"DANCING"

     It was a crisp, fall day. Just enough leaves were on the ground to make a crunching noise as I walked the trails through the woods. The leaves, in variegation's of browns, golds and yellows, still clinging to the trees, gave off an illusion of sunlight shining through the canopy above me.

     Twenty minutes of walking was all I needed to complete my exercise routine for that day. With headphones tuned to my latest favorite songs,  the "Tinker Bell Soundtrack", I walked to the beat of the music. Slow and then fast, the songs encouraged me to stay in a healthy rhythm as I stepped and stomped on dry leaves. For my body, it made me healthier. For my spirit, it filled me with joy. Today I could not help but dance.

     Arms moving in unison and in expression to the music, my spirit soared. Joy and elation filled me full. How could I hang onto this jubilation I feel right now, I asked myself. Dancing, marching, stepping, my body soared right along with my spirit.

     Then I saw Him. He took my breath away. I could only stop and stare. He stood in front of me, robe pulled up between His legs and tucked into His belt.

     And then He danced.

     Legs bent high, He awed me with His jubilation. He was dancing to my happiness. He was happy because I was happy.

     I could do nothing but watch, His feet lifting high as He did what seemed to be an Irish Jig. He wanted me to watch Him dance. He wanted me to see what joy I had brought to Him by my joy.

     "Watch how I do it! I'll teach you to do MY dance," He seemed to say. No audible words did I hear, only loud thoughts. That was how I knew it was Him. For that is how He speaks to me...through my thoughts and imagination.

     Dancing, joy, glee, jubilation. We showed each other these things that day. Our joy for each other was united. We were one in our rejoicing of life and living! Each of us filled with the joy and elation of the other.

"CORRECTING A WISH WITH A RENDEZVOUS"



     I had looked forward to this 'alone time' for weeks. The opportunity to finally do things on my own, I would think. I am truly the head of the family, at least for these three days.

     But life is full of surprises. Sometimes when we get what we wish for it's not really what we want.

     I missed my man of 37 years. I  missed him just minutes after he left for his three day camping trip with the men of our church. The days became longer than I'd expected, not seeing him as usual at the end of his work day.

     He would call often from the campground by cell phone and say he missed me, too. I would stay close to the phone so as not to miss his calls. I felt like a teenager missing her boyfriend after seeing him at school.

     He asked what I planned to do while he was gone. I told him of my desire to stroll through the Japanese Garden at Lake Sakajawea; thirty minutes from where I was and an hour and a half from where he was. We made a date, a rendezvous, to meet secretly so as the men of the church wouldn't know our plans. We'd meet for only half an hour, maybe enough time together so we wouldn't miss each other so much. We just might satisfy our loneliness with minutes of togetherness.

     Waiting at our meeting point, I see his car. There he is, I think. I could feel my heart beating faster. How silly a thing love is. After 37 years together and only 27 hours of seperation causes my heart to raise in seeing him again. Oh, how I love this man.

      He held me in his arms. Ahhh, so familiar, so safe, so warm and familiar. My heart knows this place and cozies right down, as if it were being wrapped in a warm quilt.

      No, don't make selfish wishes. They never come to fulfillment....not in the way we think they will.  But sometimes they teach you the truth of something.  In my case, the truth of where my heart is satisfied; with my man of 37 years.

    

"...AND I FLY!"

     I prepare to leave. I’ve exercised and stretched my wings in preparation for this day. I am ready.

     I leave behind family and friends, only for awhile. I will miss them, think about them. When I return I will share visual adventures through the art of words.

     I will return with souvenirs: stories to imprint on their imaginations and inspiration for their own life’s adventures.

     I don’t say goodbye. I rise before anyone else, even before the sun.

     Just as the sun skims above the horizon, I start my assent. Running, I spread my wings and scoop the air underneath them. The very action of fluttering captures atmosphere under each individual feather. Captured, and with no time to escape, air lifts me upward….

     And I fly!

     ‘Anywhere’ is my destination, for I’ve seen nothing of the earth in this way, at this altitude. All destinations are a new adventure; a new danger; a new exploit. I seek beauty from a different perspective. I search for unique objects and creatures and the mystery of life as seen from above it; a possible “God’s perspective”.

