God Loves You & Deja Brew! Christmas 2011

From the outside looking in, it’s an artsy, community-centered coffee shop where you can get a great cup of coffee with a smile.  But if you’ve spent much time inside those doors you already know that it is so much more than that.  At first, I thought I was the only one who had come to need this place far more than I needed that caffeinated, mid-morning pick-me-up.  But I have come to learn that there are many who flock to this haven for far more reason than a great cup of Joe.  To be perfectly honest, this last year or so has been one of the most painful and challenging years of my life and I found myself withdrawing from underneath my supportive umbrella of friends and family, partly to spend some extra time alone with God and partly because it’s just what I do sometimes.  There were days when I felt like there was no place on this earth where I truly belonged – except here. 

The owners (Tom & Lisa Nichols) and amazing staff of Deja Brew Coffee House, as well as so many of the regular customers have become a treasured family to me and I have walked through those doors every day (yes, I go there on a daily basis – don’t judge, just come see for yourself why) feeling like the people behind the counter are genuinely happy to see me - not because I am handing them my debit card or putting a tip in the jar – but because I matter to them.  I have been treated like a family member from the very beginning.  They notice when I am not myself, no matter how good I think I am at hiding it and they are quick to offer an encouraging word or a comforting hug when I didn’t always have the courage to ask for it.  If there was ever a time when I would be in such need of that kind of a welcome on a daily basis, this year would be one of those times. 

I have shed many mournful and joyful tears inside those walls and prayed many a prayer with a variety of people – sometimes people I had just met.  I have laughed until I thought I might cry and cried until I laughed (and been laughed at as well).  We have exchanged “back in a day” stories and current battles that we only wish were behind us and walked away shaking our grateful heads over how it is possible that we are all still smiling and breathing today! 

As lovers of art and music, my family and I have enjoyed many a Saturday night mingling with some very talented and fun musicians and spectators at Open Mic Night.  It was here my daughters found the courage to sing in front of a crowd and received so much encouragement and support for doing so.  What a gift to a mother who deeply desires for her daughters to find and use their talents and to make no apologies for exercising the personal freedom required to share them with the world! 

Because of a foundation that Lisa & Tom started, we have had the honor of seeing a community rise up and rally around a remarkable young man and his equally remarkable family to raise funds that would help propel him to a position of command and triumph over a condition that has a grip on his physical body but is no match for his brave heart.  My daughters and I have been changed and inspired by this delightful young man’s courage and determination through an uphill battle that would discourage most.  But this is no ordinary boy and what he and his family have accomplished as a result of the support that was so freely given through this local coffee shop is nothing short of a miracle. 

This same community of exceptional people of all backgrounds and ages has supported me and a cause that means everything to me.  They have selflessly offered their time and skills to raise funds and awareness for how we can better serve and protect the youth of our community and help those who have already suffered unthinkable abuse and neglect.  As if that were not enough, my own daughters watched God exceed their expectations last Christmas through the support of Deja Brew when they welcomed us to use the coffee shop to display homemade gifts and chocolates that they worked hard on to raise funds to provide a well for a drought-stricken village in Kenya.  They originally set out to raise $200 for a water pump, but God was calling us to take him out of the box and to believe He is who He says He is, so we asked for a $2,600 well instead that would provide much more water and freedom for our neighbors in Africa.  He showed my daughters that He is a God who does exceedingly and abundantly beyond what we ask through Deja Brew and so many cherished friends and family who supported that effort.  By early spring, a check was on its way to World Vision for $3,900 because He is God and because God blesses us, His children, with more of the same – His children.   

He often shows up to comfort or pursue us with His fierce, crazy love through the people He puts on our path.  He knows I sometimes fall off the radar and withdraw from people, but even my pitiful coping strategies cannot stop His love from finding me.  So He used my latte-lust to lure me right back into His comforting, healing arms.  That is exactly what this coffee shop has been to me – every time I walk through that door, it is as if He is reminding me that I am loved, that He sees me and that He wants to bless me.  Every time my “Deja Brew family” greets me with a needed hug, includes me on some inside joke, shares their “Twinkie Rap” songs with me, invites me to a special event in their life, flaunts their soft hair for all to touch, blesses me with their creative/musical gifts or whatever else it may be, I am hearing the whisper of God sweetly saying “I love you and you are never alone, so keep going.” 

Oh and did I mention that they have outstanding coffee?

  

Merry Christmas and may your eyes be ever-seeing the many ways that God pursues you with His love and

wants you to know that you are never alone.

NOT FOR SALE!

