The Dance

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He still wants you. Oh yes you. You stand at the corner of the room. Your excuse, your shoes hurt and are covered in blood. But you know you can heal. 

Wear your shoes and step and out on the dance floor.

He isn't dancing yet because you haven't arrived on the floor
You've given up on your self
You've thought you'll never dance again.
Your shame, is the rope tying you to the ground. Gravity isn't this weighty.

A number of us still have strong wings but the only thing is we've passed our own judgement and chosen not to believe the report of The Lord. 

Even when you fall, come. Come running.
I love you. I promise I'll always will.
I chose you and in still choosing.
If you think I will give up on you just cause you messed up then you're I chose because you're strong.

I'm no Barter God. You are not a profit instrument. You are my love. My unconditional love. I love you. I'm patient with you. I'm waiting for you. 

Sometimes I wonder as an observer on this thing called 'living' if we really believe the love of God. How is it affecting our decisions, our responses and our own personal love and power. Is it making us fearless as a race or we're cowering in?

I won't start dancing till you step out.
But I know we'll dance cause you'll step out.
My love is making you strong.
I love you. I promise I'll always will.
I chose you and I'm still choosing you. 

Children of heaven, let's settle it in our mind as soon as possible (ASAP) that our God is love and good. It would save us time. . . time to do our moves on the dance floor. 

Right now He's calling. But sometimes the call can feel like a burden. I am saying this with all the audacity I can mutter:

 Unclench your fist and rest if you aren't ready for The Dance. Just come in if you are weary, broken, and tired. Come in to the room. Don't sit in the corner. There in center stage, Make your bed. Lay down your fears that He will trip over you as He dances. As He dances around and over you, you my friend will receive the strength you need as He beckons:

Come love, let's dance.

Hover:

"Learning to move her body to its limitations. Teaching her body to listen to her soul's desires. She is learning to fly. She is learning self discipline and control of emotions and that she is actually limited only by her imagination.The Dance is heavenly."

"We start as children, with hopes and dreams. And if we are lucky enough to not be afraid to keep dreaming, all our dreams will come true."

"Hope is. . . we will experience all we've been promised even when we live in the consequences of regrets of waiting on promises"

Baking Bread: Chef [x interview]

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So God bakes bread these days?

Hmm, not really *Laughs* I think I like the idea that ingredients can be one of the worst things to consume ordinarily but when heat, condiments and sweeteners come in, dinner is served.

So tell us, is the fire really necessary? I mean if there is a God and he loves us so much, can't we just have a very smooth ride? How necessary is the fire?

I will take it from here, I think first a lot of very 'ordinary' things like nature, child birth, and even general processes like the way valuable things like gold are gotten are a mirror of the spiritual journey God has for every man. The process is important.

I always like to think it this way: I am the stuff that would live forever I better be well formed, I better not be half baked.

And it's not just only hard things God brings our way. He gives us room to breathe, the green pastures to lie in so our souls is refreshed for the journey. And he knows how to balance these experiences cause he knows what we need as individuals to mature. I think that's why I connect so well with the allegory of the chef. A good chef has a mastery of balance.

In your essay, you paint a picture of someone in a kitchen which he/she can't make sense of. I'm not sure if that's you. And at the end of it, you end with a prayer. I was thinking you would end with a 5 step plan to get your groove back. Why is this?
I think we live in a do-it generation and I must say cause of this, prayer has really been underrated. I mean just opening up your mouth and having a sincere conversation with God, is fast loosing its meaning. We think of how to solve our problems first then if it doesn't work out then we run to God. But God should be the first person we go to.

I also think a prayer no matter how irregular is very powerful, in fact one the most powerful arsenal we have as humans here on earth. It like a catalyst, an alignment, a trigger, it causes things to change and cause things to happen.

At the end of your essay you also mentioned, bread and feeding the multitude. Tell us more.
I think we miss one of the most inspiring tenets of life in our chasing the [insert your nationality] dream. *Laughs* And this is it: my life is not about me. Our life isn't really about us, neither is the story we are living. I mean a character doesn't play a role to sit back and watch or be entertained by it. In fact he can't do these events consecutively. We stage in God's story so that others can see his glory via our lives. 

Hmm deep thoughts. Any last words for our readers?

I would say no matter where you are as this year ends, the end of the year is not the end of you. No matter the broken dreams or what you couldn't achieve this year, bow your knees and pray and raise your head and go do whatever he tells you. Fear not. Be brave. The master chef is your kitchen. And yes Merry Christmas too.

P.S.- If you haven't, Click here to read Chef, the essay.

Chef.

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Eating food.
Making food.
Whichever you prefer, the first we all love, in fact a necessity.

This is your salt.
These are your eggs.
This is your flour.
Now eat. Food is ready.

The ingredients are never food enough.
We need some fire. Something to hold them together and then more fire.

I stood over the edge of my life the other day and honestly it seemed like a messed up kitchen.
There was some good stuff going on.
There was my sugar.
I wanted all of it and more but I can't live on sugar. Even though that's all I want my mouth to taste of.
There were some greens. They were bitter and I had them sprawled around the kitchen floor.
This is not what I want.
You see, I couldn't make any sense of it then.

But when the chef steps into the kitchen, he will make a dish of nourishment and celebration no matter how extreme, bittersweet or bland the ingredients are.

Life throws us things we can't make sense of but when we give it to God, It's like a million dollar recipe in a chef's hand. He knows exactly what dish to make of it.

This is your butter.
This is your salt.
This is your flour.

Alone you can't have any of it for breakfast but in the hands of God, with the fires of life, he can bake the best bread.

From stone water will come. From your mess a message will ensue. From our disgrace, his grace would emerge. He adds and removes and cooks it all up like the best chef in town. The foul odored eggs we couldn't stand, the bland taste of flour and the harsh salt we couldn't munch a mouthful, he has added to the sugar we always want to have all day to make a great cake.

Now say after me if your heart is broken even as this year ends or your hope frail.

This is my life, these are the broken pieces. Take it and do what You do best.
Make bread and feed the multitude.

When They Leave The Room And You Didn't Know Someone Had Left.

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So it all starts when you're screaming at me, accusing me of things without giving time for explanations.
I believe you are awesome. . .or you could be.
There was something I saw before I moved in with you.
You weren't pretty but I saw beauty in the making.

Sometimes the problem in love isn't we aren't ready to meet our other halfway. Sometimes we arrive halfway at the said meeting time and the venue is empty. Love is about the efforts made.

I want you. The long nights we had talking junk and sipping chilled cool aid is still in the attic of my memory. 
I won't lie. I want you.
But if you keep choosing a script which reads out of focus, I would have to live even if you're still in the room. 
I would have to turn up the music, do a dance and let joy in. 
Life is short. Time is precious. I am on a mission. I will be waiting for you when you're ready for me.

The day you left, my side eye caught you packing your things. I can't deny I didn't know when you were about to leave. As I danced to the loud music, a part of me by default prayed that God would make you stay. But then you were gone.

"The day you left, my side eye caught you packing your things. I can't deny I didn't know when you were about to leave. But then you were gone.

After you were gone, someone asked after you. We searched the whole room. We looked for you everywhere imaginable. We turned upside down the couch we had sat and watched reruns of Dawson's Creek on. Your favorite mug broke as we searched the kitchen area. 5 hours later I remembered you actually had left the room sometimes earlier."