     Floating, swooping, gliding.

     It is everything I have dreamed it would be. My body doesn’t hold me back. I flap my wings just once and glide on a soft cushion of air. I am going to ‘Everywhere and Anywhere’. Every possible destination is my goal. No words describe the freedom I am absorbing.

     This is freedom. It must be what the spirit feels when it is released from the bonds of a body. Lightness, joy, elation, jubilation. Only words. It can’t be described by words, only experienced.

      I never want to go back to that earthly life and its gravity. No, never.

      And I fly…

FOLLOWING MY SHADOW

“FOLLOWING MY SHADOW”

(September 1, 2009)

                                    
     I turned to face my own shadow...spread out upon that boggy expanse.

     Having wandered off the path and leaving the other hikers behind, I come to a strange looking wooden walkway.


     Why had this walkway been built in the middle of nowhere? 

    
     Carefully I tested the boards with my foot. Each board seems to give a little on the soggy soil that supports them. They bend, but they dodn't sink. Underneath them, a soggy bog waits to swallow them up and hide their destination forever.

     What is the purpose for this walkway? I wonder.  My curiousity is peaked; I creep forward, testing each step, wanting to descover this hidden destination. 

     The walkway turns away from the sun, winding in an easterly direction. My shadow walks beside me, over the bog and walkway-less. He is braver than I.

      Ok, I think. If my shadow is telling me he is brave, than I should follow.

      I trudged on, knowing I am heading into an unknown place.

      

      I can see, ahead of me, a tangle of trees that this precarious boardwalk leads to. They are hiding something.

 

      I approach the stand of willowy trees. They stand as if they are sentries that guard a hidden perimeter. I see a houseboat floating among a fort of bamboo trees and sprawling vines. 

 

      Nature was protecting this hidden find; a houseboat amid a bog.

 

      "Is anyone here?" I call out.

 

      My voice interrupts the songs of birds and the mating calls of crickets. No answer back.

 

      I enter the houseboat to discover its inner secrets.

 

      Water rats and opossums have built their homes inside. and removed human spaces in order to make them their own.

 

      I move slowly deeper inside the houseboat. My eyes roam about the inner recesses of this camoulaged animal den. Bog animals scatter when they discover they have an intruder. I don't want to disturb thier little paradise, and I turn to leave them. 

 

 

      I retrace my steps, and move a bit faster now that I knew the walkway will hold my weight.

 

      With my shadow in tow, I leave this discovery behind, knowing it is better without me. It had been a mini-adventure.  It remains as a picture in my mind...and I leave it undisturbed there.

     

"DREAMING DALILA"

 

  "DREAMING DALILA"

(June 23, 2010)

    Dalila sat at the waters edge in a state of wonder. How could the world be so beautiful and yet scary at the same time?

    She loved to listen to the stream as it played among the rocks and rills. Little whirlpools swirled here and there. She watched as miniature fish played a game of tag with each other. She had chosen a favorite little fish and cheered him on as he became the winner of the game.

    Her eyes were diverted to a swarm of midge. These tiny bugs had formed a dance troupe above the murmuring stream. They swooped and danced to the waters' song. Right before her eyes, the bugs turned into tiny fairies. With fluttering wings, they danced and swooped to a choreographed waltz; fairy ballerinas delighting in the freedom of being unconfined. Dalila saw herself among them. She was the elegant 'midge-fairy' at the very top of the swarm. She led each one in their best dance. She, as the lead fairy, taught them how to move in grace to the musical stream.

 

     Dalila was a dreamer; from just a girl at the streams edge, to a 'dance teacher of fairies. She had come into her own right....it was the time to dream.

   Her father was a dreamer. Her grandmother was a dreamer. It was now her time to step into her own time of dreaming.

   Where would her dreams take her? She would sit and wonder.

   To places no one else could go. To do things no one else could do. And in these dreams, all her desires would come true...she had come into her inheritance of dreams.

   Passed on from generation to generation, Dalia would find that dreaming would put her farther ahead of others in life. She would become wiser and more thoughtful then other girls her age. She would 'see' things other girls couldn't. They would come to her, not knowing why, to just be where she was. She would draw others to her because she was a "dreamer".

