Deborah Spooner
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She walks around the house, thinking.  She is feeling purposeless, unsure, underwhelmed, overwhelmed.  She, not sure where to go, what to do, or what to think, wanders into the kitchen, and the one place that catches her eye and seems to draw her to it is ...
the corner.
She can't help but think this is a little strange because she is usually not the type who sees a corner and decides to go and hide in it, just sitting there, back wedged against the wall and a cabinet.  She especially shouldn't feel like this when the floor is cold and the space is slightly cramped because she both is not a fan of cold and is claustrophobic, hating to feel trapped and confined.
Yet, she is sitting here in the corner none the less.
In this corner she feels small but safe.  She feels that as she is considering so much and trying to find direction in life there is finally something solid beneath and around.  With her head resting against this cabinet, she wishes that all the answers to decisions would appear and that life could sort itself out.  If only she could just snap her fingers so that all of my life's fragments would arrange themselves and present themselves.
(Somehow she gets the feeling that this just isn't going to happen.)
Here in this corner, she wishes she didn't feel so empty.  Deep down, she knows this feeling is what brought her here in the first place.  The world feels too big.  Her dreams feel unable to become a reality.  She feels at a loss of what to do.  She feels agonizingly alone.  She feels small and pale and useless.  She feels very much like this corner, overlooked and not too extraordinary.  (After all, there are many corners in the world.)
She doesn't know how to stop this aching, empty feeling in her chest.

What would life be like without this corner?
If this corner disappeared, an exterior wall to the house would also vanish leaving the house exposed to all kinds of things - weather, intrusive strangers and animals to name a few.  The house would be practically ruined because who would want to live in a place so vulnerable?  If the other side of my corner - the cabinet - was gone along with all its contents, her family would be left without a lot of  food and storage containers.  That would mean she would be one hungry child.  It would mean frustration for her mom as she tries to find a storage place to replace that of the cabinet in our already small kitchen.
Those are just some negative things immediately apparent if this corner disappeared, and she knows it has more functions than those alone.
(It's a pretty awesome corner, after all, which is great for sitting in as she just found). 
Truly, the world would be a different place without this corner.

She can't help wondering if the same is true of her and all of us today.
Just as this corner has a myriad of purposes, we must as well.  Some purposes we openly see and realize, yet others may remain a mystery.  There are actions we preform with visible impacts - talking to a lonely girl and making her smile, sitting with grandma and listening to her stories, helping little sisters with homework, and giving advice to a hurting friend.  Yet, there are purposes for our lives that we may not be able to see just yet and plans that God is waiting to reveal to us.  He knows what He is doing in our lives and is working it out in His perfect timing.
Sometimes, we just need to trust Him in the meantime.

