Archives for 2011

Let Freedom Ring

IN CONGRESS, July 4 1776

The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen United States

(an excerpt)

…We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed,

That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed.

But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.

Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government…

…We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States;

that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved;

and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do.

And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.

May your Independence Day be full of blessings, family, friends and hot dogs.  God Bless this great country.

To read the Declaration of Independence in its entirety, visit my friend Angie’s website, Celebrating Holidays.  On it you will be find a jackpot of information and history to share with your children on why we celebrate this holiday, where our national symbols originated and what they mean, and creative things you can do with your kids to celebrate.  Her website is a gold mine.

We’re moving to Florida

In February we met with a realtor to discuss putting our house on the market.  We were ready to upsize.  We wanted more space for ourselves, for our children and we wanted to be able to host out of town family when they came to visit.  That was our plan.

God had a different plan.

On April 6, our house officially went on the market and we began looking at new homes here in town.  A few weeks later, Lee got wind of a job opportunity in Tampa, Florida.  We’ve always wanted to live in Florida so whenever a job opened up down there we checked it out.  The thing is, we love St. Louis.  We’re so deeply blessed here that for us to pull the trigger on moving was difficult.  No job ever felt good enough for us to actually make that move.

Until this one.

Lee got really excited about this job potential.  More excited than I’ve seen him in a long time.  But I wasn’t sure.  There were other things playing out in my mind and heart and I was kind of at the point where I was ready to abandon the dream of living in Florida and stake our claim in St. Louis forever.  So I waited skeptically while Lee interviewed.

We decided to put our house hunt on hold until we found out more about the viability of the job.  About five weeks ago, we got the call from our realtor that we had an offer on our house.  At this point we’d heard little from the people in Tampa so we began looking again at homes locally.  But two days after the house went under contract, Lee was asked to fly to Tampa for an interview.

This is the part of the story where I began developing an ulcer.

I waited as my husband flew to Tampa for two days to interview.  And while I waited, I prayed.  I prayed that the Lord would give us wisdom to make the right decision.  Like I said, we’re terribly blessed here.  And a large part of that blessing stems from our amazing church family.  The thought of leaving our church home and the friends we have there makes my stomach tie into knots.  But I don’t ever want fear of change to hold my family back, so I determined to loosen my grip on the familiar and embrace what God might have for us.

I can’t go into all the details of how God showed us His plan, but I can say that He answered my prayer above and beyond what I imagined.  I asked Him to make it obvious if we should go and He really did.  From things like our house selling at exactly the same time the company needed to make the new hire, to our roof needing to be replaced and insurance covering it, to our furnace needing to be replaced and home warranty covering, and on and on the list goes…

OBVIOUS.

God placed random strangers into our lives to speak such wisdom and peace into us that both of us began to shake our heads in awe.  From someone sitting by Lee on the airplane down to Tampa to a bartender, God used others to give us peace in this decision.  It’s truly been amazing.

We did not mention this to many people because we just weren’t sure what would happen.  It’s tricky when a lot of life plays itself out online.  These matters become much more delicate.  We didn’t want Lee’s current company to get wind of this, obviously.  Nor did we want anything said to our kids inadvertently.  But it’s been hard.  We have tried to answer questions honestly without giving too much information away.  It’s felt deceptive, but I sincerely hope that everyone understands that that was never our intention.  This has been a difficult process for us.

On Tuesday of this past week, Lee’s paperwork cleared and he was officially given the job that would move us from St. Louis to Tampa.  We closed on our house the next day.  Once again, God confirmed in our hearts His plan.

But this is hard.

This is really, really hard.  Painful.  Lee will leave in two weeks to begin working in Florida.  The kids and I will leave a few days after him.  And my heart is ripping in half.

My family moved to St. Louis when I was 12.  Though I lived in Texas for six years, St. Louis was always home base.  For 21 years, this has either been home, or home base.  Minus the wicked winters…and crazy tornadic springs, I love everything about this town.  Especially the people.  Lee and I moved here a year before Sloan was born.  This is the place we became a family.  We have friends who have poured into us for the last nine years, watching us grow, watching our children grow and giving us some of the sweetest years of our lives.

I’m sad to leave.

