Tomboy Princess

     

     Growing up, I've always been the girl to rock jeans, a t-shirt and a fresh pair of hard to find kicks. Any sort of rugged urban street wear, I'd love to wear it. I look back at my junior high and high school pictures, and I was about that flannel and jean life. I wasn't trying to make any sort of statement at the time, but in retrospect I see, that quite the proclamation was being made.

     There's something to be said about puberty, and how awkward your own body appears to you in the mirror during that stage of life. Much of our teen years and early 20s are more about hiding our insecure body parts, rather than celebrating them with a fashionable expression.

     Now, it wasn't like I only owned sneakers, flannels, and t-shirts. I had a couple of dresses, skirts, and the like, but not many articles of clothing that screamed femininity.

     Nevertheless, I was an eclectic teenager to say the least. I definitely marched to the beat of my own drum regarding fashion in my early years, and honestly, I think I still do now.

     But I realize in many ways, while growing up, I was afraid to embrace my true femininity.

     I think I was afraid of the vulnerability that comes along with such power.  Being afraid of my femininity, my hips, my shape, my legs, my arms, my emotions--and not just fearful of exposing them, but truly embracing them all as beautiful.

     I feared my femininity in full bloom.

     In the undercurrent of my thoughts, I somehow felt that if I gave in completely and wholly to my femininity I would be taken advantage of somehow.  I had seen it and heard it happen to so many beautiful and feminine girls.

     And I thought, remaining powerful, meant remaining feminine-less. Oh, that's not a word? That's okay. Let's just keep going.

     And somehow I equated femininity with weakness. Much like people mistake kindness and gentleness for weakness. #Dontsleep

     Never considering the other factors these young girls and women struggled with regarding bad habits, bad choices, unhealthy lifestyles, lack of personal boundaries with people, or them just simply encountering mean, controlling folks, etc.

     With this understanding that came much later, I began to see the struggle to live a powerful life wasn't birthed from their femininity alone, but rather their identity as a whole and the resilience or lack thereof that they were intentional about walking in.

    Needless to say, it wasn't until my later 20s that I begin to settle into the beauty and power of my own femininity.

   One of my best friends is a fashion stylist and she affectionately calls my style: "Boho Woo{dsy} Chic"

     Yes, I still love my flannels, jeans, and sneakers, but my love for all things flowy, bohemian, and eclectic has now taken root in my everyday perspective.

    As a woman in waiting it's become more and more exciting to see the ways in which I continue to mature, grow, and blossom into the very someone I love becoming.

     Being adventurous doesn't always mean traveling half way around the world or jumping out of an airplane.  Sometimes being adventurous is simply embracing the hidden and often neglected facets of who God truly created you to be.

     Becoming who you are--that is truly adventurous.

Wisdom's Knocking: 

“I want to help you to grow as beautiful as God meant you to be
when He thought of you first.”

- George MacDonald

To My Babies

You light up my life with songs of bold hope and heavenly declaration.

And you are truly the joy of your father's life.

I want you to be strong. To know that you are loved.

I want you to know that anything, absolutely anything is possible with God.

Don't listen to the rest of the world, when they deter you from walking...from running...from soaring.

And although, you're not yet here on this planet, I'm already so proud of you, and my heart is full of such love for you.

I cannot wait to hold you in my arms, to hear your laughs, and to wipe away tears that will give way to better stories and redemption.

And in exchange, I'll share with you my portion of love that Christ has so freely offered me. And the stories that He has given me.

The stories of seeing my first shooting star, trips around the world, my Zambian name, surviving a bombing, and the miracle of meeting your father.

Wisdom's Knocking:

"It's easier to build strong children than repair broken men."

-Frederick Douglass

I Liked Him

And you see this person who is beautiful. They take your breath away. There is daylight boasting in each one of their eyes. And for a moment you can envision something beyond the droll of your daily Winter routine. You were suffocating any way, just waiting for Spring to come along, someone to change it all.

You study them from afar, and you gather more intel proving that this person is celestial at worst, and yours at best.

You've never witnessed something so alluring, so prepossessing.

And then there's a mystical moment of recognition.

They smile at you.

