We Sing. We Dance. We Steal Things.

I borrowed the title from Jason Mraz’s latest album, which you may or may not have noticed. So I’d like to tip my hat to Mr. Mraz for the inspiration. I have no idea if what he was talking about is anything close to what I think when I read those three sentences, but I digress.

This morning I was preparing breakfast for my son, and as I served it to him I decided I wanted to watch the Jason Mraz video I bought at FYE. As I picked it up from the table, I read the title “We Sing. We Dance. We Steal Things.” For some reason the thoughts began to pour in.

We Sing. We sing for joy. We sing for release (or at least I know I do). We sing for healing. We sing because at our core we gain great joy in that space where there is nothing but those precious words, the music, and us.

In your place of worship (if you have one) you give praise, and it’s in that place of ultimate surrender that you feel such incredible, overwhelming emotions, and God fits in those spaces of hurt and lets you know He is there. He is present.

In everyday life, songs speak volumes to us. They don’t even have to be overly sentimental lyrics, but just getting in the car (or wherever you might be at the time) and shedding the skin of the day, the stress of the day, you belt out your favorite songs and feel a sense of release. It’s an incredible feeling. I love singing, I always have. I love creating while singing. I love sitting in a circle with people, guitars and other instruments playing, and just creating something out of thin air. Maybe it’s something that’s been festering in my heart that intuitively makes its debut, or something just fun. There are few things better in the entire world.

We Dance. We dance, and certainly not with the most incredible grace. Sometimes we dance without a care in the world. As they say, “Dance like no one is watching.” That takes a lot of courage, at least for me considering I am tremendously self-conscious. We throw our hands up in the air, and with a smile on our face we move to music, we move out of sense of achievement (the happy dance). We let go. We dance.

We Steal Things. We steal things every day, and not always intentionally. We steal things without realization of the crime. When we are in conversation with someone and think our thoughts and words are more important than theirs to the extreme that we don’t allow them to get a word in edgewise. When we don’t return a phone call because we’re “too busy”. When we don’t pick up the phone to touch base with someone we swear is important to us. When we forget special times in the lives of those we care about. When our words cut like knives. When we don’t say, “I love you”. When we take people for granted. We steal little pieces of them. We do.

What’s worse is that it’s hard to give those pieces back, because in the time we have those pieces they can chip, develop new shapes, and maybe even grow and they no longer fit in the spaces they originated from. We steal things, tangible or intangible. We steal things. Precious things.

It’s the times when we allow ourselves to be present, to be warm, to be loving, to be intentional that we touch the hearts of others. When we reach outside of ourselves. When we think beyond ourselves. When we surrender our selfishness. When we not only make ourselves available to those we encounter, but invite them into our sacred spaces, too. When we take their hand and invite them to dance with us, to sing with us, to heal with us. This is where healing begins, and joy thrives.

Dance, sing and be present. Love more, and steal less. Dance more, without fear of the eyes watching you. Sing, but sing from your heart, and let the magic of the experience touch your soul. Lift up your voice, move your feet and let go of it all, and while you’re at, it invite someone to join you and share in the experience.

You are Captivating

Last night was our final session for our bible study group on the book "Captivating". I have really enjoyed reading this book...well for the most part. This book has held the proverbial mirror up, and made me acknowledge all the destructive behaviors I have been living with. This hasn't been easy. The most prominent of these behaviors is my tendency to hide. I hide in my work, my responsibilities, my obligations, etc. The thing was that I never realized I was hiding. I actually believed that I was just a workaholic! In actuality I was running from my emotions, the pain they carry, my rampant insecurities, and so much more. When I realized what I was doing, it was like hitting a wall that I could not get around. The only way out was through. The range of emotions was great, and I cried a lot through this process but not always from sadness. It was a cleansing of my spirit...something I've needed for a very long time.

As we completed this wonderful book, the mood was bittersweet. Many of us, if not all of us, didn't want it to end. And eventhough it was the last chapter of the book, God was still working in miraculous ways through each of our hearts. I won't get into the details of what was said, because that is private, but I can tell you that through it all God has healed, mended, been exhaulted, and built what I believe to be life-long friendships. Each of these women I have had the privilege to spend this precious time with is such a beautiful person...inside and out. If you know them, you should consider yourself blessed. I know I do.

Eventhough I did not have all the words I was looking for last night, and maybe wasn't as eloquent as I would have liked to have been, I was able to say something that was very important to me. I was able to tell my best friend what an amazing woman she is, and how grateful and blessed I have always felt to not only know her, but to call her my friend. I have told countless people countless times what a special friend she is to me, but I never sat down and told her to her face. I was so thankful for the opportunity. :)

So that brings me to this question...who matters to you? Have you let them know? I mean really let them know. Have you sat down with them and told them what a blessing to your life they are, or are you just assuming they already know? If that's the case, you might be surprised to learn they don't always know. We all have our insecurities, and sometimes just hearing it, knowing deep in your core that you're special to someone can be so healing. Words are so powerful, and they may just be what "your person" needs to hear. If you're anything like me, you may not realize how saying those words may make you feel. It's an incredible feeling all around, and I would challenge you to do say what needs to be said.

