The Poppy and The Pod

I wrote the following in the wee hours of this morning, before all the pain and exhaustion from such a busy weekend caught up to me. Before the natural high wore off, allowing all that pain to return, as I emotionally let down my guard.

Please read it as a prayer and a dedication I am making into my new life. I have been struggling with where God wants me, what He wants me to do with my life. Through months or searching and prayer, I may be getting close to His dream for me. And as you know, His dreams for us don’t always line up with our own. His dreams eclipse ours, outshine ours unlike nothing we could ever have imagined.

Thank you for being my readers. May God bless you as He has blessed me.

Love, Jenni Lynn

 

THE POPPY AND THE POD

October 15, 2012

Yesterday I found myself back within my element. Talking with even more likeminded people. Listening. Learning. Absorbing. Stretching. Growing.

I found myself back at Wordstock. The Oregon Convention Center. On the escalators, beneath the giant poppies. I stopped to study these gigantic glass ornaments. They catch the backlight and come aglow. My eyes shift toward the top of the escalator. A large alien-looking green pod sits alone. Closed to the outside world. Heavy and dull. Frightening in its obscurity.

Within this space, this element of mine, I stretch my bubble. I poke it in all directions. I open my eyes to all the possibilities. The learning. The conversations. And then I act. Like a real person. A real woman. A real writer. A real illustrator. A person of good, strong character. I act and feel how I have always believed normal people act and feel every day.

Within this space, this element of mine, I am the poppy, unfurling my colors before the sun. I am no longer the pod, so full of potential but ever frozen in time.

I have no excuses for my past. I will no longer rely on qualifying statements about my efforts.

 

This is me. Living within my joy.

Head held high. Smile broad and bright.

Eagerness pouring from my every cell.

And love.

Compassion.

Courage.

 

This is me. Having the courage to step out in faith.

Trusting God has my back.

My front.

My every footfall.

 

This is me. Meeting the real me.

Enjoying the discovery process.

Seeking only His opinion of me.

Desiring to live up to His vision of me.

 

This is me. Living in love.

Loving God. Loving myself. Finally loving myself.

Trusting His love won’t abandon me.

His truths won’t fade away or change.

 

This is me. Living in trust.

Humbled to be chosen.

Accepting forgiveness when I fail.

Relaxing into the ocean of His truth.

Closing my eyes and allowing His miracles to wash over me.

 

This is me, Lord.

The me you made me to be.

 

Coffee in one hand, cheese-covered guilt in the other. Candy wrappers stuffed hastily in my pocket. You know this about me, and yet you still love me. You still have compassion and not pity for me. You still want glorious things of me and for me. Nothing I do can make you stop loving me. No matter how much I act out or feel like a failure. Nothing.

Like the flood rushing down from the mountains with the spring rains, no dam can hold back or cut off your love. It will wash over me. Drown me in peace and grace. Fill my lungs with righteousness. Only you can love me like this.

Nothing. And only you. Unconditional love at its finest. It is you or nothingness. And no matter how difficult it has been to grasp your depth of love, I cannot begin to fathom nothingness. I pray I never have to.

Teach me, Lord. Teach me speak. Teach me your ways. Put the correct words in my mouth and lead me to the correct actions. Make me aware of you, always. Do not count me among the Israelites who asked never to see your face or hear your voice ever again. Teach me speak, as only you can. I long to hear your voice, feel your presence. Your nearness.

Let me rise and do great things in your name, but keep me humble so that I may stay in your presence and not let conceit destroy me.

There is a brisk clip to my gait as I carry out these joys. These promises you’ve given me. I no longer feel like a fake. No longer on the fringe of life and love. No longer self-marginalized. You’ve instilled confidence in my heart.

I turn my flush petals to your brightness, seeking and accepting your warmth and love. Thank you. Thank you seems inadequate. I love you. Even my love seems inadequate compared to yours.

I am yours. I am your poppy.

No longer the pod.

 

My life comes aglow only with your illumination.

I live to carry out your desires.

I live to ring your quiet bell of grace.

 

I long to hear the trumpets that signal all hope.

Amen.

Love, Jenni Lynn

Living My Joy

One day, I shall sit in one of these red chairs, and I shall read aloud from my own published work.

Today I spent the day in my element, amongst likeminded people, talking words. Style. Prose. Genre. Today I attended Wordstock at the Oregon Convention Center. It was the first year I actually made it, having had a multitude of excuses over the past several years. Pain. Exhaustion. Depression. Anxiety. Fear. No one to go with.

Well, last night I was in severe pain, and I woke up in a great amount of pain, too. So we can scratch that excuse off the list. I made the conscious decision sometime during the night to not allow my pain to have that much power and authority in my day. It would be nice if I could keep that attitude for life, never wavering, but one day at a time is good, and at least for today the pain did not have me, even though I had pain.

I was determined to  go to Wordstock with or without pain. I did my best to sleep last night, and I ate a complete and balanced breakfast to keep my energy up. I would not let exhaustion control my day, either.

Emotionally, I have felt fairly well, other than my stress level being too high. No depression. Some normal sadness, but no major depression. This is a great thing. Anxiety seems to be creeping back into my life, but I am taking steps to deal. Being proactive and having a plan can make all the difference in the world when it comes to emotional stability. These, too, cannot be excuses. Absolutely cannot, as part of my proactive plan.

Even with my determination, my drive, sometimes I can be derailed, and all the positive talk and proactive efforts in the world cannot help me get out of bed on those mornings.

Talk about having to live in the moment. Taking one day at a time to the full extent of the meaning.

But now I am getting off on a painful tangent.

This morning I arrived at the Oregon Convention Center bright and early. I did not even let the timing of my first class (9 a.m.) deter me. I went alone, which was actually probably the best for me because I was able to get totally absorbed in every conversation and every class discussion, without worrying about where so-and-so was or if they were bored.

I had the most awesome day, and I was definitely in my element. What does being in my element look like?

• confident
• determined
• goal oriented
• willing to step outside my comfort zone
• stepping outside my comfort zone without even thinking about it
• constantly smiling
• patient with those around me
• extra loving and helpful, even to total strangers
• not concerned about what others might think
• willing and able to ask for what I need without anxiety or fear that they will say no
• joy fills my heart

It is an amazing gift that God has given me, this ability to live within my joy instead of constantly chasing it and always falling short.

Thank you, Lord, for this amazing day.