The Wonder Years


I have been off the grid this year. It wasn’t intentional. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t MY plan at all! But, that’s how God does things when He’s making something BIG out of your life. I was learning some very big lessons about myself, by spending an awful lot of time in front of a full-sized mirror…the eyes of another person. I have figuratively stood before that mirror like Adam and Eve stood before God after their first act of disobedience…naked, and  thoroughly ashamed.

I met my match.  I met myself. This is someone who had the appearance of everything I have ever been and gone through, standing before me like an unfinished thought. Someone with all the disadvantages of mis-information, as emotionally, socially and spiritually stunted as I was when I first met God. Someone who never had anyone actually believe in them, but feeling like, “I KNOW there is more to me than this!”

Me – knowing all that God has taught me and all that He’s brought me through – meeting the me who, at that time, had no hope, WISHING someone would throw me a lifeline.

I don’t know if you can imagine coming face to face with your own raw potential and having God pose a question to you: How would you treat YOU?,

“What would you do if I sang out of tune? Would you stand up and walk out on me?”

I was given the opportunity to confront every negative thing that I have ever been, seen, felt, thought and done. I have seen myself in ways that I would never imagined or even wished I could.  It has resulted in a deep appreciation for the work God has been doing in me all these 48 years. All the patience I required. I can’t tell you how many times I have thought to myself, “It would be so much easier to just…walk away.”

At that point, I would simply cry. And thank God for never giving up on me. Then, I would reach out, again, to my new friend/the old me, and encourage him a little bit further.

But, you can’t really TALK about this kind of thing to anyone while you’re in this kind of process.  People normally cannot handle this sort of pressure on a relationship. It really does require a season of incubation.. Not entirely like the time I spent in my own ‘cocoon’ a while back…it has been more like being pregnant with a fully grown human being. NOBODY knows what THAT is like!

And, then I remembered…God knows…

“For we do not have a High Priest Who is unable to understand and sympathize and have a shared feeling with our weaknesses and infirmities and liability to the assaults of temptation, but One Who has been tempted in every respect as we are, yet without sinning”

God had to deal with Jesus pretty much the same way. When Jesus turned twelve, God imposed “radio silence.” And from His big trip to the temple, until His coming into ministry, at age 30, the Bible says not a mumbling word about His comings or goings.

Jesus, being fully God and fully man, had to be a real handful! Honing that power and personality had to be more than a notion.  I imagine that anyone in on that process had to go through some changes!. In a day and age as we live in now, there would have to have been a legal dream team drafting those “Non-disclosure Agreements’ to keep a lid on all the goings on! But, everyone in on such an intimate process would be integral in the development of all the attributes that the Christ required for his 3 year mega ministry. Everyone else was pretty much out of the loop.  

The problem with a major transformations is they usually fall under the category of, “a progressive miracle.” You don’t know it’s really a miracle until you get completely on the other side of it. And so, to protect the imperfections of the perfecting process, God takes all of the attention off of you, while He’s still working on you.

I believe there are times when we feel our lives take on an aura of unimportance.  We can go from day to day, thinking that none of this matters in the least. But, consistencies are developed in these ‘wonder years’ that may lead up to one moment that could change the existence of everyone around us for a lifetime.

I am watching this happen right now.

This process has been, as I mentioned before, more than a notion. It was one thing to be in on my own, personal process. But, to be processed for the sake of another’s process?  It has taken me farther in my faith, than I thought I’d go.  It has cost me more than I thought I’d pay and has kept me longer than I thought I’d stay.  And the silence?  The excruciating silence of this wonder year has very nearly, literally, killed me.But, there is something to be said about dying to live again.

The fact that I have penned this little ditty on Independence Day, has not been lost on me.  I’m certain that means something. I’ll get back to you on that.

As much as I missed talking to you, my Kaleidoscope Family, I wouldn’t change it for anything.

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Gosh…It’s Really QUIET In Here…


I’ve got a snoring old man sleeping in my bed right now.

It’s my ex-husband’s dog, Vincent. My ex brought him over to visit. He used to be the family dog, but we couldn’t keep him.  One of the best friends I’ll ever have. I was craving his presence…

I have been relegated to radio silence.  In my prayers aloud, my voice has softened.  In the conversations with God in my head, I have no volume, no reverberation and no particular tone.  It is mostly code…groaning which cannot be uttered.  In a voicemail I left for myself, I did not recognize my own voice.  I usually cringe at the sound of my voice, but this actually sounded…nice.  I played the message 3 or 4 times. How odd is that?

There has been a paring off of my primary associations.  For one who is friendly to all but familiar to extremely few, that is already a very lonesome disposition.  I don’t know how lonely it is at the top, but if it’s anything like where I am right now, I may be well suited for it.

That’s why I needed the unassuming, unadulterated affection of my good friend, Vincent.  I do not care that he licks my face after having licked…well…anything else.  All I know is he will lick my salty tears and lay all of his 65 pounds across my lap as long as I rub his head and scratch his butt…which, incidentally helps me think and makes me rest.

Vincent was my personal escort to that quiet place I used to know. That’s the place where I don’t have to know how it’s all going to work out. I just have to know I belong to God and God loves me forever.  It’s enough to help me move forward with my destiny in mind, not in search of a plan, but in search of the next well lit step.  One step at a time, one moment at a time.  That’s all any of us gets.  That’s all any of us needs. And that is the moment I will live in; that moment of silence where I wait on the next step God will reveal. I will let that be enough.

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Kicking and Screaming…Or Not…


Me and God had a disagreement this week.  Couldn’t exactly call it an argument…my only responses were relegated to glib, smart-aleck remarks.

“You think You’re funny, don’t You?”

“That’s not cute, God.”

“Really? No…REALLY???”