   Dalila would be a 'unique' woman of this world; many friends, many adventures, and find much secret treasure that others would never find.

   Dalila the dreamer had inherited her dream status. And it was uniquely her own. No one was, or ever would be like Dalila the dreamer!

"THE MANY FACES OF GLORIA"

“THE MANY FACES OF GLORIA”

 

    It’s a slap in God’s face to be unsatisfied with who He created you to be. When we try to become someone else or to create in yourself a fake person, it’s as if you are telling God that what He created in you isn’t good enough…isn’t perfect. Didn’t the Holy Spirit tell God the TRUTH when He finished creating you and then said, “She’s finished…and she’s PERFECT!”

   Let me ask you… have you seen anything that God has created that ISN’T perfect? Look at nature. From a blade of grass to the alignment of the planets…each are perfectly made and for a perfect purpose. Why should God’s creation of the human-being be any less perfect?

   My friend, Gloria, is looking for perfection; perfection of God within herself…but without God’s help.

   Here’s her story:

  

   Gloria was raised by a family that didn’t know much about God.

   She was raised by parents that were very social.

   Her parents’ friends were very important to them. So, if there was an imperfection, it was to be hidden so as to not look ‘sociably unacceptable". She, along with her family, frequently wore  “masks”.

  Gloria was taught to ACT at a young age. So, it’s natural that she should ‘act the part’ in every stage of life that she went through as she grew older. Each stage had its own mask. She had these personas perfected.

     Late in life, Gloria found Jesus. For the first year, her salvation gave her the freedom that she sought after. The mask came off……at least for awhile.

   As time went by and God started to grow her up by trials and she realized that she didn’t know as much about God as many others in the church. She’d accepted Jesus late in life and had lost all the ‘time’ that the others had had in order to grow spiritually.

  The thought of others knowing more than she did nagged on her. She decided to study…..to find head knowledge…..to be able to “fit in” or “stand out” with her church family.

   Jesus’ brothers accused Him of this same thing, of wanting to STAND OUT without being REAL…..”You want attention, Jesus? Then get out and show Yourself to the crowds that are here for the festival. Do all Your miracles in front of them, and make a SHOW, and You will be well known.”

   But Jesus refused…and why? The reason was in His answer. He said,” The TIME for Me has not yet come.” (John 7:2-5)

    Jesus waited for His Father to tell Him the RIGHT TIME to SHOW HIMSELF.

   When something comes from God, it is true…IT IS REAL! Jesus knew this, and waited for truth.

  If Gloria would have waited for God’s direction…His timing… it would have been real in her, too.

  But Gloria continued her seeking man's way and not God's way.

  The more she studied the more facts she learned. She grew in head knowledge without spiritual knowledge. Sure, she impressed her friends at church with her facts, but the spiritual knowledge was missing. Where was God in all this? She hadn’t sought God’s Spirit…the teacher of spiritual wisdom, knowledge, understanding and truth.    

   Her flesh was trying to control. Her pride was trying to take over. She truly wanted to stand out among her brothers and sisters in Christ. She had decided that this was the way to do it. She PUT ON the ‘Jesus-mask’ without the Jesus CHARACTER. And the fakeness couldn’t be hidden. The truth of GRACE through the Holy Spirit was missing.

  

  We all know someone who is like Gloria…someone who says the right words and maybe, even does the right things….but somehow we can tell it’s fake. The Holy Spirit isn’t revealing the truth through that person. And so, their words and actions seem fake.

   These are the people who have desecrated the name of Jesus. They “put on the mask” but underneath that mask they have painted faces with no spiritual life. No truth. Just a mask, self-painted to look like a Christian. Could this be the warning we see in the Bible of false prophets? Those who LOOK real……

 Mat 7:15 "Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves.

   So, where did Gloria go wrong?

   She sought the truth that others had, but sought it in HER own way…..not God’s way. She sought HEAD knowledge and not HEART knowledge; heart knowledge that can only come from the Spirit of God.

    When we receive salvation, God opens a way for the Spirit to move in us.

