Life's Biggest Mistake |
I think life gives us lots of lemons and so I've decided to make a business out of lemon pies! I love music, it gives me something to hope in. I love the fall because it reminds me of life's unending cycle. I'm Brianna and this is my blog! |
What do I do with the knowledge and understanding
that I would rather dance with your ghost
than waltz with the flesh and bone and blood
and beating heart of anyone else? With the fact
that I would rather lie here alone and reach out
to cradle the empty indention of where you once rested
that feel…
“Worrying is like a rocking chair, it gives you something to do, but doesn’t get you anywhere.”
(Source: justifythemargins)
“Mrs Elderly And The Drip Drip Drool”
As the old lady sitting next to me began to drool, and a light but sturdy snore danced from her mouth and over and into my ears, I gently placed my headphones in and turned the volume on “BLAST”. Shaking my head as I looked at her with disgust, she did the unthinkable. She let loose a fowl, wet one, that by its very nature, singed the hairs in my nose, and left a lingering stench that permeated the entire right side of the plane. I pressed my nose against the window, hoping to catch just a whiff fresh air, some sort of relief.There was none! I looked at her again, top lip turned up and angry that this would be my reality for the next 4 hours to Corpus Christie Texas. Why me God? Why me? Why not the executive to the left and a few rows up? He looks like a “Dou@#bag” I reasoned.
About an hour later, after a few pitiful tears and childish whines on my part, she abruptly woke up from her sleep, wiped the slobber from her mouth with the back of her hand and I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. “Hello young Man” she said, in a lovely and elegant voice. “Beautiful day outside wouldn’t you say?”. I pointed to my headphones, raised my shoulders and mouthed the words “I can’t hear you”. Rude of me I know! (Shakes my head in shame). She looked at me with loving eyes, gently lifting her hand and taking the earphones out of my ears said. “That’s better now isn’t it?”
We introduced ourselves and after a while, she began telling me the story of her late husband David Daniels. “David was a fox” she said, as if the very thought of him made music to her soul. “He had deep dark eyes that I would sometimes get lost in. His hair was full and black and his voice was like hearing the opera for the first time: shocking, but beautiful! “Young man, David was fiiiiiiine” “ummmph yes he was”. David was a Multi-Millionaire and entrepreneur. “During those years, in the early part of the 20th century, David was part owner of a major airliner, spearheaded his own publishing company and was a major investor in Ford Automotive.” “I came from humble means” she said “But it wasn’t his money that drew me.” It was his charm and his heart for God.
“You see young man, David taught me a lot about God in those years.” When he proposed to me, he said something that I will never forget. He said “Sweetheart, I want to give you my world.” She then explained “Because David was who he was, he had access to things that most people didn’t. He could get into restaurants, stores and even rub shoulders with the most important people in the world.” He wanted me to take part in his life and to enjoy his world. Isn’t that how God is she exclaimed?” When God proposed to us he invited us to take part in his world. To have access to what he has access to. God gives us what we’ve never experienced before. He gives us a new way of seeing things and the keys to whatever beauty or treasure that he has. “That’s the God that I’ve come to know and love over the years”
And so thinking about her story, I’m not caught up or concerned with her Fowl and extremely Wet one, neither am I stuck on the image of her drooling. Though all of that is a bit humorous in retrospect, I came away with the lesson that God wants to give us his world.
I want His world. NO, better yet I want His Universe.
Sincerely with humor and reflection,
~The Resilient
Falling in Love
I fell in love for the first time when I was 18. Whenever she would look at me I felt as though the world had stopped. To say the least, I was head over heels for her. I can remember our first date, spending the evening at the beach and watching the sun paint the sky a deep dark purple; a beautiful evening indeed. We were young and in love and the world had never looked brighter.
Two years later we were at each others throats. The deep seeded, unresolved issues from both of our childhoods made us resent each other, because in some philosophical-mystic way, we saw the other person becoming what we feared most about ourselves. What she needed from me was a strong and confident man who showed compassion when needed. But she also needed me to show my strength spiritually. The sad thing here is that I was unable to give this to her because I never received it from my own father. What I needed from her was respect and trust, which she couldn’t give to me because she had been disrespected and used by so many men in her past. So here we both were, angry and bitter toward one another because deep down inside, we knew that we were inadequate to meet each others needs.My love for her was genuine but ultimately skewed. I once read a story in which a father describes wanting to show his 4 year old son (who spent those years in the bustling LA city) to his farm roots! This father grew up on a farm in the Midwest and moved to Los Angeles in his early 20’s to pursue a career in the big city. Wanting to get back in touch with his roots and show his little boy the legacy into which he was born, he took his son to the old farm. Seeing the old farm brought back so many memories for this father. Finally, wanting to show off a little to his son, he decided to milk a cow. He firmly squeezed until half a cup of milk trickled into a bottle. Smiling and somewhat exuberant he handed the bottle to his son. The little 4 year old lad, innocent and unpretentious, turned away in disgust and shouted..ewww… milk doesn’t come from Cows, it comes from the store…
Thinking about this story and the boy’s assertion, I realized that we sometimes treat love like this. We believe the fatal flaw that we are the producers of love and that we are the source of that love. What I needed in my relationship with her was unconditional love and so I sought that from her thinking that she would be able to give me all that I was lacking!But when we live as if others are the source of love we are eventually let down and disappointed. I had to understand that we can only give what we ourselves have been given from the source. She couldn’t give me what I needed because she hadn’t received it herself.