The breath of Autumn blows about

And plays beneath her skirt

While rainbow-colored toes

Are gliding sweetly through the dirt

She spins and bends and reaches out

To touch the setting sun

While silencing her critics

Who have kept her on the run

And perched upon a lofty vine

A lone bird watched her dance

And sang the sweetest melody

That captured her in trance

And lost in perfect rhythm

She took hold of its wings

But as the bird took flight with her

She felt the bitter sting

Of sharp and fiery fingertips

That carved into her flesh

Then pulled her from the sweet bird’s wing

And sold her off to DEATH

And now she waves her shackles

In that heartless, barren vale

While one bird weeps to all who pass

“NO, SHE IS NOT FOR SALE!”

How Karen Got Her Groove Back!

It started out as a nice thought, but it seemed so distant.  You know the kind I mean:  When you think to yourself “that would be such a perfect thing, BUT”.  That “but” tends to come in and crush dreams.  “But it will take too much time/money/etc.”  “But I’m just not ready for that right now.”  And so on.

I can find all kinds of reasons not to follow my dreams and this was headed toward the same lame excuses.  A while back I had taken a dance/fitness class called GROOVE (The Groove Method).  The concept is to provide a class that helps participants express themselves through their own unique style of dancing, using simple moves that can be expanded on for creativity.   The moment I started grooving in the class, I felt like it was calling me.  I have had a passionate love affair with dance all of my life and this was something I could do – teach this class and give women and girls permission to express themselves through dance and leave feeling like they’ve experienced something more than just a good workout.  I especially felt a longing to bring this class into the lives of women and girl survivors of trauma and abuse.  I saw a true value and healing power in what a class like this could provide.  BUT . . . I was still healing from my own trauma and didn’t feel ready to throw myself out there.  The risks seemed too great.  So, I let the “but” convince me that “later” would be a better time, knowing that “later” would not likely present itself without my willingness to say yes to it.

I watched a couple of opportunities to get my facilitator training come and go and was about to pass up another, when a turn of events just days before the training let me know the time was now.  I could not believe how it all came together and I went for it.  I felt like I had already conquered so much just by showing up.   But my blessings had only begun to pour out!  Before the class even began, I had already made passionate connections with several of my fellow classmates.  We were women of different ages and backgrounds who shared a love for dancing and a desire to celebrate life and the people we experience in it.  It felt so good to be there.

As we started dancing, I literally poured out sweat and tears from way down deep in my soul.  Somewhere between the music, the movements, the expression and the presence of beauty and passion in the women dancing around me, I found myself.  So many parts of me that had been lost came rushing towards me, embracing me like a lost child who had finally found its mother.   I was at home in my body and enjoying a moment when I felt completely comfortable in my own skin – like I belonged there and deserved to enjoy being there! 

As if that were not enough, I received another important gift that I have struggled with all of my life.  Most of us as women desire to feel beautiful and sexy, however that may look to us, not so much the world and culture around us.  I can’t speak for other women, but I personally have struggled with fear over what the consequences might be if I desire to look and feel beautiful and sexy.  I don’t mean dressing provocatively to attract the wrong kind of attention or putting the emphasis on my hair, makeup, clothes, etc.  I simply mean doing things and creating my own style that I can own and feel attractive in for my own personal satisfaction.  We all need that as women and when it is missing from our lives, we don’t feel our optimal selves.  Being able to move my body in a way that feels good to me in my soul in a safe environment, without being judged allowed me to leave any shame or fear on that dance floor and that is where I intend for them stay.  I just needed permission (as many of us often do without even realizing it) to embrace it instead of fear it. 

I received so much healing and my soul has experienced a revival.  I am ready and willing to pass it on, even though the teaching part is still very much out of my comfort zone.  As always, whenever I seek out a way to connect with and help others heal, I receive the most healing.  I don’t know what kind of impact I may have on people with this class, but if I can give back even a fraction of what I have received from it, I will have done something to be proud of.   So, to those of you who helped give me that extra push to take the risk and offered support and encouragement to sustain me through the self-doubts and fears (you know who you are) and to my God, who created me with unique gifts to glorify His name, thank you for helping me get my groove back!  

Waiting on the Juncos

It was one of those days when the pain was overwhelming and making it through the everyday tasks would require every ounce of strength I could muster.  I’ve had more of those days than I care to look back on over the past year or so, but they haven’t come without their hidden gifts.  I reached my breaking point as I pulled into the carport.  Everything that I had been holding back behind my smile came rushing forward demanding to be freed from its holding place.  As soon as the car stopped, I dissolved into the steering wheel and the dam gave way.  I was fighting a deep sense of emptiness that was hungering to be filled and I hadn’t the slightest  idea what to do with it.  The only thing that I could think of as I sat there bathed in loneliness was to call out and ask God for a tangible reminder of His love and tender care for me.  Without even thinking, I cried out to my heavenly Father “Let me just see one junco today so that I know you are there!”

