Beautiful

 

I took a trip down memory lane today; listening to old songs that spoke to my heart back when I was young.  Of course, I was like any other teenage girl, viewing the world through eyes of wonder, and comparing myself to all the other girls, movie stars, mothers, aunts, and never seeing who I really was. In all honesty, it was not until recently, that I did see myself as who I have become, who I was, and who the world views me as.  In all reality, I still may not have a grip on that. 

I was a tall, gangly girl, and from my point of view, my feet were too big.  Grandad complimented me on that and said I would never tip over.  Again, from my point of view, my legs were too long, but again, Grandad said I would never trip over things I stepped over.  I didn't have the creamy smooth skin and beautiful dark hair that many of my peers had; I was a curly red head with freckles.  

I attempted with all my might to attain the the attributes of what I considered beauty.  After nearly making myself bald when I tried to iron my hair straight with an iron from the stove, and multiplying my freckles from trying to "run" them together to create a tan, I finally gave up on that aspect of beauty, and began to starve myself, so that, in my mind, at least my body would match my legs and arms.  No matter what I did, I could not seem to fit myself to the image I had of what beauty was.  I wanted to be like all the other girls.  And the only reason that I wanted to be that way, was to be accepted.  


After years of self-deprivation, mutilation by hair dye and chemicals, torture by tight clothing and starvation, I finally gave it all up.  But I still didn't see who I was.  It was not until my minds eye was off of myself, that I finally began to see myself as God had created me. It happened quite by chance that I was going through boxes of photos from days long ago, and I found a picture of myself with my baby girl.  I was shocked at what I saw.  For the young woman I saw before me was beautiful.  But there was something more to her than met the eye.  She had a sort of wistful sadness about her that seemed to draw me back to that time, and showed me who I was then.  I realized how much of my life had been wasted trying to be someone I was not. 


Strangely, not but a few months later, I met up with one of my old school mates.  She was one of those glowing, dark haired beauty's that I was trying so hard to be when I was in high school.  And she recounted to me how she never felt like she fit in.  I was amazed at that, but had already begun to see that I was not alone in my quest to "fit in".  Before me stood one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen, and she had felt the same way.  


Somewhere, in those long years of self-torture, I had remembered sitting on the back porch with my Grandad and watching the sunset.  He pointed out to me the beautiful colors, the rise and fall of the clouds, the rays shining through the pink and orange of the sky.  And he also pointed out that the sunset we were seeing was totally different from all the others ones we had seen before, and there would never be another one like it.  True, there were similarities, because they were all made of the same substance.  But each one was hand-crafted by God, to give its' beauty in its' own time. 


We are each like a sunset.  None of us the same, though made of the same stuff.  All of us, created for our own moment of beauty, and all of us made beautiful in our own time.  I hope somewhere some young girl reads this and realizes that her view of herself may not be what she would like, but she is still a creation of God, and beautiful in her own time and season.  Because she truly is just that. Beautiful. 
Copyright © 2011 by Susan Linn-Gomez. All Rights Reserved.

The Stuff Dreams are Made of.

It was a cold night.  She was sad, but she didn't know why, and on top of that, she had to leave somewhere, but she didn't know where.  All she knew was at the time; she was in a fight with her cousin.  She tugged his sleeve, looked up into Bob's eyes and begged him not to leave.  He just gave her a kiss on the forehead and headed off into the night. Fast forward now.

She was with her brother, south side of town in a surly district.  Thugs were lined up in the street, eyeing those they could beat up and rob.  Her brother hugged her close and said" Don't look 'em in the eye, keep your head down, and stay close to me." As they crept along side the house, out to the car, she looked from the corner of her eye, and saw them, as vast an army as she had ever seen, in hooded sweatshirts, lined up ready to attack, but for some reason they did not see her... She could hear them yelling to come out of the house. Why didn't they see her?  She held her breath, as she crept alongside her brother to the car. When she reached down into her coat pocket, there was her son!!  Tiny, little Nathan, grabbing her hair, clutching at her to hold him close.  But when she looked again, he was gone.  She looked in the car seat, she looked up on the workbench in the garage, she looked everywhere, and finally there he was on the kitchen table.  How on earth did she forget him?  She reasoned with herself, but her fear of the crowd outside kept her from reason.  As she made her way to the car, holding her precious little one, suddenly, a man approached her.  He said, "We got it all on viral video... How you lost your kid... and it is going to be on the internet tonight. You are in trouble Lady!"

Then she woke.  Tears, heart pounding.. Looking around she realized this was her room, her bed, her window.  Bob was in heaven, John was in Colorado, and Nathan was a grown man.  All of that stress.. but for what reason?
 
I am convinced that we work out our troubles in our dreams.  I know I do.  Not that having crazy dreams or even nightmares is exactly healthy, but somehow it helps me to identify what is going on inside my head.  This was my dream last night.  Fearful, running, scared, losing my cousin, losing my son, losing my way.

In my dream, I was trying to work out everything myself.  I was not asking for help, I was running scared.  I was not stopping to think, I was running on emotion.  In reality, in my waking hours, I have learned that the first and only place I need to turn to is the Source of all things.  God has all the answers.  He knows where someone went, He knows where I am, where I am going, and He has a grip on the situation.  When my reality turns to nightmares, He wakes me up to the fact that He has my life in His hands, He will take care of me and always has, and all those I care for and pray for. 