© 2013 Deborah Hope Shining

I stare at the picture frame on the wall.  I'm looking but not really seeing as my thoughts are deep and disconnected from my surroundings.  I sigh, momentarily aware of myself again.  I get up; I can't sit still for the life of me.  I need to run.  I need to climb something.  I need to do anything that will make my muscles burn, strain me, test my limits, and give me a tangible physical barrier to struggle against.
I let out a grunt of frustration because I know I cannot burn off this restlessness as I want.  In the darkness outside there is six inches of snow and roads so slick with ice I can only slide and not even walk on.  It's been three days since I left the house, got into the open air, and was immersed by people.  Three days, and I. am. going. crazy.   My sister sees it and has told me I need to run or something because I'm just not myself.  I sigh but feel the truth of her statement.  I can be devastatingly easy to read at times.
I look around my room and see the wooden strip of my bed frame.  It's sturdy and almost half as narrow as my feet.  Perfect.  I hop up and work on my balance as I move from one side to the other.
Life is just getting to be so much.  There is a bazillion thoughts rushing through my head like a scrap of paper that keeps blowing out of my reach and leaves me exhausted and dizzy.  My emotions, intense and immense, pulse through me.  I have wanted this time to work through things, to stop pushing my emotions away, and to stop dashing so quickly through life.  I need this time to think and have know that Christmas Break was the perfect time to do it.  Yet, allowing my emotions to really surface and working through them is plain 'ole hard work.  My intensity is both a great strength that can be channeled usefully, and a heavy, burdening weakness.  I lose my balance and hop to the floor.  Life could be a lot easier without this intensity capacity.
The world is so big, and I am just one small teenager.  The world is so big, and I am desperate to find my place in it.  My dreams do not pale in comparison to the world's size.
They pale in comparison to my fear and my doubt.
They pale in comparison to the emptiness inside.
You see, I've been waiting for my life it start.  Waiting.  Watching others.  Observing everything around me.  Analyzing myself.  I've passively existed in two and a half years of my high school, knowing I should be actively pursing something, but doubting what I should pursue, how I should pursue it, and why I really am pursuing it.  Frankly, I've been doubting the very foundations of who I am.
All my observations have fueled my passiveness turned discontentment inside.  On the big screen, I see heroism and sacrifice.  I read of friends that challenge each other to become more than they thought possible.  A love that heals, a faithful and united group that pushes against odds, a character fighting for truth all are tantalizing to me.  As I check my balance and decide that moving back and forth across the bar is getting too easy, my eyes alight on the pictures above my bed.  They are pictures from my life.  Still restless, I test how long I can stay perfectly still along this bar.
What do I see in my life?  These pictures over a year old show a girl who is more unsure and hurting than many see.  She is a girl who has watched others do awesome things and longed to do them herself, who has let opportunities slip by, who has been too caught up inside herself to live.  She is a girl who has dared to dream but not dared to try, afraid of failure and missing true purpose while doubting who she is and what she is worth.  I stare at the pictures at the wall and my heart hurts for the girl I see because I can feel her pain and have lived through her struggles. Waiting, always waiting. 
Waiting to act when the time was right.  Waiting till she felt she was ready.  Waiting for somebody to pick her out of the ditch and perfectly arrange life for her.  Waiting so that she would not have to find the strength within herself to push through.  Waiting, just waiting, for her life to start.
I am forced to hop down from my balancing game because my feet are aching.  As I crouch on the floor from landing, my head turns to the right, and I am faced with my current reflection in the mirror.  I stand and stare at myself while full of questions, scrutinies, judgements, frustrations, and longings.  Who truly am I at my core?  Where is my place?  Am I even valuable?  Will I ever belong?  Will I ever be free of my struggles?  My eyes move across my reflection until I am looking at my face.  My pursed eyebrows echo my raging discontentment.  I seem older than I often feel, yet younger than I sometimes think my self to be.  My eyes keep moving till they are locked with those in the mirror, my own.
I have always found a person's eyes to be the most fascinating part of them, and it is eerie to be faced with my own.  I don't know what I see; I feel I hardly recognize myself.  I see a girl who wants to hope again, who wants to dream anew, who wants to face the world and fight for the truth.  This girl has lived in numbing fear and paralyzing doubt for far. too. long.  I look at my reflection and know that, waiting for life to start, life has been slipping by.  Two and a half years of emptiness, discontent, and passivity.  Two and a half years spent questioning and watching and waiting.  Yet, at the heart, they were two and a half years spent growing up.
I move back to the pictures on my wall and look at little Deborah.  Her pains flash through my mind like scorching water.  The sting of her struggles I can still feel coursing through my veins.  The hot tears of agony that flowed down her cheeks and into her pillow countless nights have left an irremovable mark on my memory.  Yet the pain, the struggles, the agony were not barren.  Each pain I had to push through made me a fighter.  Each struggle I had to work through was emptying me into a vessel better capable of being filled by Christ.  Each agonizing tear I shed was like a drop, slowly chiseling my character so that I could come out stronger, so that I could come out free.
It was not in vain.
In the center of thes pictures, I have a canvas which an ancient proverb on it which reads "just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly."  I feel those words resound deep within me.  Those two and a half years, God had a purpose for.  For growth, for strengthening, for preparation.  They are more precious than gold.
But God grants sesaons and works His will in different ways.
It is time to wait no longer.
I am collapsed in front of the mirror with tears wet on my face and vision blurred.  I am that girl in the pictures no longer.  I have emerged anew, emerged as a precious child on the King of Kings, emerged just as loved and valued by Him as ever regardless of my own self-condemnation.  I have emerged more fully understanding Him and our relationship.  So this is what growth feels like.
I lift my eyes once more to those in the mirror.  This time, a different version of myself seems to be meeting my gaze.  A fierce feebleness resides in these eyes, eyes which acknowledge the feebleness of her fleshly self and the long road ahead, and eyes which burn with a fierceness of awakening.  I am the girl in the pictures no longer; I have been growing up.
I am to wait no longer.  The lessons I have learned are like an invisible scar that forever will remind me of God's faithfulness.  Seasons come and go, and I now must take what I have been taught and let it flow into action, to awake to the call God has placed on my life, and to find that I belong in Him.  It's time to shape up and really embrace my growing up.  No more excuses, laziness, passiveness, and disobedience.  It's time to be real, to be really God's.  To fight, to push, to be driven, to challenge, to continue to grow, to embark on this adventure fearless and certain of who I am as a child of God.
As I am looking into my reflection's eyes, I choose to see myself through my Abba's eyes and believe what He sees: a girl, broken yet becoming more and more beautifully into the image of Christ.
There is no turning back.
Life starts
now.
  © 2013 Deborah Hope Shining

God, get me off of my hypocritical high-chair.