But I’m also excited.  Like I said, living in Florida has been a dream of ours since we got married.  We have family down there and we love everything about the beach.  Our kids have been begging us to move to Florida for years.  They’re thrilled.  And we are too.  But it’s tempered by the dread we feel to leave.

So that’s where we stand.  We are spending our last couple of weeks in St. Louis doing all the things we love to do, spending as much time with friends as we can, and shedding a lot of tears.  We are also rejoicing in the Lord’s provision and look forward expectantly as we await what He would have for us next.

I said it beforenew adventures await us.


Jennifer Aniston did my hair

It was early morning, the air sticky and hot.  I struggled with my dress, which originally bore the shape of a bad muumuu…made out of curtains.  Unfortunately during the tailoring process, the dress had been altered into a bit of a mini-skirt.  I found myself self consciously tugging at it, all the while singing the song I learned at junior high church camp many moons ago:

 

 

Oh you can’t get the heaven (Oh you can’t get to heaven)

In a mini-skirt (In a mini-skirt)

No you can’t get to heaven (No you can’t get to heaven)

In a mini-skiiiiirt.

No you can’t get to heaven in a min-skirt

‘Cause God don’t like no little flirt

All my sins are washed away, I’ve been redeemed

(I’ve been redeemed)

Lovely.

Much emphasis was placed on the need for me not to be late.  It was imperative that I show up on time, which meant I needed to leave extra early because I didn’t know where I was going.  It’s always best to plan a little extra time to get lost.  Especially if you’re me.  I’m fairly certain God forgot to install my inner compass when He put me together.

I ran down the steep hill (mountain?) from the cabin where I and the other participants slept, carrying my flip flops in one hand and holding my shortened dress down with the other.  I finally got to the community bathroom where my friend Melissa met me.  She came out of nowhere – I’m not even sure how she got there….she lives in Louisiana.

“What are you doing with your hair?” she asked as I frantically applied my make up.

“I don’t know!” I lamented.  “My hair looks like a mushroom!”

It really did.  Somehow the humidity had tousled it into a bouffant that resembled a portabella on top of my head.  Making matters worse, I held the hair dryer too close to my head and fried my bangs and they now frizzed out in a bubble of straw right in the middle of my forehead.

As I huffed, I heard laughter from the bathroom stall.  Melissa and I exchanged looks and waited.  The toilet flushed and the stall door opened.

It was Jennifer Aniston!  Perfect hair and all…

Walking up to me, Jennifer studied my hair closely.  “Hmmm…” she said.  “Your hair does need a little TLC.”  She sounded just like Rachel Green.

“Can you help me?” I asked shyly.

“Sure,” she answered with a smile.  She was so nice!  I always knew she and I would make good friends.  Jennifer grabbed a brush and turned me away from the mirror then went to work.  She pulled and tugged and twisted and sprayed my hair with some kind of magic potion from her oversize purse.  A few minutes later she whirled me around and Voila! MY hair was red carpet ready. It was even a little longer.  I’m not sure how she pulled that one off… I felt a surge of confidence and I turned to hug my friend.

“What time are you supposed to be there?” she asked.

“6:45,” I answered.  Her eyes grew wide.

“Kelli!  It’s already 8:21!”

“No!” I kissed her on the cheek and dashed out of the bathroom.  I needed to get back up to the cabin to retrieve my car keys and make my way to the meet up point.  I tore up the steep hill that had somehow  become covered in snow.  As I climbed I found a pair of my sandals buried in the snow and snatched them up.  They would go perfect with my unfortunate dress.

This is when I woke up in a panic and had to tell myself that none of that happened and I didn’t miss the VP Parade, which I am singing in tomorrow morning.  Jennifer Aniston did not do my hair and last I checked there were no snow covered mountains in St. Louis.

Phew.

If you are in the area and want to come down and watch tomorrow morning, I will be on the Riverboat float singing dixieland.  Look for the girl in a muumuu made out of curtains.  Or in a min-skirt if my dream proves to be at all prophetic.  It starts at 10:00am (and yes, I have to be there no later than 6:45) and heads down 4th and Market.  It ends near Union Station.

Jennifer (can I call you Jen?) if you’re in town, meet me on 4th street at 6:00.  Me and my hair will probably need your help.

