappear — or at least sit, undistinguished, in the background. 

After more than two days of denial passed, I finally braved the drive back to the garage. A quick turn of the ignition sobered the manager's otherwise cheery outlook. "This isn't good," he uttered, his head turning my direction from under the hood. Hmmm . . . not a pleasant way to begin a conversation. It turns out that a pulley broke clean off from the crank shaft, leaving the belt to waggle and the gadgets to sputter! 

I sputtered too. My bank account cannot afford such nonsense! The manager, seeing and feeling my pain, began to call associates to track down parts, ahead of giving me a preliminary estimate. The result? Around $340. With screaming out of the question, I went about the business of fussing, trying desperately to anticipate whether I should take the car home, borrow a friend's car, and leave the cash in my account for "such time as it would be needed for something more important." In my old manner, I wanted to see what only God can see: the future!

A couple of phone calls later, and a reminder from the manager that my car wasn't driveable, I indicated the go-ahead with a less than enthusiastic thumbs up. "Take care of what's in front of you," I kept telling myself. "Worry about what's to come when it comes." Easy to say, but walking the way seemed beyond my ability. . . . 

And, that's when I began to recognize the long armed anticipation of the One who promises to Protect. It hit me smack dab in the middle of my mess. In a few weeks, I'll be driving across the state to teach at the Florida Christian Writer's Conference. Not a terribly long drive, but what if that pulley had held on, lulling me into a false sense of security until — BAM! It snapped somewhere along I-4, sending me to a spinning, grinding halt with no immediate resources, suspended between Florida coasts?

What if . . . 

Those words haunt me at times, do they you? They leave me suspended — not between Florida coasts, but between heaven and earth. Between lies and Truth. The lie? I'm responsible to provide for every aspect of my life on earth.  And money's often the root of my fear for provision. In my singleness, I've tended toward self-sufficiency. Not asking for help — at times not even knowing I have need, and certainly not being able to name the need so that I know what to ask for (hint: that's called denial, ya know!).

So, yay for me that I called my friend's husband to talk over my dilemma with a fellow talker — because I know I will drive myself crazy trying to internalize an answer. And then — I let him come and pick me up! I knew that something in me had shifted when I responded to a "how ARE you?" question with "God protected me today. That pulley could have broken off any time, anywhere, and left me stranded." But I have a Protector whose unfailing love I can trust — and His timing is perfect. And since, out of that perfect love, He provides for my needs today, I can trust Him to provide for the needs that arise tomorrow — when tomorrow comes.

In your strength I can crush an army; with my God I can scale any wall. God’s way is perfect. All the Lord’s promises prove true. He is a shield for all who look to him for protection. For who is God except the Lord?
Who but our God is a solid rock?  Psalm 18:29-31 NLT