You just can't believe your luck.

And now, all you want to be is theirs.

You've waited and you've searched.

Because something about them doesn't feel like an apartment. Something about them feels like home.

The consuming begins. Of which you hope leads to a full consummation on every level.

Thoughts and planning race through your mind.

And now you start hoping. Now you start praying.

It's taken a while for you to trust that the universe doesn't hate you, that God hasn't forgotten about you, because standing in front of you now is a miracle.

Months ago, you never even knew this person existed on the planet.

And with a mixture of disdain and bewilderment, you wonder how you've been living your whole life without such knowledge of the holy this entire time?

Because now you can believe in God again, after seeing such an engaging creature exist.

They are beautiful indeed.

And then comes the howling blow and battle of time.

The push and pull, the tension of waiting.

And trying to connect with this mysterious person is elusive, like trying to build a castle out of dry sand.

And then you begin to see the world of this person orbiting around a new planet.

And it becomes painfully clear they will never be yours to keep.

And you release them back to the daylight from which they came.

Grateful that you witnessed a miracle, just a bit sore that it couldn't be yours.

Wisdom's Knocking:

The question won't be if they are amazing. 

They probably will be. 

But will they be amazing for (and with) you--

That is the deciding factor.

Cling To

     

     You find out what you're really made of when there's a significant earthquake in the darkness of morning, whilst you're still in bed.

***

     I'm actually that weirdo who loves earthquakes.

     The sensation and reminder that I'm not in as much control as I'd like to think I'm in somehow reassures me. And in the midst of these ground shaking phenomenons I feel a boat load of peace. I can't fully explain it, but I just do. I feel an inner calm and peace in the midst of the ground shaking and the walls wavering back and forth.

     I've been in a variety of settings when significantly sized earthquakes have occurred. One time I was at school, another time a retreat, once on the road, and quite a few times at home.

     And in all these instances, I just felt like I was riding the wave.

     But this past Monday, around 6:15A.M., something unusual happened. About 10 minutes before the earthquake happened, I opened my eyes out of a dead sleep. I rustled about in my bed, couldn't quite get comfortable and tried to wait until the early morning sounds of Monday morning died down. No sooner did I roll over and try once again to go back to sleep, that a deep rumbling started to penetrate the walls of the entire house. 

    I was startled. Perplexed at first, because I was still semi-sleepy and didn't know if I was in that almost-dream state.

     And then the rumbling intensified dramatically and I could hear things in my bathroom falling down. 

     That's when things seemed to play out in slow motion for me. 

     It's dark, so you don't quite have your bearings. 

     "Jesus. Jesus." It was a prayer and a means to calm my own heart down--to bring some familiarity into the situation.

     And you want to reach your arms out like someone who's beginning to drown. 

    You want to try and hold the walls up.

    And at the same time, you want to cling to your pillow and just ride it out. 

    "Doorway."

    And then, like a reflex, I remembered that I needed to get out of bed and go to the closest doorway.

    And as mysteriously and quickly as the earthquake began, it stopped.

    "Are you okay?!"

     The voice of my roommate.

     And we were.

     Just shaky. Which was new for me.

     I've always felt like Indiana Jones during an earthquake in the past, but this time, I felt more like, "Willie Scott".

     But the shaking was now over, and it was time to lay back down and sleep. Or at least try to.

    But I couldn't really fall back asleep. Instead I was oddly tense and fervently waiting for the aftershock (which did come eventually and gently shook my entire bed).

     Moments passed, I dozed off for a few minutes at a time, but eventually I decided to start the day much earlier than planned. 

     This is what happens when you're shaken awake.

     And yet, somehow, I felt like this earthquake was mercy.

     No this wasn't the "Big One" by any means (Geologists say that we in Southern California have a 99% chance of having a catastrophic earthquake in the next 30 years.), the earthquake I experienced was actually quite small (4.4) for Southern Californian standards, but somehow this quake gave the illusion of a 5.0 -- Perhaps because of how shallow the quake actually was--meaning 6 miles below the earth's surface, instead of further down.

     Nevertheless, it suggested that we be prepared, reminded, and grateful everyday of the opportunities and time that we've been afforded thus far.

