Engagement

The first engagement is DaughteroftheMostHigh's to her boyfriend of, what...three years? Exciting. I am so excited for the both of them and can't wait till Octoberish when they plan on having their wedding. ;D Deserves an emoticon.

Second engagement...said boyfriend's to a more 'engaged' role in FirePlace. Well, D's too. I'm officially making myself a resource for them now as my family and I get closer to the move. God's taken me through a lot the past three months, and now as the time for me leaving nears, he's been helping me to let go (aka prying my fingers away) of many things, FP one of them. It's hard, it is a vision given me, but I have to realize that it is NOT mine. And it can't be realized unless I allow God to do what He wants. Which I knew in my head, but he has been allowing me to know in my heart. So D and fiance are stepping forward to help spearhead FP. Can't wait to see how God uses them to impact this generation.


Third engagement is that of me and dance lessons. Lol. I'll write out a new 'poem' for that one. But what God has shown me, in part, is that now as I enter the field, Abelmeholah, that it isn't just a place of rest--though I do have that briefly and when needed--it is, in fact, like a dance studio. So now that he has spent three months strengthening my legs and teaching me pure endurance...I get to learn the actual steps. Imagine my reaction when he says "It shall be in vain if ye anticipate resting in a comfortable place. Lo, Zion is already filled with those who are at ease. No, ye shall find thyself put in a place of training and discipline, so that when the moments of crisis come ye shall not become faint-hearted, and ye shall not be the victim of unwonted fear." (Come Away My Beloved Frances J. Roberts, 1973). No, actually my first one was not one of unadulterated joy...I hope you hear my sarcasm. I was pouty. Not necessarily upset, just a little perturbed. Like a kid with their ice cream taken away. Yeah, two-year-old style. Regardless, I was saddened a little.
So my meadow of milk and honey is beautiful and all, but it's the courtyard of training, where I learn to use my weapons...aka, learn the steps of the dance, and the different moves. Pretty, but not just for comfort.
Battle-ready soldiers will come to my field to teach me how to dance. And I will not be safe from all attacks. God will allow them simply so that I can learn to dance. How else but through hand-on experience?
I've already had the wonderful privilege of being hit upside the head because my nose was raised to the sky. Got an uppercut that knocked me back a bit. Fun stuff. But God's grace is that he gives me time, resources, and patience in my learning how to respond(or in this case, NOT) to the attack. I had to get on my knees. Not stand up again. It's amazing how vulnerable you feel down there. And yet I think it is probably the most secure and safe position to be in.
It hurt, yes, and it hurt more because it came from a fellow member of the body. But the reality is that God wants to teach me this: I can see these things coming before they happen if I'm not A.) lifting my nose in the air and closing my eyes in a gesture of pride, or B.) looking at myself in any self-centered way. I also am learning that falling to your knees as a reaction to the punch coming can prevent the impact. They miss. Sigh.
Dance moves. Dance moves. That is going to be my repeated line for a while. Reminds me that this is all for a reason.


God is cool, though, and I am only beginning to understand the blessing and grace he has given me in these training periods.


Learning to dance, getting beat up, and loving the lessons...ahem.


--MovingGirl