    It’s our job to make way for Him. It’s our job to seek God’s truth, by surrendering to Him. To allow God to heal us and make us EXACTLY what He created us to be.  PERFECT and UNMASKED!

    In reality, the perfection inside us is JESUS….but we must allow the Holy Spirit to bring out Jesus’ character, not our own.

   I pray that someday Gloria will give her mask to God. I pray that God’s very own Spirit will reveal that the work is done…and now she can rest in the completed cross. I pray that her life, under the ‘Jesus-mask’ would be Spirit-breathed. I pray that she would find TRUTH.

  

Luke 8:17 "Whatever is hidden away will be brought out into the open, and whatever is covered up will be found and brought to light.”        

God's Reward of My Russian Lady

  

“GOD’S REWARD OF MY RUSSIAN LADY”

(a day of volunteering at a food bank)

   Shoulders touching and hands reaching. Many stood in line waiting or moved along to the next choice of food. Amid the hub-bub of hungry, searching people, I saw her approach our table to make her bread choice. She was just one among the many needing help in hard times.

   Her Russian heritage was evident in the build of her body. Not overweight, she had a strong body structure, revealing that she came from a lineage of large-boned people.

   Her long hair, half swept up into a bun, swayed with her words, as if it helped her speak. Dark brown, it matched her eyes and again revealed the Russian heritage.

   Self confidence carried her to her full stature of 5 feet 10 inches. A woman that knew what she wanted and where she was going, she emitted satisfied peace.

   Neatly dressed and always clean, a pride in being in America and among freedom was revealed through her stylish American clothing.

   Her eyes and face always seem to glow with a secreted happiness deep within. She can not hide her inner beauty that is combined with her outer appearance. She’s beautiful through and through.

   She smiled as she approached me, with that “I’m so glad to see you”, smile of hers.

   I had been thinking about her on my way to the food bank and told her so before we greeted each other with Russian kisses on lips and cheeks. I knew this greeting looked odd to others, but I also knew it gave her comfort, knowing that just one American could emit love as her home town people did.

   We smiled at each other and said the usual ‘how are you, how was your week?’ She once again told me how she looks forward to seeing me.

   Always optimistic and proud of her freedom, she has told me of the oppression she suffered in Russia for being a Believer in Jesus. Shunned and ostersized by her own country, she loved the freedom that Believers have in this country. Her old country treated her with predgidism and limited her in many ways.

  Loving to hear her speak English, I ask her questions in order to hear her accent. She speaks English very well and yet broken. The English slang she has acquired sounds much more interesting when she speaks it.

  A short greeting, a ‘how are you’, a choice of bread and then our goodbyes. That is all there is to our relationship. But how she has impacted my life is so much more than the time we have spent together over the bread table. She reveals our taken-for-granted-freedom in her everyday life. She reveals the self-confidence of a woman who has been freed from oppression. She reveals the joy of a woman freed by the salvation of her Hero, Jesus. And she shows the love of the Hero who lives within her.

   I don’t know her name, but I know her love. I don’t know where she lives, but I know we are sisters. I don’t know if she is married, but I know who her Husband will be.

   The main thing I know about her is that we love each other. She gives me joy and receives mine. And we dwell in the same kingdom among the free…The Kingdom of God in the Land of the Free and Home of the Brave. She experiences both these homes.

   This is my friend, the Russian Lady. I share her with you so that you will know just one of the special people I have met and loved through working at the food bank.

   You may think that we help the hungry more than they help us. Oh, but you are so wrong. The love we receive from these people help us to know that God is everywhere and in each and every person. These people are the evidence of God’s love. Their love to me gives me hope and the motivation to keep on going, keep on living, keep on loving.

   One day, I hope to somehow give back to them what they have given to me. I don’t know how or what or when, but I do know that God will reward them even if I can’t.

   So, I pray, God bless these people. Reward them for rewarding me, Your daughter. Reward them for loving through broken pride. Reward them for giving when they came to take. Reward them for thinking of others when they thought they had come for themselves. And thank You for rewarding me with them. Thank You, Lord…and Bless these wonderful people. Amen.

Nancy Bauer (10-31-2009)