Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Lilies, Dresses, and a Fresh Cup of Coffee.
Many of you know I have an intense fascination with three things: Yellow lilies (my favorite flower), pretty dresses, and coffee. I'm not sure when these fascinations started, but I do remember they all held deeper meanings in my high school songs and poems.
I have wanted a pretty and flowy yellow dress (the kind that spins when I twirl) for quite some time now. I have wanted that dress so I could dance upon shamrocks in Ireland. I think this desire started sometime around 10 years old. There is a very large part of me that will always be a very little girl, and I' determined to never let that part of myself die because this part of my heart is so filled with imaginative dreams. This figurative yellow dress became a sign of happiness for me in my childhood days.
When I was younger, there were a few things that always took my bad day and turned it around. One of which was dancing in my living room to the newest Point of Grace album, another of which was playing outside imagining I was in a distant land with my future husband who was enamored with how beautiful I was. I would dream my husband and I were traveling and playing music to the masses, and I knew he always liked to dance with me in our living room while I was wearing the new dress he had bought for me. The yellow one that made me look like Belle from 'Beauty and the Beast.'
I don't know why the yellow lily has always been my favorite flower, but I can't remember a time when it wasn't. When I was 14 I took a trip to New York, and one of my favorite memories from the trip was walking through the park in springtime among the radiant cherry blossoms watching the salesmen hand out yellow lilies to the lovely ladies who strolled along. It was like a movie, really. All the colors were wonderful, but the yellow lilies added a certain brightness none other could. The lily is bright and echos of something beyond itself; it is not just a flower. It is an entity which brings a smile and a warmed heart to all who behold it. It is truly one of God's most beautiful creations.
I have come a long way since 10 years old, and I have experienced much in the nine years that have passed. I no longer play imagination games on the swings by my gazebo, nor do I venture into the park to see the lovely ladies gaze upon flowers. I spend less time trying to fulfill my "list" of 'before I die,' and focus on the rudimentary day to day. But last night spoke something different.
Last night I had a chance to experience my imagination again, but this time it was with my Jesus. My Love. There are very real and very deep hurts in my heart that sometimes feel like bottomless chasms (no doubt, a product of a fallen world. Stupid Eve just HAD to eat the fruit...) Those parts that have been damaged and shot cause the imagination to sometimes be a painful place to enter. What once was a haven of future dreams and outlandish hopes becomes a battlefield of disappointments, and the enemy has had his chance on the higher ground for far too long.
Hearts were not created to be broken, and love was not meant to be painful. Perfect love that the Father gives to us was created to heal and restore and bring feelings of insurmountable joy. When a heart is broken because of fallen circumstance and a broken world, a disconnect inevitably happens in the heart. Hopes and dreams have the tenancy to become calloused parts of the mind. This is tragic, because God created us with such an ability to dream in a reality beyond human expression and experience. It's the beauty of how creatively artistic He made each and every one of us.
Last night, I came face to face once again with the healing power and mercy of Jesus Christ... if you have never laid your chest on His heart and allowed yourself to be held by Him, you are missing out. The throne of Jesus (or in my perfect world, a couch in the middle of a green pasture) is encompassed in love. He is my protector, my deliverer, my friend, and most dear to me, the love of my life. He will never leave or forsake me. He is enamored with who I am, and He loves to dance with me. I don't know why His compassion always takes me off guard, but I love that it does. I love that I am never ceasing to feel amazed and in awe of how great He is to me. I've come to the epic realization that no matter how far I run, or how broken I am, He will never turn His eyes away from me. He will always pursue me with a passion beyond comprehension.
So I'm making a fresh pot of coffee (the drink I believe is Jesus' favorite), and I'm going to start fulfilling my 'before I die' list with My Love-my Savior. I know He has amazing plans for my life. Plans that never leave me alone or out to fend for myself. His perfect love casts out all traces of fear locked inside this brick-wall of a heart. His love is like a flash-flood of redemptive cleansing, washing away any pain I ever knew. Washing away abandonment and replacing it with a veil of His covering.
Jesus is the best coffee-mate a girl could ever dream of. Cheers, friends.
Posted by Rachel Storment at 8:19 PM