“You…I…HMPH…I’ll be right back.”

“Can we not do this RIGHT NOW? PLEASE???”

For the last few weeks my emotions have disturbed my state of ‘mild disappointment and calm delight.’ I have strived for years to maintain this state in some of the most unimaginable of circumstances.  The cause for disruption is usually the same: I got a word from the Lord.

I got another piece of the puzzle and was told where to put it…but it didn’t make sense.

HOW IN THE WORLD do you give me a snapshot of the entire puzzle, snatch it away and then hand me one more piddly piece and say, “Just put it down right there.” It’s a CORNER piece, Daddy! DANG!!!  Why do You want me to put it in the middle when it isn’t connected to ANYTHING? How does that make any sense??

MAN, did I act like a BRAT this week!  I huffed and puffed and stomped my feet. I grumbled and pouted and generally stank up the place.  But you know what?  I discovered that was okay, too.  I am, after all, human.  I would like to say I took comfort in the fact that I, like everybody else in these carbon-based earth suits, have permission to misbehave a little bit.  I thought I was better than that.  As it turns out…not so much…on either count.

And just like any really good dad, God gave me the space to vent and when I was all cried out, he told me why that piece fit there and just said, “Trust Me.”

My little trip to the woodshed concluded with me in my office, on my face, with my hands opened up like a cup, poured out.  I was in a state of completely repentant surrender.

No, I don’t have to like the process…but I trust God.  Getting a glimpse of the picture is exciting and can make me want to rush the process to experience the whole picture, but I have to wait for things to unfold as they should.

I am fighting against the layers into which I am encased.  Fighting and scratching to release myself is not the wrong thing to do, but it is exhausting. Both the fight and relinquishing the fight are necessary. Eventually I will be strong enough to break through and I will soar.

Until then, the struggle continues…

Are We There, Yet?


My colors are starting to show.

I went to a Masquerade Ball last night…my first big outing as a divorcée.  I went, expecting to have a “plus one.”  Circumstances beyond their control left me minus one.  I was afraid I would mope all night, but that didn’t happen.  That didn’t happen at all.

I suppose that was the advantage of having lived, simultaneously, with and without someone for so long. I have the distinct advantage of learning to carry myself as if I was unattainable, yet fully free to ‘move about the building.’  I went about the business of having a FANTASTIC time; laughing, talking, mingling, dancing and flirting…pretty much like I always do.

There are two things I know, for certain, about myself.  I cannot and will not be bound by what is expected of me, in any position I maintain; I will do whatever pleases me, so long as it pleases God. I am not made to live alone.

I am a help meet.  Not every woman has the ‘stones’ to say that.  I know that is what I am.  There is a ‘magic’ to what I can do and how I manifest God’s glory when I am properly covered.  I really am every woman (not all at once, mind you…I’m not schizophrenic).  It really is all in me. And one day, some lucky man will get to have it all, and we will both be forever changed by it.

But last night, I got to be free a little bit.

It was funny to see the reaction of some of my friends who had never really seen that side of me.  It was nothing major, just a few looks of bemused curiosity.  I didn’t give them much thought; too busy having fun.  I was brave. I was funny. I was loud. I was raucous.  I was sexy. I was ME.

And it was good.

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The Mysterious Difference…


I cannot begin to explain this process, or what simple, divine revelation has resulted from it.  It took the letting go of who I was and the things to which I had become accustomed, to realize that there really is so much more for me to embrace, to observe, to experience.

I do not deny that I have truly known great love. It was a love that enabled, even facilitated my survival.  For all that it was, it lacked some very critical components.  Things I learned to live without.

The story of my life…at least it was.

And then I saw a glimpse of what it would be like to live with those things I had learned to live without.  Much like in 1 Corinthians 13; first through a glass darkly and then face to face.  The possibility became the probability, became the eventuality, became the promise. The mysterious difference between surviving and thriving; between great and greater and greatest.

We sing songs about expecting the great.  We make these grand declarations about greater things coming to pass.

How would you respond in the face of the promise being fulfilled?

I wept…and said, “Thank You.”

My Beloved, Intended


“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”  I have heard some variation of that proverb quite a few times in recent weeks.  It usually refers to people who are “pathologically altruistic.”

Interestingly enough, I learned about pathological altruism by looking up the phrase above. As it turns out, that idiom is true: http://reason.com/blog/2013/06/19/pathological-altruism-the-road-to-hell-r (thank you, Ronald Bailey).

But I have learned this truth, the hard way, so long ago that it has now become intrinsic to me. You can mean to do good for someone or to someone who is not in a position to receive the good you’ve done and it will backfire on you…most violently, on many occasions.

The least (and many times, the most) we can do is offer a hand, or a word, or an ear.  What another person does with that offering is not your business.  The love was in the offering.  That has to be enough. I’m okay with that…now.

Barbarossa – Bloodline: Bloodline

Notes From Within The Cocoon…


I haven’t written since I posted, post-surgery.  God knows I have wanted to.  Blame it on the season I’m in…or rather, on my way out of.

Every time I try to communicate about what I’ve been experiencing as of late, some new kind of ‘shifting’ takes place.  It’s left me with very little time to adjust, gather and organize my thoughts for communication before another shifting.

There are a number of emotions that hurl themselves at me with each shifting. It is taking everything in me to manage them. I haven’t the wherewithal to speak of them and face them at the same time.

This transition is very dark and…slimy (I guess is the right word). There is a lot going on and I can’t see my way to speak of it…yet.

I will try to post the occasional note. It may have little pertinence to those who do not believe in such evolutions.  It may sound nothing like my usual blog posts.  I certainly won’t be as wordy.

I solicit your prayers and good wishes. I know that something beautiful is about to emerge when this is over.  Beyond that, I know nothing.

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