His Someone

She didn’t have much. What she did have she was probably shameful of. She was nothing. Nothing. To herself, to others. My opinion is that she had probably been told all of her life she wasn’t good enough, so she bought into the lie and lived her adult life that way. Like she was nothing. Worthless.
Now, here she stood. Probably wrapped in some small piece of fabric. Trying to cover herself as they drug her out into the middle of the square. This nothing. This unimportant nothing of a soul, was suddenly the most important thing in their life. She was now their target. They were going to rid the world of her “evil”, of her worthlessness. I wonder if they even let her halfway cover herself. I imagine her looking like a scared animal. Her eyes wide with fear….probably the first real emotion she had felt in years.
I imagine her cowering, maybe even trembling, because she knew what was coming. I wonder if she thought “Wow. All this for me. Me. I’m NOTHING. But suddenly, I’m everything.” Everything wrong. Everything unholy.
These men, rocks in their hands, were making a show out of a “nothing soul”. Not the man they caught her with. But of her. She was the evil. I imagine them as being loud. Screaming and yelling. Spitting on her and lunging at her. Maybe even laughing as she crouched in fear.
She was brought to the temple to be used as a trap. In layman’s terms I can hear the Pharisees saying “ Ahhhhh…. the law of Moses says……what do YOU say?”
BUT….. Yes, but. JESUS steps up by bending down.
He bends down, writes in the sand and waits.
It wasn’t immediate….it wasn’t righteous…..it wasn’t loud….
The reaction to the writing was thuds and footsteps.
Each accuser reading truth written in nothing more than dirt.
Jesus – God in flesh – walks to her. Talks to her. In one small moment, gives her worth. “Where are your accusers? Has anyone condemned you?” I imagine she glanced down at her toes before raising her eyes to meet his
guilt and shame will always make you self conscious –
and then she answered him “No one sir.”
I wonder if he spoke gently. If he looked into her eyes to confirm what he was saying. Any way it happened he declared “Then neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin. “
She was someone’s daughter. No matter her choices, no matter her position, no matter her sin ……. she was someone’s. How often we want to pick up stones, label someone due to their sin, condemn someone due to their past, and kill their spirit with our self proclaimed righteous judgment.
BUT GOD.
He speaks – or writes in dirt, or simply drenches one in grace and mercy – and speaks
THIS ONE IS MINE. THEY ARE MY SOMEONE.

This is Me – Jenni D.

The sky was on fire tonight and the warm breeze reminded me of the beach. There were clouds that were dark yet strikingly gorgeous as the setting sun cast a glow around them. There was a woman in the grocery store that was wearing a perfume that a former coworker wore. Why does that throw me into a swarm?

Why I am so keenly aware of every scent, every color, every sound, every feeling that I come in contact with? My mind whirls in a constant state of cognizance. It is never a simple task, my daily living. Each sense registers a deposit on my memory bank. It is hypervigilance in overdrive. There is never a still, quiet, unaromatic moment. At times, I feel like a prisoner at a county fair, unable to escape the persistent overbearing environment.

Even in loneliness I swim the waters of overdrive. My mind pushes itself unwillingly into an ocean of words, thoughts, what if’s, what should have, what may be…..Conversations I should have, but haven’t – things I need to do, should do, want to do – why am I like this? – why can’t I be normal? – WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!?

It never ends.

When peace surrounds my being, my soul rests – but not my thoughts. They tramp through the serenity like soldiers on a mission. The spears of fear and insecurity slice through the blank pristine space of peace, leaving open wounds that are too numerous for me to cover quickly. Words, words, words ….. memories, sights, sounds, odors……why didn’t I, who didn’t I, what didn’t I …… Tranquillity wanes and the tornado picks me up – once again.

Explain what you are feeling, they say. What is on your mind, they ask. How can we help you, they pry.

You can’t. I can’t. God will ….. eventually.

Or maybe he won’t.

“He made me this way!”, I scream to myself; convincing the dead to live takes power. Power my loud voice – my over dramatic voice – my commanding voice – has not the depths of. “He knit me together! My name is written on His palm! I am an heir to the throne!” Every scripture, every perfect Christian proclamation, every thing my momma and daddy ever spoke over me – can’t muscle through the swamp of timidity.

I cry out “God! Where are you?” Once again, I’m keenly aware of the silence and the way it sounds……

It’s not a voice I hear, it’s not a aroma, it’s not a sweetness on my tongue that pulls me out – or back in ….. it is simply a feeling. Warmth that is intrinsic to my soul. It starts in my feet, and soon my face is flushed. I know you, Holy Spirit. I know you.

I once said the Holy Spirit dances over me, around me, with me. Now, it simply sustains me. It is my constant. Unwavering, as I spin in my own self inflicted – in my own matrix. The Holy Spirit simply is.

There is no peace in my mind. There is no complete and total relaxation. Which means, there will not be stagnancy.

Yes, I talk a lot. Yes, I have a story about anything and everything you could throw at me. Yes, I see shadows, and shapes in the clouds, and the colors of the woods, and the insane way that river water makes even the ugliest pebbles beautiful…….. Yes. That is simply who I am. One day, I will be confident enough to say “love me or leave me. I am who I am because He is the great I AM”, and I will stand unwavering in that proclamation. Until then, this is me. Jenni D.