Up there,
so full of knowledge, discernment, supposed wisdom, and seemingly vast experience,
excusing selfishness in the name of a healthy, balanced life
and
being too concerned with the
big things and
big people
to miss
the significant,
and too concerned
about establishing a name on earth - ahem, mine-
(but of course, not as consumed with self-establishment as others)
I sit:
actionless.

Up on the high chair -
head in the clouds
where thoughts are muddled
and
truth becomes tangled as doubt
mixes throughout -
I am kept in the high-chair
of infancy.

In reality,
I am a tool in the hand of the One
who claims the real high-chair:
the throne.

Yet, where was the enthroned One found?
Down
on Earth -
laughing, crying, sweating, walking, talking
with the people.
Love embodied who came not "to be served,
but to serve, and to give
His life
as a ransom for many" (Matt. 20:28).

So, how can I
simply sit,
hearing Your truth, but doing
n  o  t  h  i  n  g.

{Father, forgive me}

Should not faith produce
action which brings
change which produces  
healing which fosters
faith again?
Should not this cycle of love
be compelling me to action?

{Father, forgive me}
Oh, LORD, we need You.

Instead of being "high up,"
let's get "hyped up" and sold out
for
Jesus.

© 2013 Deborah Hope Shining

 The round, chocolate brown eyes were
glistening 
as the little Dominican girl's Spanish 
energetically flowed from her lips when she
 stretched out her hand to me.

A hand reaching out for mine
A heart open 
to give 
and to receive

love.

My ever-present little helper stayed at my 
side throughout the week.

Sweeping endless hallways, fetching paintbrushes for the 
other workers, finding missing waterbottles and sunglasses, 
moving chairs, and rearranging classrooms, 
Francesca
happily worked and filled the rooms with
laughter
and light.

A hand reaching out for mine
 A heart open to give
and to receive

love.

The days flew by,
and the time was gone far to quickly.

It was dark outside as we watched the movie in our plastic chairs.
Her brown hand grasped mine as she stared with anticipation at the movie screen.
The film concluded, 
and it was time to go.
But this time, when she asked if I would be back tomorrow,
I had to tell her no.
I would be going on an airplane over the ocean
back home.

Her face looked sad as she did not want to believe it.
"Adios, amiga.  No te olvidarè." I told her.
(Goodbye, friend.  I will not forget you)

Her hand stretched out one last time, 
and she gave me a hug.

A hand reaching out for mine
A heart open to give
and receive

love. 

I looked at the little girl,
and my heart was aching as the warm tear
slipped
down my face.
 
"For Christ's love compels us, 
because we are convinced that one died for all, 
and therefore all died.  
And he died for all, that those who live 
should no longer live 
for themselves 
but for 
him 
who died for them 
and was raised again" 
(2 Corinthians 5:14-15).

Her heart was open.
She, with a heart embracing others and her two little hands 
warmly outstretched,
left my heart convicted:
love crosses barriers,
opens doors, 
heals wounds,
comforts hurts,
and brings light.
An outstretched hand that 
is willing to help,
is desiring to come with on the broken road,
and will pick the fallen 
gives hope and life.

Christ's love, reflected in this little girl, is compelling,
urging to live a life with
a heart open
and arms outstretched
welcoming all who come.

Lord, give me your eyes to better meet the needs
of those around  me.
Grant me your heart to fully embrace them.

Thank you for the
two little hands
on an island in the Caribbean.

"Adios, amiga.  No te olvidarè."
© 2013 Deborah Hope Shining


The tear slips down her cheek.
Compassion tugs at your heart.
Yet, your feet keep moving away
because of fear of assosiation.

The laughter reaches your ears
and seems like a song inviting you to join in
to make new friends, to love others, to form memories.
Yet, fear of rejection keeps your head in your work
as the moment slips away.

The  kindness neglected
The words unspoken
The opportunity passed over 
The time
gone
 Suppressing fear.  Suffocating regret.

LORD, save us 
from fear's tight grip
regret's bitter taste
while awakening us 
to follow in Your footsteps - 
To live with abandon.

As the clock keeps ticking,
t  i  m  e
is passing by.
Each opportunity is a gift
that we have the responsibility
t  o           u  s  e.
The days regretted most are those
where you have not 
dived    fully    in.

Let us live with abandon, LORD, for You.


