When I was Eleven

I wanted to be Nadia Comaneci. She was the big deal back when I was a kid. My family watched the 1976 Summer Olympics faithfully. It didn't matter that I was a bit overweight or had never taken a gymnastics class. That was my wish. Someday.
Nadia was cute with her dark, short ponytails. She was darling and daring. She was fit and muscular. She moved effortlessly. She was everything I wasn't or thought I wasn't.
My dad and stepmom encouraged my little sister and me as we did cartwheels and round offs over and over in their front yard. That was the extent of our tumbling skills and they weren't very pretty, but the way my stepmom was sincerely delighted at our antics was edifying.
It took 'way too long for me to realize that everything has a price. You have to work for muscles, smarts, skills, etc. Somehow I didn't connect ability with persevering effort. Of course, I know I could have worked at gymnastics for years and years and never even be able to do a round-off handspring, but I am thinking about the other things in life that requires hard work and persistent struggle.
I don't know whether it's the idealist in me, the naivete, or laziness that didn't connect hard work and achievement. Perhaps it was the perfectionist in me that kept me back from trying things from fear of failure. Whatever it was, it took an either-or situation to fuel the fire of I'm-so-doing-this spirit under my feet or my tush. (I love a little yiddish thrown into a story.)
It took seven years of one-college-class-per-semester, raising a family, and a full-time job, to get a degree and a teaching certificate. Now I am teaching elementary school students. It has been a ride, let me tell you! I love it and, at times, hate it. I am grateful for the opportunity to work with children, most days. But looking back through all the delights and all-I-want-to-do-is-scream-my-guts-out, (mostly from my interactions with adults) I remember the moment I knew I was going back to college. I was driving over the bridge that spans the Sugar River between Broad Street and Washington and thought, "Now I will be someone."
At that exact moment, my beautiful, gracious Father God, said to my heart, "Who are you?"
He was reminding me that I am His and He is mine. He is my Beloved One and I am His. So much grace.
That truth is beyond being a professional, a teacher, a successful whatever, or even a beautiful, young Olympic champion. It has been an indescribable life journey from feeling rejected, ugly, and insignificant (even when there were people who loved me-- but that's another tale) to knowing I am deeply, irrevocably loved by the God of the Universe who does not ever change His mind. He does love me and always will. Eleven-year-old self, keep going. Don't give up. Your Champion is there. You just don't see Him yet.
There are so many paradoxes in God's kingdom. Work and grace. Perseverance and rest. Remember what He has done and forget what is behind. I appreciate the complexity and the simplicity of my God more and more knowing I will never fathom his ways, because I know He is good.

All the Same to Him

All the Same to Him


Gifts or weakness
They're all the same to God
He can use it all for good
Just be the Church

Nobody would choose
the way He works
Wisdom looks like foolishness
But faith says
Who would you trust
God, self, or others?

Gifts and brokenness
All for His glory
All for the Kingdom
King Abba, good Papa

Trust in the Father
Not your weary heart
His name is Faithful
His name is Truth
Discover who he made you to be
Be, just be

Nobody would choose
the way He works
Wisdom looks like foolishness
But love says
Trust Jesus, trust the One
The One Who knows your heart

I Only Dance in Church

Why do I dance?

Beautiful glory
I feel the passion of Your heart
Feel the beat of Your heart

The only time,
I only dance in church

No words, there are no words
to speak of Your beauty

A part of me understands
the strength and breadth of Your love

And it comes out when
it's time to dance in church
Faithful, soul-shaking beat
The beat of a Good Father's heart
for me
for me
for me and for you

Do you feel the Father's heart?
Will you receive the Father's
pure and tender touch?
He is waiting, gently, patiently
Waiting for a chance to dance

Praise Him with a dance
The dance of the grateful
His pleasure is in His people
The Father enjoys His children

The only time,
I only really dance in church
Faithful, spirit-shaking beat
The beat of a Good Father's heart
for me
for me
for me and for you