Image credit

Time Capsule

 

An empty shell

 

Each room echoing with memory

 

Laughter, love, a haven

More than bricks and mortar

Each room a time capsule of life lived

Blessings fulfilled

We said goodbye and now we decompress

 

New memories await us.

Right now, though…

Wine awaits me.

The sliver of light

When I arrived home from Cali the other night, it was wickedly late.  I stumbled to bed and switched off the lamp that my husband had so thoughtfully left on for me.  Though I was tired to my core, sleep was a bit elusive.  The impending move out of our house has proven to push my mind over the edge.  But there’s more than that.  My mind was full of details that began to oppress my already fragile emotions.

As I lay in the darkness, I willed myself to fall asleep.  I watched the clock slowly tick the hours away.  1:30. 2:30…I finally started to drift off when I felt the room go from darkness to light instantaneously.  I opened my eyes in a bit of a panic to see Lee’s iPad, which was sitting on his bedside table, illuminated.  I figured he must get some kind of notification for emails and closed my eyes again.  Five minutes later the room lit up again.  And I got annoyed.  Who emails at 3:00 in the morning?

Then I marveled at how bright the room was from that one tiny light of the screen.  Turns out he gets weather notifications and his iPad was warning us of the impending storm that rolled through ten minutes later.  But the visual of the light piercing the darkness stuck with me.

As already mentioned, I had a wonderful time in California, but it was hard too.  I was processing a lot of emotions.  And on top of that, the subject matter of the novel I’m writing is oftentimes hopeless and desperately sad.  As I researched the events surrounding World War II, I found myself terribly sad.  The darkness of that time is so deep and as I read story after story of heartache, my stomach turned into a tighter and tighter knot.  I wondered how I would portray the characters in my novel with any sort of redemption, any sort of hope.

And then I saw it.  That one sliver of light that pierced the darkness.

Hope.

As I read the personal accounts of survival during those heinous years of war, I saw a thin trail of Hope.  One woman described seeing a tiny sprig of green growing from the frozen ground as she marched to the concentration camp.  Why did that small plant stick out in her mind?  It was Hope.  It was the knowledge that after winter, spring arrives.  After death, life springs forth.  A sliver of light in the pitch black can illuminate a whole room.

I read an account from a young mother whose infant was killed at birth by her Nazi captivators.  And she rejoiced, because a swift death was better than a slow one behind the barbed wires.  Did her heart ache?  I imagine it tore into a thousand tiny pieces and was never fully reassembled.  But she saw the sliver of light and sometimes that’s all we need to guide us through the darkness.

I read story after story like this.  Some of them were so horrific, I didn’t see how there could possibly be any hope – any redemption.  But many of the stories had a sliver.  Enough to give me the emotional strength to keep reading.  It was the same when I went to Ukraine nine years ago.  I interviewed veteran after veteran and saw so much Hope.  They were happy, jovial and so full of light that I wondered how they possibly survived such horror with their spirits in tact.  That’s the redemption of so many of their stories.  And that spirit is what I hope to capture in my characters.

A blade of green amidst the rubble.

Darkness is repelled by light – even the smallest sliver of it.  Sometimes the darkness is still oppressive and the pain remains ever constant, but that tiny bit of Hope is what keeps us going.  For me, that tiny sliver of Hope is the thing that keeps me moving forward with this book project.  It’s the tiny bit of light in an otherwise very dark story.  I am reminding myself to focus on Hope as I continue to research and write.  If I don’t, I fear the heartache will become too much.

California

Welcome to my new blog design!  I decided a couple of months ago that it was time to give this space a little more POP!  And Franchesca of Small Bird Designs was the perfect girl for the job.  Hasn’t she done a wonderful job?!  Hang on, hang on!  I need to introduce you to my favorite feature!!!

Watch the header for a minute.  Keep watching.  Keeeeep watching…

Did you see it?!

Fran sent me numerous templates with different color backgrounds and I just couldn’t make a decision on which color I liked best.  So I asked her if she could do all of them in a rolling header and POOF!  She did it.  She’s like my Fairy Godmother, she is.  She’s gotten all kinds of telepathic hugs and high fives from me for her magical design.