And so my relationship failed and we were both left with broken hearts…. This is when I learned to draw love from God. He filled the emptiness to fulness and as King David once wrote “My cup overflows”.
Sincerely,
With Love and Compassion,
~The Resilient
Lily and the Ballet Teacher
I looked and saw that I had 3 missed calls from Mrs. Payntr. The only problem was that no matter what I did, i could not get a signal. Everyone in this small little town knows if you cannot get a signal then you have to make the much dreaded trek down to the Saint Joe River. Mrs. Payntr had called 3 times so I knew that it was important. I strapped on my snow boots and made the fifteen minute hike through he woods and down to the bank of the river. On the way I saw a mother fox feeding her pups and I was instantly bombarded with images of my own mother cooking pancakes, turkey bacon and scrambled eggs. I appreciated her at that moment like no other moment before.
I pulled out my phone and held up and into the air. Having a full signal I called Mrs. Payntr and sounding relieved she asked if I could do her a favor and pick up Lily from her Ballet class. Now, Lily is an adorable bright eyed little darling of a girl that I’ve been tutoring for close to a year. The snow storm is pretty bad and I won’t be able to drive across town and pick her up. She said….
So I rushed off to pick up Lily…. When i arrived they were just finishing up the
À la seconde….
Seeing Lily dance for those few moments made me think of those moments when I could clearly see that the world wasn’t as big as I’d thought. Moments that rendered me speechless. I stood against the far back wall and Lily’s Ballet teacher smiled and quickly approached. As she got closer we all heard a crashing sound in the background. This Ballet school sits at the bottom of a large hill that’s almost always covered in snow. We looked out of the window and saw two trees tumbling down the hill toward the Ballet school. Behind the tumbling trees…an avalanche of snow.
The trees slammed against the front of the building blocking the only entrance. The snow behind the trees made sure that we had no chance of escaping by ourselves. Realizing that we would most likely me stranded there for a few hours and not wanting any of the girls and Daniel (the one boy who joined the class) to panic we quickly gathered them together in the lounge area. With lots of comfortable couches and blankets we all gathered around the fire and told them story after story until they all fell asleep: some on the black sofa, some on the massive Persian carpet, and some on my lap and the Ballet teacher’s shoulder.
When I looked at the teacher I could see that she was extremely stressed. So I sparked up a conversation with her to try and get her mind on something pleasant. I asked her about her family and where she grew up. We talked for close to an hour about everything you could imagine….but what struck me was the moment she began speaking about her faith in God. Years before she had become an atheist because of something that happened to her mother. She explained to me how beautiful her mother was. She would spend much of her days, especially her older years providing clothes and food for kids who had little or nothing. Then one day the dreaded call came….she had lung cancer……and she never smoked a day in her life. She watched her mom pray and pray and pray for healing and never come. The teacher also decided to pray. She went to church every week, read all the bible verses and believed in God’s ability to heal.
Her mother passed away 6 weeks later. She was angry with God for a number of reasons. How could God only allow her to live for six weeks after she had been diagnosed? That seemed like no time at all to say goodbye. so she came to the conclusion that prayer doesn’t work because there is no God.
Seeing the tears in her eyes I reached out for her hand and pulled her close. We hugged for a few minutes and then I told her that God loved her. She smiled, but I could tell that it was forced. I want you to do me a favor I said. Sure she replied. I know you haven’t done this in a long time but I want you to pray and ask God anything you want and then I promise you he will give you an answer. She looked into my eyes and sighed. Ok I’ll try it. She closed her eyes and a few seconds later opened them again. She grabbed my Bible and opened to a random page. she stared at the words and fell to her knees in tears. I could tell that these tears were tears of relief.
Psalm 56:8 is what she read……
You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book. {New Living Translation}
That evening her faith in God was restored. She still had lot’s of questions and deep seed wounds but she knew that she was indeed loved.
Sometimes God arranges snow storms and lock-ins in-order to show his love.
Sincerely with love and compassion,
~The resilient
If Jesus Christ were to come today people would not even crucify him. They would ask him to dinner, and hear what he has to say, and make fun of it.
~The Resilient
Inas
The letter sat on my desk for a little more than two years before I opened it. Stained with Black coffee and Pumpkin pie, I could almost no longer make out the name in the upper left hand corner. Seeing that the purple ink had begun to leak and smudge across the white surface, I began to weep. I cried because the purple ink meant that she had gone on to be with royalty: the ancestors of her people.
Her letters always seemed to rummage and scour through all the pretense and dirt that resided inside. She wrote eloquently of ancient African poets who’s poems gave her a reason to live. She wrote of the kings and Queens of her ancestry who lived amongst the people, and taught them that the responsibility of royalty meant service.