Was my dream a warning from God?  I don't think so, I think it was more a recognition that I have suffered a lot of loss this past week, and haven't really dealt with it.  The part about my son; because I am missing him and his family.  My fear of losing him triggered that part of the dream.  The part about the thugs hanging around?  There are always thugs in your life, waiting for opportunity to scare you, hurt you, or paralyze you with fear so that you are useless.  Apparently, I seem to have many thugs the past week, Death being the biggest of the bullies.  However, I know something the thugs don't know. 






In the end, we win. 

Psalm 46:1 - 6.  "God is our refuge and our strength.  A very present help in trouble.  Therefore we will not fear, even though the earth be removed and though the mountains be carried away into the midst of the sea: Though it's waters roar and are troubled, though the mountains shake with its swelling. 

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God: the holy place of the tabernacle of the Most High. God is in the midst of her.  She shall not be moved.  God shall help her, just at the break of dawn."

Copyright © 2011 by Susan Linn-Gomez. All Rights Reserved. 

Blow Fish Or Edible Fish?

I was writing this morning, in ink, which is something I rarely do anymore, but it just felt so good!  However, when I took a break and went out into the sunshine, I noticed I had tattooed myself with my messy ink pen. A closer look showed that it was clearly a picture of a Blow Fish.  Spines and all.  It made me think about something I was reluctant to write about,  and reminded me that I am not just writing for my own pleasure, but to edify, or teach.  And that reminded me that there has been something on my mind since the funeral of my friend last week.

There was a man, a minister, who gave the eulogy, and it was clear from his speech he was very comfortable in entertaining the ears of the crowd.  However, about half way through, he lost half of his audience because of one statement he made.

Yes, he covered the point of resurrection, salvation, etc.  But once he got into high gear and started quoting the Bible, he turned to Romans 8:28.  Very good scripture, about how all things work together for those who love God and are the called according to his purpose.  He could have blessed these grieving souls with that, but he chose to continue on and take the entire passage out of context, and preach his own gospel.  What he took out of context was the part about those who love God.  The gospel he added was "God doesn't love all of you. Only the ones who love Him."

My hair stood on end, but I kept silent.  The crowd, however, was not so forgiving.  There were quiet "no's' rumbling through the audience, a few loud "NO's" and then I saw some people exit the room.  He tried to recover, but he would not recant his statement.  Shortly thereafter the "gathering" broke up.  I think I could hear my friend saying from beyond, "Slap that man!"

I did not stay for the meal.  I did not want to disrupt the family with some outburst.  I wanted to make the day as easy for them as I could, and I felt that my presence would probably somehow bring about some discourse that would not be edifying, so to speak.  My daughter, however, because my friend was her aunt, was expected to attend, and off she went dutifully.

I heard from her later that a controversy broke out at the dinner.  Apparently, she was not the instigator, but she was the one who stood up to speak the whole truth.  She told me that she presented, in contrast to the minister's view, the fact that John 3:16 states that God LOVED THE WHOLE WORLD!  She also brought up a scripture she had heard but couldn't remember where it was, and promised some of the dissenting crew she would get back to them with the scripture.  And that one was the one where Paul tells us that God loved us BEFORE we were His, and that is why he sent his son to die for the world.  I was amazed at the maturity of this young woman, and had to pinch myself to be sure this was my baby girl I was hearing.  Then I gloated a little.  In short, I became as much of a Blow Fish as that Minister had been.  Until today, I had thought about this, but had not been convicted enough of my own fault, and focusing on the fault of the Minister, to sit down and take in the ramifications of all that went on that day.

I looked up the scripture, in Romans 5:6 - 8, where he says that God loves us even if we are not believers.  I wondered how on earth that scripture had stuck in my little girls head for so long.  We haven't studied the Bible together in several years, since she became an adult.  And then it occurred to me.  My daughter was not a Blow Fish that day, she was an edible fish, a tangible tool in the hands of God to speak His word in truth, with out fear of repercussion, even though that is what happened.  She did not back down, she stood her ground.  And she spoke the whole truth.

I have heard it said that a partial truth is a lie.  I believe this to be true, and that is what that Minister spoke to the people that day.  He barred the sheep from entering the fold.  He put restrictions on their salvation that even God did not do.  But then so did I.  Because I did not stand up to speak the truth.  However, God provided for Himself, someone who He knew would do the job.

When we become so consumed with Self, either thinking we are more, as in the case of the minister, or less than what we actually are, as in my case, we make ourselves unusable in the hands of God.  We are not called to bar the gates of heaven to any one, we are not called to judge.  We are not called to teach hatred and separation.  We are called to love like Christ and live like Christ. Even to those who hate, cause division, and wreck peoples lives.  We are called to stand up and be the hands and feet of Him who loved us first.

I am regretting my 'Blow Fish" actions.  I am regretting that I was not willing to let God use me, but I am rejoicing that He provided someone who had the guts to do it.  She gets the blessing that I so easily passed over by being silent.  I can't make any promises, for that would be foolishness, but I can say that I can hope that in the future I will be attentive to hear my Master call me to be the edible fish, not just some big blow hard fish.

Romans 5: 6 - 8   "For when we were still without strength, in due time, Christ died for the ungodly.  For scarcely for a righteous man will one die; yet perhaps for a good man someone would even dare to die.  But God demonstrates His love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."
Copyright © 2011 by Susan Linn-Gomez. All Rights Reserved.