I’m still working out a couple of little details, but mostly I’m just desperately happy with these new changes.  And did you notice the picture of my van up top?  See how the sun just gleamed off of it?  It’s like the angels were smiling down on her hotness…

So I’m still in California.  It’s been just an absolutely amazing few days.  I can’t really describe how much my soul needed this break.  I have been loved and poured into and fed and graced and blessed.  I have written a lot – about 60 pages!  I have edited.  I have read and cried and laughed and slept.  It has just been so wonderful here in Clear Lake, California (which, incidentally is one of the most beautiful places in America…you should visit!).

Today we visited a local winery for a lavender festival.  Stunning is the only word I can use to describe it.  I didn’t bring my camera on this trip (what was I thinking?!) so all I have are a few cell phone photos.  But you’ll get the idea.  I am immensely grateful for these five days I’ve gotten away.  I will go home refreshed and ready to tackle next steps.

The Lavender field

Magic and Beauty

My friend Wendy has fed us like Princesses

Catch me at (in)courage today!

I love the (in)courage website.  Love it, love it, love it.  I think the women there are amazing and gifted and talented and none of them know that they are my secret BFF’s.

I had a conversation with Tia on our last trip to Florida that really struck me and I wanted to share it with others so I decided to submit it to the lovely ladies of (in)courage.  I am humbled and honored and baffled and thrilled to have been given the honor to share my words with their readers.  And with you!  You can find me over there today and I truly, deeply hope you are as blessed by this post as I was when writing it!

“Look at this, Mom!”

She rises out of the water, her mask pressed tight around her tiny face. Holding up her treasure, I examine it closely.

“That’s a beautiful shell,” I tell her, taking it delicately in my hand. It is perfect and smooth – completely unblemished. “Would you like me to hold it for you while you dive for more?”

She thinks for a moment, her five year old brain contemplating this offer. “Nah,” she says after a brief pause. She grabs it out of my hand and tosses it back into the waiting ocean where it’s immediately swallowed by the salty water. Taking a deep breath, she plunges yet again.

Click here to read the rest of the post.

The one where Calgon takes me away

I actually just had to consult with Professor Google on what exactly Calgon is.  It’s body fragrancewho knew?!  I always assumed it was some sort of lotion for muscle pain similar to IcyHot or Bengay.

I was way off.

Yesterday was a rough day.  I’ll mercifully spare you the details, but it was a knot in your stomach crazy kind of day.  I really want my house to be the house that all my children’s friends come to.  I like knowing who is here and what they’re saying and doing.  But on knot in your stomach crazy kind of days…it’s just harder.  The noise is louder.  The work feels like work. The kids weren’t bad ( not all of them, anyway – there’s always one trouble maker), but I was tired and didn’t feel well and overwhelmed and the day felt long.

But today?

Today I am on a plane to sunny Northern California where I have the privilege of sitting in the presence of my dear friend Wendy for five whole days.  Wendy and I met  when we were both newlyweds living in the Dallas, Texas area.  I will never forget our first phone conversation.  Lee had come home from a Bible study the night before and told me about this wonderful guy he met whose wife sounded very similar to me.

“She likes to drink tea!” Lee exclaimed.  My sweet new husband who was still baffled by my girly love of tea parties.

The next morning the phone rang.  “I hear you like to take tea,” she said, her voice all warm and buttery and laced with smile.  And that was the beginning of one of the dearest friendships of my life.

Wendy and I have only lived in the same town for just under two years but our hearts were knit tight together through God’s grace..and through our love for writing, tea and wifedom (that should totally be a word).  We spent countless hours those Dallas years talking about our passion for writing and teaching and speaking and learning and loving and growing.  And we drank a lot of tea.

I get to soak up my dear friend for almost an entire week and my soul soars at the thought.  I also get to spend some time alone, releasing the characters in my head.  They’re up there, churning and begging to get out.  Sometimes I’m afraid of it, though.  I’m scared of the story and of letting the characters down.  Because the story in my head is beautiful and what if I mess it up?  What if the trip from my head to my fingertips tarnishes the story and the people?

What if I fail?

These are my honest fears.  I love writing, but I’m sometimes unsure of whether or not I have the gift to pull off the massive story I long to tell.  Realistically, I know I’m not the best writer out there.  I think it’s my lack of inner angst that holds me back…

Whatever the case, I know I’m not the best, but I also know that I have a story to share and I know I have the ability to tell it.  I just really want to tell it well.  This desire is why it’s taken me ten years to complete this book.  I really don’t want to screw this up!