     And yes, since I was and am a Girl Scout (I mean, does one ever really retire from being a Girl Scout. #Nope). And our motto is, "Be Prepared", just know that all of my survival kit items have now been updated, including our emergency evacuation strategies. #Dontsleep

     In my quiet time with God this morning, I was rereading a famous passage: John 3:16

     In this translation, certain words were better expanded upon to give a richer meaning of the text.

     Which led me to think:

     What have we been clinging to in our lives thus far?

     Something solid, something meaningful, something lasting, something true?

     I was so gently reminded this morning that God knows that we often flail about with our arms in the air needing something and someone to cling to. And He, in such profound love and grace, so freely offers Himself to be our ultimate Anchor. 

Wisdom's Knocking:

"For God so greatly loved and dearly prized the world that He [even] gave up His only begotten ([a]unique) Son, so that whoever believes in (trusts in, clings to, relies on) Him shall not perish (come to destruction, be lost) but have eternal (everlasting) life."

- John 3:16 (Amplified Translation)

Walk It Out

     

     Recently, I drove to my nearest hiking trail, took a good book with me, and rested in the trail's beginning point, basking in the heated sunlight.

     I didn't actually plan on walking at all, I simply wanted to be outdoors, in nature, reading a book.

     It's sometimes so beneficial to solely take the time.

     Earlier, I thought my day was going to be full of people, small talk, and racing all around town. But God had other plans.

     I needed to get still.

     It's one of my favorite things to do. To be outside in nature, whether it's a desert landscape like my hometown, or a faintly green hillside in the valleys of Southern California. It's so nice to breath air outside the four walls of the caves we cling to.

     And so, I sat down with my good book.

     I also had a prime view of all the new visitors intently making their way into the trail. Some were men with neon biker shorts, playing Kelly Clarkson, from their armband music player, others were ladies with softly shaped baseball caps and water bottles in hand, Some were with friends. And some were families with kids.

     I thought to myself, how precious is this? That these families are taking the time to simply be with their young kids, while they're still young.

     This one father was with his two younger boys. They looked to be about 6 and 10 years old. The boys both had walking sticks with them, and the dad had a backpack on.

     I couldn't quite hear the conversation happening between the three of them. But the boys seemed to be in heaven, while they jumped around and tried to use their walking sticks as swords. The dad was peaceful and happy. He was the sun in the story. And the boys orbited around him effortlessly as they continuously walked forward on the trail.

     It was such a beautiful picture.

     But everyone, even the friends, the families, those walking alone, or in packs--they all had a hurried walk about them. Much like the walkers you see in New York City. There was a deep sense of focused purpose, while walking towards the trail.

     It was an odd cocktail,  a sense of anticipation mixed with irritation and subtle intensity.

     And as I sat there with my book, the sunlight began to clear my eyes. And about an hour later, I would begin to see the same people I saw arrive, now beginning to exit.

     And it was like a night and day vision.

     The intensity, the irritability and the agitation that had cloaked them, had somehow disintegrated.

     The anticipation was still there in their eyes but with a calm sense of reverence about them.

     It was clear.

     They had been readjusted.

     Looking at and breathing in things that are larger than you, changes you.

     The funny thing is, I don't know how aware these people were of their own transformation.

     But they gave me a clue into my own.

     I realized that my own body was feeling relaxed, as if I had had a massage in the realm of my emotions. Upon arriving at the trail, I honestly didn't know how tense I was.

     Before coming, I'd simply thought it was a good idea to get some sunlight and a bit of reading done. But it became clear, I had also been worried about a few things.  And now, sitting at the trail an hour later, I was no longer consumed with how these things would be resolved, but had peace that they would be.

     I love that God has a way of calming us down.

     Especially through nature.

     There's probably a park, a trail, or even just a road slightly outside of your city limits that leads to wide open spaces. I encourage you to visit one of them this week.

      Sometimes a change of scenery helps to change and reset our perspective and open our hearts for the good things God wants to give us.

Wisdom's Knocking: 

And He [Jesus] arose, and rebuked the wind and said unto the sea, 

“Peace, be still.” 

And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.

- Mark 4:39