Five Minute Friday: Identity

Today I'm joining my friend The Gypsy Mama for five minutes where I'll write without editing, backtracking, or second guessing.  Because in the writing? We work to find and see with the heart and not the mind.


Ready, Set, Go.....IDENTITY


I watch you, standing there in the midst of girls women-children that you consider your peers. Their ages eclipse yours, most by half a decade. These are your friends. Their height and weight make you appear waif-like, but you keep up with them all the same. Some even come to learn from you; you teach willingly and with a ready heart. Acceptance is what you seek in this place of yours that you've fought to create for yourself. Your passion lies here, in the leaping and twirling and rhythm of eight counts. 




Here you feel at home


I whisper to you as you sleep and repeat again and again while you are in the waking moments that this is not who you are...it's what you are gifted at. Yes, you use your body and spirit to create beauty in motion, but you? Well, you are our daughter; one created by the King to do and be and dream. I remind you that your identity lies in Him.


I hope you hear me. 


Growing up is a series of steps and leaps, much like your dancing. Learning choreography that is in tune with the world while using your artistic flair to sparkle. YOU are beautiful, just as you were created. Please, in this place we live in, don't lose sight of the lovely that is imprinted within you. 




Your identity is unique, set-apart, as rare as the numbered stars in the heavens. Make it yours. Don't rely on others to create it for you. 


Be you. 




From the inside out.


STOP

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Loving Well

It's as much a part of me as breathing, this friendship she and I have woven together.  In and out, up and down, encircling us. Never ceasing. Never slowing. None of the breaks, skips, or hiccups that usually occur in relationships. Not a one. We came together so seamlessly I don't  remember what my life, my days, my moments felt like without her beside me, even in a figurative sense. I know it sounds odd, the stuff of science fiction movies and creepy music, but our relationship has been like that from the beginning. I wake up when something happens to her or when she dreams and cannot bring herself out of it. She knows when I've hit my bottom and swoops in to scoop me up.   Even our night times overlap. That silly red sports car she drives in the non-waking hours? It shows up for both of us. I tell her geniuses choose green and she laughs. I am thankful to hear it so strong, so clear. Her laughter is the mix of all things beautiful; soft undertones of leaves
Read more

Tuesday's Child is Full of Grace

Eleven years ago you entered our world. Small. Red. Making your voice heard. Three separate due dates: March 4 th (actual), January 28 th (for my health), February 6 th (for yours). On Tuesday, February 8, 2000, you decided you’d join us. At your own pace, in your own time; forty two hours of labor, most of it without great progression. Then from 4 to 10 in a hour and six pushes later, you arrived. I had not allowed myself to fall in love with you. The doctors told me that I carried antibodies that could cause your death if the pregnancy made it to 36 weeks. If . That was the word throughout the weeks you grew and developed. If you made it, if I made it, if my kidneys held out. They told me I wouldn’t get pregnant. I did. At week six they suggested I terminate when bloodwork came back showing more strikes against both of us. I refused. They were wrong. I decided, then and there, that they were wrong. That we’d make it. Together . Those days were not e
Read more

The Power of Words

Before Sara died, she asked me to speak at her wake. She didn't desire that I share with others memories  of  her. Rather, she asked that I speak about who she was in this world. She told me that she wanted people who came  to see her  as I spoke.  She also told me I wasn't allowed to cry. It would, she stated, "Make things less effective."  Love her.   A friend who was present asked that I  ( Shannon )  put it up for all of you, who were unable to join us at the service, to read. .  .  .  .  .  .  . Gail Caldwell wrote:  "It's an old, old story. I had a friend and we shared everything, and then she died and so we shared that too."   Words are powerful. Uniting. They shape our view of the world, ourselves, each other. Words, in the best cases, make us immortal. Words are how I found her. Faith is what brought us together. A friend send me an email, asking me to pray for a mother who knew she was going to lose her baby girl and carried he
Read more