So I will write with full abandon this week.  I will let go and try really hard not to go back and judge my work along the way.  That’s a terrible, terrible habit.  One should never edit her own work before she’s even finished it.   Stephen King said so himself and given the fact that his book is the most inspirational book on writing I’ve ever read, I’m going to submit myself to Mr. King’s urgings and plow forward without looking back.  My soul will rest in friendship (have I mentioned that one of my very dearest friends from here in town is joining us on this writer’s weekend away?  How blessed am I!) and in solitude and in the joy that comes from allowing God to use my gifts and talents to His glory, because that is my deepest desire.

And when I return I will bid adieu to my home and embark on a new adventure.  It is exciting, this tiny little life I lead.

I’ll be back this week.  I have a something fun and special to share with you on Friday.  Stay tuned.

Happy Bulleted Monday

Alternately titled: My Super Lame Post

– I have nothing ground breaking to say today.  I probably shouldn’t even be posting.  But I’m a blogging junkie so I feel the need to subject you to all kinds of random.  I’m compelled.

– I’m sorry.

– I’ve gotten two solid nights sleep in a row.  Break out the bubbly!  I may or may not have taken a tiny little sleep aid to help make that happen.  It became quickly apparent that if I didn’t do something to get more sleep I was not going to be emotionally capable of handling the move out of the house.

– Speaking of the move, we packed our first POD this weekend.  The walls of my home are echoing now.  And I am walking through my days singing this song on a continuous loop:  01 Sentimental Journey That’s me singing, by the way.  It was recorded at a gig I sang at last January.  And I can’t get the song out of my head, folks.  I AM on a sentimental journey.  I look at my empty house and I see my life.  I remember walking through the front door with the weight of a newborn in my arms and the rush of new mom emotions in my heart.  I see my kids first teetering little steps, I hear baby cries and giggles, I see toddlers sipping hot chocolate for the first time, I hear first words spoken and I watch the progression of my life as a Mom.  I see our life so clearly for the last eight years in this sweet little house.

Or maybe I’m just seeing ghosts…I dunno.

– In two days I’m getting on a plane bound for Northern California where I will spend the rest of the week working on my novel in solitude, catching up with sweet friends in the evening and soaking up some perspective as I step away from it all.  The timing couldn’t be worse, but the trip was planned months before the closing of our house was and I can’t help think that God needs to get me by myself for awhile.  Probably to get me off that sentimental train.  So maybe the timing is just right.

– I’m getting my hair fixed today.  I say fixed for a reason.  It’s painfully crazy right now.  Think two toned straw…that’s what’s on top of my head.

– A bulleted post leads to random, boring facts you never knew you wanted, doesn’t it?

– Father’s Day was yesterday. I hope that didn’t come as a surprise to any of you.  Can I just tell you how blessed I am?  I am surrounded by amazing fathers: My dad, my father-in-law and my husband.  I have so much respect for these three men that sometimes I feel like I might burst.  They are wise, funny, loving and precious and I’m beyond grateful for each one.

– I hear Landon stirring in the next room, which can only mean one thing: My quiet morning is about to implode.  He wakes up sure that the world itself is going to come to an end unless he gets a drink immediately. There is wailing and weeping and whining galore until that sippy cup hits his lips, at which point he turns from devil child back to an angel.

– Apple juice has magic powers.

– I took the kids to the Botanical Gardens last Friday.  It was a ton of fun and I got great pictures…until the sky turned green and melted into an ugly storm while the kids and I were trapped inside a glass encased building with Sloan huddled on my lap praying fervently for the second coming of Christ.

– I told Tia how babies get out of a Mommy’s tummy a couple of weeks ago.  Her reaction was priceless.  I’ll share the full story soon.

– This is the part of the post when I quit subjecting you to the random that is floating through my muddied brain.  I’m off to fill that ever important cup of juice and begin yet another day of packing up my earthly possessions.  Fun.

– I can’t think of a clever way to end this post I’m just going to leave you with this to start your week off right:

You’re welcome.