© 2013 Deborah Hope Shining

Her eyes reflect a deep sadness as one word seems to echo through her head:
alone.
The feeling is a heaviness weighing in her heart. 
She is feeling so steeped in this alone state that everything she sees seems to add more heaviness to her heart.
The harmless but smashingly clever Facebook status seems to suggest to her that she is not clever enough.  From her friend's new profile picture garnering seventy plus likes in the first three hours, she infers that she is not pretty enough.  
The group of high-schoolers working on their school projects and the "couple" laughing and chatting in the parking lot seem to tell her that she is not wanted.
From the pain in her heart, she decides the people around her appear distinguishably them:  
so pretty.  so perfect.  so glossed.  so socially flawless.  so ... 
happy.

Then, there she sits,
a high-schooler just like them,
yet, a high-schooler who is wondering if any will ever love her for ... 
just. being. her.

She feels surrounded in an atmosphere of the most beautiful, talented, witty, interesting, and unique, and feels completely lost amid the crowd.
Unnoticed.
"In order for anyone to look at me, to truly see me and to value me, I have to be somebody special" she muses.
She longs to say the funny comment at just the right time ...
to wear the cutest clothes that inspire the entire fashion world ...
to interact with the right people in just the right way ...
She feels that if she doesn't measure up to certain standards, no one will care about her because she lacks awe-striking qualities.
The thought of saying something wrong, having toothpaste on her face, having a hair sticking up awakwardly, or not getting a reference, brings fear that people won't accept her.  

Her heart is heavy, and she is cringing under her imagined restrictions in order to be included.

When I mess up, when people know my flaws and see my defects, how will they want to start a friendship with me?

Whhhyyy can't somebody look at me and truly see me for who I am and come of their own initiative to get to know me?  Will anybody value me just for who I am? 
Why don't I feel free ... free to be me?

Restricted.  Alone.  Unseen.

Yet, her heart tells her this is partly from being afraid.
Afraid to mess up.  Afraid to look stupid.  Afraid to even show her true colors in fear of being rejected.  
She hasn't let herself feel the loving arms of a non-demanding, unconditional, all consuming embrace  just for being her - imperfections, repeated failings, oddities, and more - in a long time.
Knowing her faults, she wonders if anyone would even love such a mess.

She longs for that,
an embrace to melt away into where she is free to be herself and is without fear of rejection.
 
"Will anyone see me how I am and yet love me for who I am?" her heart cries.

"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb" (Psalm 139:13).
"I have summoned you by name; you are mine" (Isaiah 43:1b).

There is one who loves this girl
deeply.
He saw her.  
He felt her pain, saw her imperfection, and heard her cries.
This friend felt love for her so much that He sacrificed for her.  
He paid it all ... endured death.

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son ..." (John 3:16a).

For His love 
is. that. real.

His arms are stretched wide, urging her to run to Him and be found in His embrace, an embrace
where there is grace for imperfections
where there is freedom from insecurities
where there is acceptance of where she is, yet also a challenge to be who she is created to be
where there is no fear because "There is no fear in love" (1 John 4:18a).

For, God does not love this girl in spite of her but because she is her (Beth Moore).

The girl breathes in and out as a tear slips down her face.
The reality presses in:

He looks.   He sees.   He cares.   He paid it all,
and He still embraces today.

All she must do is run to Him and accept His truths about
who
she
is.

Thus, she's enabled
to embrace the fact that it was never about her in the first place anyway
and to open her arms wide to embrace others with the love she has been shown.

Being found in Christ, she realizes that it is all about Christ, 
and she finds her sulking, self-centered misery turned to prayers of praise.

Her heart loses weight from being alone and is lightened by thankfulness.

She is loved by
Jesus - the One who sets free.

"Oh, I'm running to your arms
I'm running to your arms
The riches of your love
Will always be enough
Nothing compares to your embrace
Light of the world, forever reign"
(Hillsong Forever Reign)

 © 2013 Deborah Hope Shining
 

10:47pm

All the lights outside my room are turned off, and my bedroom's dark curtain is pulled shut.
The day has been enveloped by night's embrace. 

This exterior darkness surrounding me echoes the dark sea roaring loudly within.

Fear.  Frustration. Overwhelmedness.

Swirling around me, the thunderously crashing waves of many emotions, sensations, reflections, and regrets from what I encounter each day  - scholarships, colleges, tests, friends, beauty, transcripts, defeat, family, future, failing, popularity - all form one major, dark, chaotic sea inside of me that screams a million things at me in the same moment.

Each wave is a new surge of this battle God has called me to fight daily.

But every time I get out from under one wave, I get sucked under the next.
This time, the wave has a magnetic pull that is drawing me to its depths and holding me there, holding    me     there,                  holding             me          there ...

It feels like I'm in the same cycle of the same 'ole same 'ole.
The rush before a wave's arrival, the sharp cracking as it reaches me, and breathless incapacity as I am pulled down to the deepest parts.
Repeatedly.  Repeatedly.  Repeatedly.