I love birds.  Watching them has brought so much beauty and comfort into my life and it always seems like they show up in some special way just to send me a message – that Heaven sees me and that I am not alone.  It might be the purr of feathered wings in flight so close they nearly graze my hair or a show of color in shades of cardinal, bluebird, and purple finches against a backdrop of sparkling snow.  Every year around this time, I wait with anticipation for the juncos to return for the winter.  They are not the most beautiful birds, but they bring a source of joy to me when I see them show up at my kitchen window every year to announce that Autumn is in full swing and the fresh beauty of winter is soon to follow.  I love this time of year and find so much beauty and peace in its splendor. 

So when I asked God to show me the juncos, I knew He would hear me and delight in my request.  I expected to see a junco that day.  I was constantly looking out my kitchen window and hanging around outside, watching and waiting.  Later that day, I was in my art room and I heard chirping outside my window.  I looked out and smiled at what I saw:  It was a sparrow poking the ground for scraps from the birdfeeder above.  Immediately, I knew he had heard my cry.  I asked for a junco, but he gave me something better.  Now, if birds had a caste system, a sparrow would be just a notch above a crow or a buzzard.  They are not the favored bird of the winged creatures.  How often I have felt like a sparrow when I longed to be a cardinal. But our Maker favors us all.  As soon as I saw that sparrow I thought of two things:  1) That we need not fret over our needs because God takes care of even a lowly sparrow and we are of more value to Him than many sparrows (Matthew 10:27-31).  And 2)  The privilege of being present several months back to watch an amazing teenage girl I have known and loved and who has suffered many torments and trials sing “His Eye is on the Sparrow” in front of an audience.  She has known some dark days, but was able to stand up and use her voice to let others know “I sing because I’m happy, and I sing because I’m free!  His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches over me.” 

That gift alone was more than I asked for!  As if that were not enough, the very next day, He gave me (and yes, that snow was just for me) a rare and early snow that brought birds of every color to surround my house.  As that first snow fell softly and peacefully on my soul, the birds and I traded gifts of sustenance.  I was more than satisfied but my Father wasn’t finished lavishing His love on me.  I also had the assurance that the juncos would be coming any day, and while I waited, I could cling to the reminder that, not only am I not alone but that I am here to come alongside those who have also felt like a worthless sparrow and sing the truth of who they really are into their souls!  I can’t do that if I forget who I really am and shrink into something less.  That has been a relentless battle for me over the past many years.  Abuse and lies have left a cloud of shame over me that I hadn’t truly recognized until more recently and the enemy is breaking out the heavy artillery now that I am aware of that cloud.  I know this and I know that there will be more days when I find my face planted into my steering wheel, wanting to wave my white flag and let my inadequacies consume me.  I expect them.  But I expect the juncos and I know that God is saving their arrival for a time when I will need to see them even more than I did the day I asked for them.   Glory!

“Now to him who is able to do exceedingly and abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, to Him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever.  Amen.”           -  Ephesians 3:20&21

Journey Into Spring

She’s waiting on the juncos

In the coolness of the day

While autumn leaves are trickling down

Like glitter on parade

And there upon the frosted soil

A blanket fused in color

To quiet nature’s precious babes

And nurture like a mother

How sweet these quiet pleasures

That croon and captivate

Her senses lost in luxury

A gift to she who waits

And who, but her Creator

Would think of such sweet things

To lavish on her weakened soul

While Autumn climbs to Spring

And even as the last leaf falls

And the juncos take their places

The countenance of winter’s sting

Has taken on new faces

She’s clothed in brazen layers

That offer firm protection

Now only beauty touches her

As snow falls like affection

In twilight’s sparkling silence

The snowflakes tell her stories

A balm for all her fears of Spring

That steal the season’s glory

And now the tulips poke their heads

Up from the sleepy ground

Her heart laments with violent beats

Yet cannot make a sound

Then colors new and delicate

Undress her deepest fears

As she makes love to Beauty there

And rains victorious tears!

- Karen Davis King

Dear Weakness . . .

Dear Weakness,

I am writing to you to apologize and beg your forgiveness.  I have a confession to make.  I have harbored a special hatred for you all of my life because I misunderstood who you were and what your purpose and intentions were.

But today I finally understood.

