Eclectic Waters

Archive for 2006

Lyndsay digs through the newspaper. Throwing it to the side she nears the bottom of the box. Suddenly her face scrunches up. All eyes are on her as she pulls a brown rotting banana from the box. “That’s digusting!” Her face scrunches into a tighter ball as she turns it in her hands until she finds Justin’s scrawled writing, “Keep digging.” Throwing it at Justin her face loosens in laughter.

She digs deeper into the box for her real present.

do you remember that time we were in the boat and Jesus came walking on the water? I can’t believe you actually got out of the boat. I remember thinking, what a stupid thing to do. But you did it and you actually walked and then you started sinking and I thought, I knew it was a bad idea…

I remember when you were all telling me Jesus’ had risen, and I thought you were all crazy or trying to trick me. There was no way I was going to believe unless I saw it. I wish I could have seen the expression on my own face when he appeared in front of me. I remember putting my fingers to the scars on his hands. I couldn’t believe it…

Remember the time…

So often I, Deanne, read the Bible and feel overwhelmed by all it implies and by the seeming perfection and loftiness of the commands and lifestyles of the disciples. These men built their lives around preaching and sharing God’s word.

But there is a flawed side to each person Christ picked.

I can’t wait to be in heaven, looking at my life, and instead of the guilt and shame I often associate with reflecting on my life — it might actually look more like the above conversations. Like the OM get togethers where we laugh at past mistakes, mistaken judgements and unplanned circumstances.

Remember that time I doubted you Lord –

Remember when I was angry –

Remember when I thought my life was over –

Remember the choice I thought was the right one –

and then swoop, in the blink of an eye, the camera pulls back — filling the screen with a larger perspective and suddenly -

the story is not larger than life,

its life is contained in the shaking of heads,

the telling over steamed coffee in the company of friends,

we all have stories,

and the tragedy that once filled my lungs and the guilt at not being the perfect version I though I should be -

dissipates as I laugh with my Savior at my never ending blunderings

and accept His acceptance of me.

—-

He came into this flawed world — embracing and living in it, experiencing what we experience so we could have a High Priest who could identify with our suffering. He loves us, blundering limited flawed fools, however good our intentions may be,

and He intercedes for us – the Holy Spirit intercedes for us in the Spirit when we do not know what to pray – and the Father sent Him out of His love for us.

With all three of the God-head on our side, who, I ask again, who, can stand against us?

I told my Mum about learning how to boil chicken, “Did you know that when you boil chicken the bloodveins rise to the surface of the water?”

“Gross.”

“What? They do. Didn’t you know that?”

“No. But my raisins don’t look so appetizing anymore.”

the three oldest children of my parents are making their way to the East Coast, South Carolina to be exact. My brother is in the air right now, flying. I will drop my sister off at the airport in an hour and then, the last member of the family, me, will be flying out of San Diego this Friday and into Charlotte, North Carolina, on Saturday.

I can’t wait!

I haven’t seen my family since June and this will be my first time in the house my parents bought. It is the first house they have owned and I feel happy just thinking of them decorating and living in their home.

Rachael and I spent the night shopping, and she gave me my Birthday present. She paid for me to get a pedicure. A first for me, but definately something I wouldn’t mind doing regularly. Sitting back in the vibrating back massage chair I relaxed as the incoherent tones of the workers speaking Chinese rose beside me.

Two of the women in the shop had the same haircut. Short, blond, and carefully curled out hair. They both looked miserable. Serious, well-dressed, put together faces and outfits, but very bored looking. I thought that was sad.

I was happy in my casual sweater, light makeup and flip flops. I tried to catch my face in the mirror and hoped I didn’t look miserable, because I’m not, but who knows, maybe as a person’s face relaxes, they simply look miserable. Maybe that’s what was wrong with the two women and not the personal discontent I was picking up on.

Here’s to loving oneself – the exact shape and style of oneself – hey, if you don’t love it, there are some things that can be done to change it.

Plastic surgery for instance

A year ago I was caught against the net of my mind. Bleeding, my scales were pushed through the small square fibers of the net. My mind was caught in the mad spin of depression as my wheels, caught in the air, flicked dirt into my eyes. I went to the Christmas program twice, or was it three times, and sat through it, trying to focus, keep my mind clear and not to cry. But each time it came to the part about the prodigal son returning and being forgiven, loved and accepted, I cried. I felt I had failed God and His love amazed me.

Today, my mind has been healed. The fisher of men has come, plucked me from the net and healed me. Thank you.

One of my favorite songs at boarding school was written by Danny Plett and played during some of our worship times by Mike Hill.

You heal my wounds Lord, you heal them all.

You wipe the tears from my eyes;

You still the fears in my mind.

You unchain my praise,

Give it wings to fly,

Let it fly straight

To your heart of love.