I know, every time, the wave does not hold me down for so long that I drown; although at some points its as if I cannot breathe, I have a Saviour who always reaches me at the darkest moment in the current. 

But this time, I feel as if I've given Him enough time, 
as if I have patiently trusted for a long enough duration.

Alright, God, anytime now ...

How much longer can I survive beneath this current's immense weight and amid its deep darkness?  I cannot see anyplace ahead of me; I cannot work my way out on my own, and I cannot hear You coming to my rescue.  All I have to go on is hope, and all I have to live by is faith.  Yet, how long will my breath last, for I feel as if I am bursting already...

How much longer must I wait on you, Abba?

All the more my heart whispers that my wave is ridiculous, and I chastise myself for being stuck in this depth again.  Being trapped in this ocean of doom, experiencing small abates, yet being continuously sucked down again, I muse:
What a ridiculously silly cycle to be caught in.
For how many years has this torrent abused me? drowned out valuable things in my life? filled me instead with this unremitting, pressure?

However, the reality is, the wave being silly or not, I am still drowning.

This ocean is real to me.

"For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms" (Ephesians 6:12).

This fight I am in is real, and it's a battle for my freedom.
The battle lost, I can be engulfed in its darkness and drained of joy.  It is inviting me to give up fighting, to be swept away in its tide and embrace its ways, forsaking a pursuit of God.

Be discouraged.  Lose heart.  This cycle   will   never   end.

I'm loosing breath at the bottom of this wave.

"Yet I call this to mind, and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD's faithful love we do not perish, for His mercies never end.  They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness!  I say: the LORD is my portion, there I will put my hope in Him" (Lamentations 3:22-24).

Hope yet lives

My.  Saviour.  is.  alive

"Hungry, I come to You 
For I know You satisfy.
I am empty but I know 
Your love does not run dry.

So I wait for You.  So I wait for You.

I'm falling on my knees
Offering all of me
Jesus, You're all this heart
is living for"

(Joy Williams, Hungry Falling on My Knees)

Jesus Christ is greater than I am, I who must die to fleshly gain, comfort, and understanding.

How hungry am I willing to get?

How long am I willing to wait?

How blindly am I willing to endure?    

  All I will do for the sake of Christ.

"Jesus, You're all this heart is living for."

Here, holding my breath amidst darkness, I am waiting for You, Jesus, to save me.
You have a plan.  You know when the time is right.  You will not give me more than I can bear and will finish what You started in me.

I trust You, Lord, that once You have brought me to this wave's top, you will show me the light.  There, Lord, I can see that each wave is bringing me closer to shore, closer to a new season and a new adventure in You.

You will rescue me because You are good.  You are faithful.  You are all powerful.
You will not leave me in this darkness forever but will light the way ahead of me.

"Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?  Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him, my salvation and my God" (Psalm 42:5-6a).

Don't give up.
Don't give in.
Don't stop fighting.

Have faith.  Take heart.  Be of good courage.
In Christ we are able to do all things.
For Christ we must be willing to bear all things. 

 Jesus, You're all this heart is living for.


 © 2013 Deborah Hope Shining


Slavery.  It is brutal.  It wretches families apart and creates broken hearts.  It has caused mass destruction around and inside of people.  The thirteenth amendment helped abolish this practice; however, slavery, albeit in a different form,  still exists today.  Thousands of girls are sold as slaves into human trafficking each year and are forced to live a slave's life.  Below is a piece I wrote last year about thirteenth amendment slavery, but many of these feelings are still experienced by young girls daily.  May we pray for these girls in horrendous circumstances and be the change we wish to see in the world. (For more information on human trafficking, please visit "Take A Stand" blog at http://suguna11.blogspot.com/)