I always felt threatened and afraid of you because you made me feel so inadequate and useless.  You were always in my face reminding me of all that I couldn’t do.  I thought you were taunting me and that you enjoyed seeing me paralyzed by fear, but today I saw you with new eyes.  I saw you as a loving mother sees her innocent, growing child.  Right before me, you became a precious thing to be embraced.  I no longer need to hate you or ignore you in order to like myself.  I know who you are and therefore, I know who I am.

I’m sorry for all of the times I slandered you, beat you into a corner, ignored you, belittled you, and every other way I have mistreated you.  I didn’t know that you came bearing gifts in Love.  I didn’t know you had been sent as a messenger from God to keep me close to Him.  I didn’t know then all of the good things that would come from the “unwanted” gifts you brought.  But today, I know and I approach you with my white flag.  I come in peace and I surrender. 

Beauty for Ashes,

Your Stronger Self

The Perfect Parent

My day had begun much like other days.  I fueled my spirit with God’s word and a lively conversation with Him about all of my concerns, joys, sorrows and fears, followed by a heart-pumping workout to send me into my day with energetic vigor.  These two things – time with God and physical exercise – breathe new life into my mind, body and soul.  When my day begins this way, I feel ready for anything.  And, like many days that get off to a powerful start, I grow weaker and less energetic as the day wears on.  How often I have left my home and arrogantly looked out at the world around me with a daring sentiment: “BRING IT!”  And how often I have found myself humbled by lunchtime! 

This day was no different.  I went into it feeling especially equipped to handle whatever my ever-changing tween was going to throw at me.  I had been struggling to understand and “cure” her more recent behavior and attitudes and I had prayed for everything from patience and wisdom, to enough common sense not to be outsmarted by her (again).   I was lifted up and I believed firmly that God was going to guide me through the mine field and that my daughter and I would come out unscathed, having “done it right” this time.   I was ready to do God’s will, confident in His direction and fully equipped for the battle . . . and then she came home from school.

Everything I had pictured in my mind flew out the door when she came through it.  As our brief conversation about school, friends and other topics moved to homework and practicing guitar, things quickly changed and progressed into a downward spiral.  I left her alone in her room to engage in her more recent sulking ritual that seems to take up more time than actual homework and at some point during that process, I heard the thumpings of a temper tantrum coming from her room and that’s when I snapped.  I did not stop to consider what was going on in my heart to make me react so strongly to her behavior, nor did I allow myself any buffer time before I threw open her door and joined her in her tantrum.  She had thrown around a box that her sister had bought for her and the beating had broken the top clean off.  It pains me greatly to admit what happened next.  I did not hesitate to follow her example instead of leading with the maturity and patience she needed.  I simply asked if she was sure she was done with her tantrum as I flung the box across the room for one last flight . . . right as her sister stepped into the doorway to witness the whole ugly thing.  At that moment, I was engulfed in the aftermath of Hurricane Karen with one child crying and one child looking at me like I was the grim reaper coming to collect her soul.  A blanket of shame swept over me and I was poised to give myself a brutal inner beating.  I suddenly knew what Adam & Eve felt when God came calling after they had eaten the forbidden fruit.   I was exposed and ashamed.

I knew I couldn’t just stand there, so I apologized to both of them and told them that I needed to regroup so that the situation would not worsen.  They were more than happy to oblige.  I wanted to hide from God because I knew He saw it all and He was calling for me . . . “What went wrong, Karen?”  I took off running – literally.  I ran through my neighborhood, listening over and over again to the same song – How He Loves Us.   The song kept pouring the truth about God’s grace into my heart until I was completely drenched in it. 

In addition to those beautiful words and music, I was hearing God tell me that I lost sight of Him in that exchange and that He loves me with a fierce love no matter how many times I get it wrong.  He was telling me to try again – that the day isn’t over and neither is His work in me.  God knew that I was never going to be able to make it authentically right without first receiving His grace.  Once we had taken care of that, I was able to approach my girls with humility, minus the hovering cloud of shame that typically accompanies my apologies.  There is one line out of that powerful song that puts it all in perspective for me:  “I don’t have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way He loves us.”  It drove home the point that if we are focused on His love for us, our regrets lose all their power over us and we are free to move forward without dragging the weight of our mistakes behind us.  I am finally coming to “believe” what I’ve always known.

Looking back, I am grateful for this particular parental fowl because it gave me an opportunity to share with both of my daughters what grace looks like when we are truly able to “accept” it.  We cannot pass it on to others if we don’t first accept it for ourselves.  As always, my heavenly Father has brought much fruit and beauty out of my failures, ugliness and inadequacies.   Oh How He Loves Us . . .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxTOsQ3LDE4