“Simeon” she wrote…”I’m HIV positive and I have been since I was 4 years old.” The words on the page seemed to unravel me. I’m telling you not so that you can feel sorry for me, but so that one day you can tell my story. It’s a story of unlikely hope and unmerited favor. A story that depicts a young girls unmovable faith in God.
Two years later an envelope still lay face up on my bedroom desk. Somehow, I knew that Inas had passed on….. and that this was her last letter written to a friend half a world away.
I opened the letter and an amazing aroma filled the room…. and somehow it managed to linger in the air for quite some time. It smelled of a desert rose and I imagined that desert rose standing alone in the heat of the sun saving it’s aroma for the one who would find it and cherish it.
The letter contained these simple words.
“Dear Simeon,
By the time you gt this I will be long gone, but I want you to know that God loves you….and that he cannot bare to live the rest of his life without you. and then she quoted Joshua 1:9 which says
“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.”
The powerful thing about this letter and this story is that a few years before she wasn’t a Christian. The letters that were sent helped introduce her to the Savior of the World. The I\irony is that my letters introduced her to God but her letter regenerated my faith.
I hope to see you when the sky rolls back like a scroll and the Savior of the world who entered as a baby comes to take us home!
Sincerely,
With Love and Compassion,
~The Resilient
Mr. Presto, a 96 year old man, whispered into the phone and asked me if I could answer two very important questions for him. “I’ll try my best” I replied, staring out the window as snow fell on the needles of the pine tree. “How do I become a Christian?” he said in a timid yet firm voice.
It had always been moments like these that made me unpretentious; moments that reminded me of how simple life is: moments that taught me that we all share common hopes and fears.
I calmly and confidently shared with him the beauty of the Gospel. Ask God to come into your heart, dine with you and make your heart his home. And so as we prayed that simple prayer he took a deep breath and then began to cry. Through muttered whisperings I heard him say The answer to my second question has just been answered, because I just felt the warmth of God’s love. Even as a 96 year old man it’s not too late for me.
And it’s not too late for any of us. Not for the Elderly man, the welfare mom, the CEO father of 3, or the girl who does the occasional drugs.
HE hasn’t given up on us yet……And he never will
Sincerely with love and compassion,
~The Resilient
Dreams Deferred
Autumn’s got me thinking……
Thinking of earlier times and memories that I thought I needed to feel ashamed of. Moments of moral weakness and memories that sparked in me new dreams and new hopes.
Autumn’s also got me thinking of my friend Lena. A beautiful girl with a condition that made all her hair turn a silvery white tint. We both grew up in a neighborhood that ran rampant with drug-dealers and pimps, had raucous laughter and sometimes bawdy humor. I admired Lena because, to me, amidst all the poverty and crime and ignorance, her dreams of what she could do and where she could go and what she could become remained vivid. But that was years ago. Maybe to us kids, dreams seemed bigger and more attainable: and maybe we were too young to realize that we weren’t invincible.
You can imagine my heart breaking when I saw her a few months ago depressed and standing on Pennsylvania ave selling her body for money and struggling for her next fix. Her hair still long and gray, her eyes still big and brown and her smile still soft. I picked her up and we drove for a few minutes before I said anything. She didn’t recognize me because it had been 7 years since we’d seen each other last.
She sighed and calmly asked me what I wanted. I looked into her eyes and I could tell that she finally recognized me as tears began to run down the sides of her face. I held her hand, told her I loved her and as we embraced I could feel that she was frail and thin.
We drove for a few hours and talked about old times. The days when all that mattered were cartoons and gummy bears. She told me that her surroundings had gotten the best of her and that what once made her dream bigger eventually made her lose hope.
In a quiet winsome way I shared with her the hope of this man called Jesus. I shared the freedom and liberation, strength and immeasurable love that sparked an undying fire inside. I shared how in my life the darkness became light, the coldness warmth and the disappointment and shame success and honor. I took her to my Grandpa’s house and let her spend the night.
Lying in bed that evening I thought about how our surroundings and experiences can sometimes discourage our dreams. I thought about how easy it is to lose hope and how hard it is to regain it.
I woke up early the next morning and cooked scrambled eggs and waffles, turkey-bacon and every imaginable fruit. Lena came down stairs and sat down at the table. The first thing she said to me wasn’t good morning or that smells good, it was “Please tell me more about Jesus”……. So as we ate, I told her about how much God loved her. I told her about The Cross and about how God cannot bare to live without her. She said that she wanted to experience a love like that and so we held hands, got down on our knees and prayed that God would come into her life. I believe he did and I believe that only he can change her life. And he will! Never lose hope for anyone, even when they’ve lost hope in themselves.
1 John 3:3
How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears,[a]we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. Everyone who has this hope in him purifies himself, just as he is pure.Sincerely with love and compassion,
~The Resilient
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I will weave my dreams with you,
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Falling in Love
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Lily and the Ballet Teacher
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