 .    .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

I am Tennessee. I have seen haughty arrogance and spiteful prejudice. I have seen the sharp, wild gleam of terror in eyes. I have heard the screams of anguish as families were being torn apart. I have felt the chilling despair of empty, black hopelessness.
I am a plantation. I have seen the backbreaking work that speeds up the aging process. I have heard the soul songs of deliverance from the heart of the persecuted. I have felt the solid words of hate and the burning hot crack of the whip on bare flesh.
I am the dwelling of a small slave family. I have seen the family’s careful, attentive lookout for each other’s safety.  I have heard the hushed, stoic discussion of pained parents by candlelight. I have felt the never ceasing yearning for freedom.
I am a cave. I see Destiny and Mathias, seven year old twins. The children talk hurriedly of their longings - longing for parents, longing for a bed, longing for enough food, and longing for secure normality.  The humor they once possessed so abundantly is evident no longer. I have too many times before seen fugitives and hunters, heard the hushed conversations of children who are children no longer, and felt both panic and pride.
I am a blade of grass. I see Travaris, an eighteen month old baby. I see his big eyes watching a nearby ant crawl up a stick. His eyes show a sense of thoughtful wonder, a wonder of the changes he is facing traveling by means of such secrecy and lack of playfulness to him – by means of the Underground Railroad. His eyes also show a hint of biting confusion and stinging sorrow, feelings which no baby should have to experience. I have often in the past seen grown men duck and lie still; I have heard the cry of a hidden baby. I have felt soothing words sung in reassurance.
I am a hidden cellar. I see Saidat, a sixteen year old forced to lead her siblings to freedom. She is penning a letter that she knows may never reach her dearest friend from birth whom she had to leave on the cold, harsh morning the day she ran with her siblings. She was not allowed to say goodbye for the fear that was evident in the hearts of all blacks planning emancipation for their loved ones. During these unjust times, I have repeatedly seen young men and women forced to be made strong. I have heard the prayers of the brokenhearted full of peaceful faith. I have felt the thick longing for friends torn away.
I am a wood. I see Tyron, a twelve year old boy standing stock still against the back of a tree. He is trying to breathe as quietly as possible; he is focusing all of his rock hard concentration and determination on this task of making himself invisible to the eyes nearby. This rock hard mentality once was used against his friends in mind games they used to play, and it was used to fire his endurance to beat them in a race. Alas, in the past I have frequently seen the stiff boots of vicious, hating bounty hunters and heard the crying out of the desperate, desperate to know joy once again. I have felt the fear of the hunted.
I am broken.
 © 2013 Deborah Hope Shining
Below is a piece I wrote after we had to put our dog down.  Any references to Dallas, then, are referring to our dog.

 


There's a gash in my heart
where something has been
torn away.

The wound is fresh, bleeding, pulsing,
aching.

"It's just too painful," my heart whispers.

A heavy sorrow dwells in my gash.
It will lay passively unless probed,
at which time it throbs in escalation.

I miss Dallas.

The force of my sorrow pushes tears to my eyes.

Dallie, girl ...

A weighty emptiness.  A fallen tear.  An ache in my chest.

There's a gash in my heart
where something has been 
torn away.

Yet, as I am laying in the grass
immersed in the shadows, I see 
the sun emerging.

Its rays touch my tear that has fallen to the ground,
and that effusion from my heart
glistens.

There is beauty in the pain.

The tear is transformed. 
Glistening from the sun,
it highlights the surface in a way that only water can.

Deeper vision is uncovered and
tiny details are discovered.

Once this light-catching tear has run its course down the stalk of grass,
it will reach the soil and soak deep into the roots.

This very token of heart-ache will create growth and thereby enable new heights.
It will cause new sprouts that will make the grass
more full
and
more beautiful.

A  heart is gashed.  A pain pulses.  A tear falls.

Yet, the sun rises still.

There is beauty in the broken.



 © 2013 Deborah Hope Shining

Hello! I would like to walk you through a battle that I fought in the past with insecurity and inadequacy.  Be encouraged, ladies, freedom is within your grasp because our God is the Faithful Deliverer.  You are not alone!



I am standing in front of my bedroom mirror.
In my full-blown examination attitude, I inspect myself from head to toe.
Frustration rises as each of my flaws are still boldly announcing their presence.
In this moment, one feeling engulfs me:
inadequacy.

I gaze at my face: my smile that I wish were bigger, my eyes that I wish were larger and rounder, and my forehead that I wish would shrink.  If only I could thin my face out ... I internally muse.

I see my body, a textbook definition of lanky.  Many times I concur that lanky - ungracefully thin and tall - is how I am.  In my words, I am awkwardly stretched out.  (I'm telling you, sometimes I wonder if I don't have an lost twin who is a pole ...).

As I am looking into the mirror, inadequacy reigns supreme.  

Inadequacy, my life's magistrate, dictatingly reaches much beyond my physical appearance alone.

It reaches past my feelings of being physically not "good enough" for people's notice and makes me wholly insecure, not confident or assured; uncertain and anxious.  In my un-confident state, I doubt whether the rest of me is "good enough" either.

Come to think of it, to my peers I probably come across quiet, boring, and dull.  I am just so weird and different from those my age around me.  There must be too many flaws in me.  If only I were prettier, louder, more flamboyant ...

I am looking in the mirror and feeling enormously inadequate and insecure in who I am.

Yet, then, in my heart, I hear a whisper: You are chosen.

This thought releases a sensation that courses through me in a rush of cool relief.  The thought of having someone want me and someone choose me because they see something good, valuable, and precious in me is powerfully inviting.

For, I am steeped in inadequacy and insecurity.

Yet, I know these very things need to be broken.

The words echo forcefully in me: You are chosen.  You are valued.  You are loved.

