Look Alive

22 March 2011

One Way...

"Freedom of Choice" ('88 til Infinity)
(c) Psalmbody/PMLLC
Extra? Read all about it...

This street junction as well as millions of other sights, sounds and scents shaped my early growth back in Queens. Needless to say, the appeal of life and death, blessings and curses, God and idols is available to everyone daily. Do we train our sights on things and energy above or, as then fellow local and occasionally spotted schoolgirl crush Kamaal Ibn John Fareed (nĂ© Q-Tip of A Tribe Called Quest) opposed, make "time to wallow in the mire"? The answer is actually very simple and plain to see. The quests we send our ions on for understanding, however, seldom are.

Sadly, wrong turns, distorted reflections, laying claim to energy and even positive imagery that isn't ours happen. Count to 10 if you must, count the present blessings and count on God to handle then reveal the rest at Will. Regardless of where I am physically, victimhood is not a state I subscribe to. That just wouldn't befit a daughter of the King (nor would it be very New York). Between discerning the thorns, applying pressure to small cuts and finally savoring the Holy Spirit's fragrance, though, the Word said "psst... tolerance to the point of hopefully teaching the Way of Christ by example is a better, very New You."

Having loved living near the corner of Babylon before, a move of God and makeover were certainly in order. I happen to find my do very becoming! Never mind that some may misunderstand or not like your look, it will fit perfectly! Heaven and Earth bear witness to the new style our Maker will design of your life. The Door yet stands open for us to step lively through to our liberty. That being said, the month of March is almost over, but by His Grace, we will go forward. Take the time you are gifted and choose where you will go, what you will do and how. Left. Right.

21 March 2011

A Leap of Faith :: In Divine Season

Greetings good people!

Although some of last week's weather already whispered or shouted the idea in our ears, they say Spring is upon us today. In part, the tragic extremes of Japan's earthquake and tsunami activity as well as the warm mildness some other areas experienced both represent the highly r/evolutionary energy of the season. Advertisers would have you believe that candy, fuzzy bunnies and pastels capture the fullness of the time. Chances are, however, seeds in animal, plant or thought forms have rested quietly in winter's stillness. Of those that survived the harsh conditions of cold, scarce resources and their many predators, etc., they now make a challenging way past those obstacles to receive the nourishing development of sunshine, direct moisture and hopefully release what should be a sweet sense (not stench) of purpose.

Whether we apply this time and energy to clean out the old, tend to the new sprouting forth or a blend of both, may we take the suggestion of fave psalmist Donald Lawrence and walk into this season to the Glory of our Holy Creator! Considering that resolutions of poor diet, associations, habits and the like are the most popular type of those thoughtform seeds, I trust we could all pray each other's strength in shedding some old, unhealthy skin. Between last week's scarce posts, I made some expected travels (kinda cross-pollinating the necessary good) and witnessed some unexpected surprises. Somewhere in there, I'd even dreamed a couple came to me with a baby boy who was beautiful but still or becoming somewhat frail in health. I only recall embracing the child and warming him with love to the best of my ability before I awoke. I thought and said nothing of it until now, as it had no immediate interpretation but seems to resonate with the next few thoughts here. 

In the life season that the teacher hat fit my head best, my classes with high schoolers were areas of great mutual blessing and growth. My girls would learn that pack mentality didn't prevent accountability nor could rolled eyes and limited sass force an "A" from me. My boys would learn that mishandling or slandering the girls who thought they controlled them but knew nothing of the other girls was unfair and would eventually come back on them, as they were all somewhat lost in the sea of bubbling emotions and abilities. In time, I would regard them as my own. They would regard me as "Miss-justdotheworkshe'ssweetbutshewillgetatallofusandI'mtellingyousheknowswhatthatmeans-T". I thank God for the time we had and wonder how they fare sometimes.  

Out of the clear blue last week, a grandmother of two of the boys called me. Since ours were only a few, brief meetings, I just knew she had forgotten about me, much less my number from the one disciplinary call I made. This was where the mutual notion of the blessing came in and how I learned that the youth had silently gotten to know me too. Apparently, they heard the occasional hum through the halls or maybe even witnessed an afterschool moment of musical abandon as any number of favorite CDs and I drove off. One day back then, the elder brother, an extremely gifted musician who could be seen fingering chords on his desk instead of turning the pages of the assigned literature often enough, shyly asked me to attend and maybe sing at a service where he would be ordained as a minister of music. I obliged and in memory of his departed mother, he sang and played the "Seasons" song referenced above.

I also met the grandmother who in turn invited me to use any form to represent the Biblical figure of Esther for her church's women's symposium later in the year. I agreed and chose a song I love that addressed in a contemporary manner Esther's partial plight of getting through to the inaccessible king Xerxes. I already had plans to make it back to my hometown, so I had to get on the road -- again -- and couldn't stay for the whole service. The time we had in the Lord came first, though, and was enjoyed all the same. During her call inviting me to this year's symposium, she shared an appreciation for my working with the young men I "probably wouldn't recognize if [I] saw them, how they've grown" and mentioned the new theme of "Women Wailing for Jesus".

The dream of handing the manchild back healthier for a moment, recent posts' reference to crying out and some lyrics I hope to debut soon might have had agreement with the pastor's words, but wailing? I can't help but feel that a deeper manifestation of that remains to be seen. In light of what the "wailing" linked scriptures say and come what may, verses 5-7 and 11-12 of Psalm 30 hold an important key to encourage us as we break through our cold, dark or hard places and lean towards the Son. Remember that tears can represent our joys as well as our pains. There will always be things that we won't fully understand without God. The point is to birth the respect and honor within Creation that God, our Creator, deserves from us.

Our wailing can turn to a joyous praise in time. Let us never take for granted that Grace is a given, but yield to the Holy Spirit's Guidance by faith, so both where we look and where we leap are pleasing to Christ and us through the results that emerge from beneath the surface.