A Wisp of a Girl

I see her clearly – a wisp of a girl.  Thirteen.  Awkward.  All knees and elbows, teetering between innocence and angst.  She is loved well, but a certain enemy awaits.  She doesn’t know it and isn’t prepared for it.  And she falls.

“You’re fat,” someone says to her.  The wisp of a girl, without an ounce of fat on her body, laughs.  Then she wonders.

I see her clearly – a wisp of a girl.  She’s looking at a magazine and for the first time notices shape.  Long, tall, thin.  Is that perfection?  She studies the mirror and her eyes cloud.  She knows the Truth.  She’s heard it a lot.

Fearfully.

Wonderfully.

Image.

God.

Made.

Like the whisper of wind through tall grasses, these words float across her heart.  But this time, another wind, less gentle, rough like that of a tornado tears through her.

Ugly.

Fat.

Not perfect.

And she believes it, the wisp of a girl.

I see her very clearly – a wisp of a girl.  She is older now, having grown through the awkwardness that defines junior high.  She is beautiful, but she doesn’t think so.  Though she has been loved well, there are misguided comments from those who just don’t know better.  The hormonal teenage boy whose image of perfection is more skewed that her own.  “You’re not super skinny,” he says, and he’s right.  The wisp of a girl has developed a muscular physique – strong, lean…she’s not the waif that defined beauty in her generation.

The wisp of a girl also replays the voice of her coach over and over, like a broken record.  “You sound like a cow when you run.”  It was a comment made in passing – lighthearted and teasing.  But despite all that she knows to be true:

Fearfully.

Wonderfully.

Image.

God.

Made.

She believes the other voices – the louder voices.  Not perfect. Not skinny.  Cow.

I see her, the wisp of a girl.  She is allowing herself to be defined by the louder voices now.  The sound of the wind in the grasses is almost totally snuffed out.  In it she hears words like disordered and dangerous. The wisp of a girl is getting lost.  Does she hide this shame or wear it as a badge for attention?  She doesn’t know.  If she advertises, someone might take the shame away from her.  So she tries to keep it hidden.  But she’s never been good at keeping secrets and before long the wisp of a girl is in a counselor’s office. Tears.  Shame.  Frustration.

The wisp of a girl.

I see her now, the wisp of a girl.  She’s away from home, away from accountability, away.  College.  In the quiet of night, the tornado rips through her mind and her heart and she can’t seem to shake the destruction it causes.  She’s gotten better at hiding it, this wisp of a girl.  But the devil isn’t gone completely.  He’s still there, waiting.  Comparing.  And the wisp of a girl, still small, wants only to be smaller still.

This wisp of a girl is so loved, so poured into, that a new beast begins to take over.  Guilt. Now more than ever, she knows the Truth.

Fearfully.

Wonderfully.

Image.

God.

Made.

She knows this, and she believes it.  But…

I see her now, the wisp of a girl who’s grown into a woman.  She’s in a white dress and standing at the end of the aisle is a man who loves her completely.  He loves her perfectly.  He thinks she is beautiful – fearfully, wonderfully beautiful.  Perfect.  And she knows it, but she doubts.  She doesn’t know why, but she still doubts.  The tornado is strong still.  And the inner torment brings even greater shame.

Until…

The wisp of a girl cries out to Jesus.  It’s not the first time she’s done so, but it’s the first time she’s felt total and complete surrender and, for the first time, the tender whispers drown out the tornado of lies.  In one brief moment, the girl is healed.

Miraculous.

Sometimes I still see her, that wisp of a girl.  I stand before the mirror and look closely and the tornado winds swirl.  I’m not who she was, but she is who I am today.  The doubts like to surface every once in awhile, reminding me of the wisp of a girl who was so innocent, so naive, so fooled.  But the healing experienced that day years ago is the constant that keeps me going.  The whispers are louder and greater and Truth reigns leaving me to rest in healing.

I watch her now, my wisp of a girl.  Innocent, beautiful, lovely and perfect.  In the stillness of the night, I whisper prayers over her, for her.  In the silent black, I whisper my prayers like the wind across tall grasses, a hedge of protection that I hope keeps the voices of dissent away from her heart.  Protection.  Love.  Truth.

Fearfully.

Wonderfully.

God.

Image.

Made.

These are the things I want my wisp of a girl to know and embrace.