I am turning from the mirror and stepping away from my reflection.
Because this inadequate image that infuses me with insecurity is just that: a reflection.

It's not the real deal.

"For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.  Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known" (1 Corinthians 1:12).

A glimpse of reality awaits me in the scarred hands of my Saviour, Jesus.  He is the One who loves and values me so deeply that He suffered death on a cross; 
this was so I may be His.

He died that I may live and live life to the full, rid of inadequacy and insecurity  (John 10:10).

Yet, to live fully means  
to die to all fleshly pursuits and desires,
to be broken of pride, envy, and all that is sin and entraps me in inadequacy and insecurity,
 to throw off self-focus,
and to come to Him having all cast off and being dead, broken, surrendered, and open to His will.

Then, I receive life in the most joyful and energy-giving meaning of that word.

I am alive.

My inadequacy is transformed as I realize that, yes, I am weak, imperfect, and sinful, but

                                                                                                  it's not about me.

"But He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' ... For when I am weak, then I am strong" (2 Corinthians 12:9a,10b).

"I can do all things through Him who strengthens me" (Philippians 4:13).

With inadequacy transformed into a healthy dependence on Christ, I am freed.

My insecurity is transformed into my true identity, a daughter of the King of Kings who is hidden in Christ.

Strengthened.  Encouraged.  Hopeful.
Comforted.  Understood.  New.

I have life.
I am alive.

"Who am I, that the Lord of all the earth/ would care to know my name/ would care to feel my hurt?/ Who am I that the Bright and Morning Star/ would choose to light the way/ for my ever wandering heart?" Casting Crowns "Who am I"

So long inadequacy and insecurity.
I am wonderfully God dependent.
I am secure in who I am: Christ's.

So long reflection-obsession.

I am valued.  I am loved.
I am chosen. 



 © 2013 Deborah Hope Shining
 

I've been asking a lot of hard questions lately.

How do I impact the world for Christ and His Kingdom?
How do I become who God has created me to be?
What is the most effective way to  lead those I know into a deeper fellowship with God?
How do I get lasting good to come out of my life?
What is my purpose?
How do I live each day to its fullest potential?

I've got a lot of questions.
Sometimes, they wear me out and depress me. For, they remind me how I haven't been acutely focused and single-mindedly driven.  Oftentimes, I feel like my life is blurring by through all the "dailies" that I do from school and housework to church and babysitting.  I feel that I've been floating through life lackadaisically by just functioning through the blur and never taking the time to straighten my priorities and focus my goals.  Those questions reveal that I have been just functioning, not thriving. 

Further, those questions are hard.  I'm lazy. 

"Ahhh, I'll figure out my life's ultimate purpose, create my action plan for living each day fully, and start changing the world ... tomorrow.  'Cause all I really wanna do right now is go on Facebook ..."

All I wanna do.

When I look at teenagers and then back at my own self, I see a generation disgustingly shallow and selfish.  
"Ohhh that looks cool; let's try it!" we say.  
"Wow, that movie looks epic; we are so going to see it."  
"Humm, what should I wear today?  Wait, what is she gonna be wearing?"  

We care only about the next thing that gives us immediate pleasure.  Really searching our hearts and learning to serve and sacrifice are not priorities.

Instead, we're a generation of let's-look-cool & classy-and-go-party.  Because, after all, it is all about me looking cool and having fun.

YOLO, right?
(Come on, man.)

Drifting in such a manner day to day and simply floating by on what's happening - the latest look, sweetest movie, next get together - what are we accomplishing for eternity? ... zero.  We are consuming just about whatever brings us pleasure, and in turn producing what things that are biblically emphasized? ... (anything come to mind?)

That's what I thought.

We're a generation asleep.

Remaining drowsy in our shallow mind frame that is only concerned with being cool, being fun, and being known, we are missing our destiny.  Reclining in our car on the path of ease, we are being carried wherever the highway bends, and we are being molded by our laziness.

Yet, we are made to mold.
We are made for so much more.

As we sit, making sure our outfits are thoroughly hipster and laughing at "How Animals Eat Their Food" on YouTube, we are wasting a lifetime.

We're just drowsily drifting along,
having fun.

In reality, we are purposeless.

Yet, are we not created for so much more?  That epic movie, did it not evoke your desire to see a little more of that same epicness in your own life?  That book's characters, they made you want to chase those dreams of yours again despite crazy odds.  That YouTube video, it made you desire to create something that, being bigger than yourself, will span across the world.

But day after day, we do our school, sit on the couch, scan the internet while chatting friends, and take self-portraits to post to Facebook so everyone knows just how cool we are.  We find the cutest thing to pin on Pinterest and perfect our appearance so we are just totes adorbs.

Come on, man.