Proverbs 4:23 "Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life."

Kelli Through the Looking Glass

It's been a while since I've blogged about anything, and for a girl who generally has a lot to say I am finding myself not knowing where to start.

A couple weeks ago something happened, and I didn't know how to handle it. It was a transition, but unlike most transitions it was crippling. I won't get into the specifics, but let me just say that I was lost in how to take it all in. I felt like I didn't know how to function, that I was worthless, unneeded, unappreciated, etc. I just wanted to stay home, crawl under the covers and cry. I was depressed. I can't remember the last time I felt that low.

A few days later, I was at a Predators game with my friend Heather and her family. While we were sitting there, she invited me to a bible study she was having at her home for women. She told me to read up to chapter 4 in the book "Captivating". I had no idea what the book was about, but I was interested.

That weekend, Tom, Zachary and I ventured to Detroit and Columbus for a "Hockey Road Trip" as we were calling it. Because Tom prefers to do the driving, this afforded me the opportunity to read a lot. With my feet on the dashboard, my seat reclined and heart ready I opened the book. Within the first few pages I knew there was a reason Heather invited me, and there was a reason it was this book. (God often puts Heather in a place to help me, and for that I will forever be unable to express my gratitude.) There were many times I was glad I had on my sunglasses, because I didn't want Tom to see me crying. This book, in a few short chapters, told my life story, and the people who wrote it don't have a clue who I am. That being said, I think there are facets of my story that are all too familiar to many women.

As I read, I approached a section of the book that featured brief snippets of other women's stories. Through almost all of them I told myself, "That's you. That's your story." It was incredibly difficult to read, because it forced the pieces of me that I hate so much to the surface. All the pieces of my past that in some way shaped me into who I am, who I see in the mirror, a reflection I have forever struggled with. The author talked about hiding - not just physically (which I have done since I was 2 years old), but emotionally, from not only the people around you but yourself. All those little pieces I hid for years, were now visible and I couldn't stand it. I felt so much shame, and it wasn't the book's fault. It just made me realize I am terrific at hiding, and it's about time I quit that.

There are many stories from my past, the "pieces" as I often call them, but in the interest of not hurting anyone else I will refrain from sharing them specifically. I will be as generic as I can. Growing up, I struggled with feeling seen, noticed and appreciated. My biological father left when I was a few months old. That feeling of abandonment has never left the scene unfortunately. I lacked a true father figure for years, and my mother had to raise two girls on her own until I was 11. Certainly not the easiest of tasks, but I always felt pushed to the wayside. At a young age I figured out that if I excelled at school, I would gain the praise of my teachers. Later on life I realized the same thing about work. I hid in my studies and in my work. I worked hard, and in return received the praise of my teachers and employers. At times it felt like the only place I was appreciated, and until a few weeks ago I had no idea I was hiding all this pain there.

A couple weeks ago, I was told (at work) that there was no way I could continue doing the work of three people, as I had been for over a year. I was told that someone else would be doing one part of my job, and I would continue doing the other. I was devastated. The one place I sought refuge had failed me. I had failed my self. I told myself I wasn't good enough, fast enough and strong enough, and that I should have been able to do it all. Words of my childhood had crept into my work life, and I didn't know how to put one foot in front of the other. I didn't know how to recover...until I opened this book.

This book has made me realize and question myself. Yes, all those pieces I hate about myself were brought to the surface. Yes, I did wish I was still that little girl twirling in my yellow Easter dress wishing someone would say, "Kelli! You're such a lovely little girl." Yes, I finally acknowledged my hatred for my appearance in the mirror (because when I look, I see more than my outward appearance). Yes, I woke up to the fact that I had been seeking refuge in the wrong places my whole life. I poured my all into school, work and service, and while there is nothing wrong with being studious, a hard worker or serving, there is something very wrong with using it to hide. All those times when I hid in those things, I was only prolonging the pain. I was a girl disappearing. Even now, I am wondering whether or not I should post this blog. Again, trying to hide myself.

At this time, the point driven home the most is that I have been seeking refuge in a place that wasn't safe at all (a glass house, if you will). And while not everyone reading this will agree, I know where I should have been going with all of this pain, hurt, frustration and shame. I should have been handing it over to God. For years I've been ashamed, and I've had the tools, I've known to turn to Him since I was 14. I just never realized how much I was hiding. So here I stand, feeling very naked surrounded by the shards of my life and thanking God for the proverbial broom (thanks Viv) to sweep it all away. Will it be easy? Life isn't easy...but it's worth it.