Just Me

By Heather Allen –

During an hour layover in the Dallas airport, I entertained myself by watching fellow passengers.  This particular morning, I started comparing myself to what I saw. I dragged my luggage to the closest restroom. It might have been a two-mile walk and my bags felt like they contained my entire wardrobe. My already limp hair was now sleek from perspiration. Leaning toward the mirror, I frowned at the bags under my eyes and my uneven complexion. I backed up and took in the whole view. I pulled cosmetics out of my bag and went to work. And then despite my self-recrimination, one voice and thought stilled the rest. “Remember whose you are.”  I dropped my brush, everything stopped. Squinting, I looked back at the mirror. My throat felt tight, the perfumed smell of makeup irritated my nose. My gaze held, my mind grappling with the freedom of being accepted.

There are days when I am pretty sure I have no friends. But this is, of course, a lie. I am blessed to have women who love me enough to walk these dusty earth roads as my companions. Lonely days are beautiful in their own melancholy way. Drizzly heart rain often drives me to the shelter of His strong arms. And I stay there as His words pour like aloe on my sores. His kind of love soothes me. I wish I could see through His eyes every morning instead of my own. If I could whistle, my heart would script a new tune each morning as I delight in delighting Him.

When I was small I found it easy to believe I was a King’s daughter. I am not sure what changed. Maybe I listened to other voices and over time the King’s voice grew faint. But there in the Dallas Fort Worth Airport, I heard Him loudly enough to know I am His. I believe He wants me to remember because He loves me and would never have me believe I am less. But His purpose is probably much larger than I can yet see. I suppose a privilege of being daughter to the Creator is seeing Him recreate my mind. In this redemption, I find joyous surprise, learning He is the one who best defines beauty. If I grow more beautiful in time it will not be due to some cosmetic enhancer, it will be because my heart is more like His.

Heather Allen spends most of her time caring for her hubby and three kids.  Check out her blog: http://www.thebloodknot.blogspot.com/

The Mentor

By Heather Allen –

If you have been part of a church for more than a millisecond, you’ve realized there’s an in crowd. At times I have been in, with all the right lingo pouring out, right smack in the A list. At times I have been out, splitting my time between figuring out how to get in and convincing myself why I don’t really want to be there.

I met a woman I considered a mentor. Of course, she had no idea who I was. But I tried to move into her life anyway. The problem was other people wanted to move in too, and before I knew it the only spot left was the basement closet…not exactly the hotspot. Not a place the owner visits much, just here and there when looking for holiday decorations or an old pair of boots to lend out. On those rare occasions when she would visit me, I sat on the edge of my seat hoping she would see something worthwhile in me, hoping she would invite me to the living room. She is something and if she likes me, maybe I’m something too. Perhaps the only thing worse than never meeting someone you greatly admire, is meeting, and realizing they could care less. I decided if she could just see the real me, things would be different. She would care.  I did everything I could to show her I was worth her time. I vacillated between feeling like a circus performer trying to juggle every new act just to get her attention, and a sell-out. Of course she was always polite, but when I heard her say she was deeply lonely, I was astonished.

The question I wanted to dismiss, stared at me. Like a child, repeatedly told to go to bed, it stalled, waiting. I rolled on my side, turning my face away. I began reading Galatians.  But I confess, I found it hard to move past chapter one. There, in black and white was the mirror I could not shield my eyes from.

“Am I now trying to win the approval of men, or of God? Or am I trying to please men?  If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a servant of Christ” (Galatians 1:10, NIV).

The Creator, the one who organized every living being, blowing breath on dust, didn’t just invite me over for an afternoon of conversation & coffee.  He asked if He could move right into me. How could I look past His deep, steady love? Why fill the chasm with approval that can be bought?

Trust His love. May it be the rain that cascades over, coursing through veins, bringing life.

Heather Allen spends most of her time carrying for her hubby and 3 kids.  Check out her blog: http://www.thebloodknot.blogspot.com/

« Previous Page