Shallow.  Self-centered.  Asleep.

"Awake, awake, O Zion, clothe yourself with strength.  Put on your garments of splendor, O Jerusalem, the holy city ... Shake off your dust; rise up, sit enthroned, O Jerusalem.  Free yourself from the chains on your neck, O captive Daughter of Zion" Isaiah 52:1-2

Awake, awake.
We are made for so much more than our current state.
We are God's chosen people who are called by His name, called to be holy, called to seek His face, and called to change the world.
 
Generation, it's time to wake up.

Life it ticking by.  
Opportunities are fading.  
People are graduating and moving away and, before you know it, you will be too.  
Your life will never be this exact way again.  

You have chance for good today.  You can ease a pain, share a smile, lend a hand, plant the hope.

But, you must decided to do it.

Effort.  Sacrifice.  Dedication.

You've got to decide what you're living for before the chance to live is gone.

Generation, it's time to wake up.

Make your stance and fight. 

The big questions are out there in this very big world.  
(But, we've got a God who is bigger than the world; in fact, He's overcome it).  
Let's face them.

I say no to our cultural drowsiness.  Frankly, I shout "no!"
We've got to tackle the hard things and face life head on, for, as children of God, we are created for a grander purpose.

"Awake, awake, O Zion, clothe yourself with strength.  Put on your garments of splendor, O Jerusalem, the holy city ... Shake off your dust; rise up, sit enthroned, O Jerusalem.  Free yourself from the chains on your neck, O captive Daughter of Zion" Isaiah 52:1-2

Generation, it's time to wake up.
Let's change the world.
Who's with me? 




 © 2013 Deborah Hope Shining



Those are my teal capris and cream shoes.

I had really wanted things similar to those for quite some time.  I had been keeping my eye out for a cute pair of capris that actually fit, and I had been glancing at ads to find a pair of shoes that really matched my taste.  Then, while shopping at Kohl's the other day, I spotted those teal capris chilling on the clearance rack and purchased them.  I then ordered my cream shoes at a nearby kiosk.  Twenty-six dollars later, I was walking out of the store contented.

Score.

My teal capris and cream shoes have been hanging out in my room these last few weeks.  When I catch a glimpse of them out of the corner of my eye, I smile.
That's something I need to do more often.

By no means am I a pessimist, though.  In fact, if you were to ask people who see me frequently if I appeared to be one, they would probably look at you as if you were from outer space and reply that they often see me joking, laughing, and smiling.  Their response would be partially true, too.  

I do joke.  I do laugh.  I do smile.  
But that is not my day in and day out attitude.

I am infected by what I call "sigh mentality" because, you see, I am an analyzer.  This trait has got me into quite the troubled state.  I analyze practically everything.  I analyze the ad on my kitchen counter, the cashier at the grocery store, and the teenagers at the mall.  More specifically, I analyze those I interact with.  I look at what people are wearing, what they are doing, how they are doing it, why they are doing it, and what that all means about them.  I do this almost subconsciously, almost constantly.

Let me tell you, it's exhausting.

Not only do I analyze my surroundings, but I analyze myself!  This is where things get the most painful.  I draw conclusions from my analysis of those around me and form a standard of how I should be.  I feel I know how I should stand, talk, interact, dress, and spend my time.  I analyze my clothes, actions, words, habits, body language, progress, success, failures etc.  If I don't measure up to my standard, (and I seriously hardly ever do), I become all things ugly - irritated, crabby, depressed, frustrated. 

 I look at life and see an endless list of to-dos and personal failures.  I live with the constancy of a subconscious flaw.  I could be having a fun time laughing with friends, yet at the same time I am not fully engaged because I am trying to look cool and am angry at myself because I am trying to look cool.  There's always a flaw chewing away at the back of my mind that makes me feel again like a failure and self-condemned.  If I were to throw off my weird standards, I know that then I could have tons of fun, life, and energy.  Unfortunately though, I am currently living halfhearted because of the flaw always in my mind.  I could be having lots of fun right now, but I am preoccupied by what they think about me and by trying to give a favorable image of myself.  I rarely go full in and wholeheartedly embrace life.  Instead, I am plagued by I might have fun, but . . .

I have boxed myself in.  My box is not constructed from wood, cardboard, or concrete though; the very walls that trap me in are composed of my own observations.  In between each piece are the feelings of condemnation from failing to live up to my standards and of fear of failing again. These self-condemning thoughts are such as:  If you do that again, you are being stupid.  You're wasting time.  You're dilly-dallying.  You're being lazy.  You're being selfish.  You will never get past this.  You failed again. You look like a bumbling idiot.  You are a bumbling idiot!  I sit, day in and day out, inside these walls.  I sit analyzing my every thought and action and condemning myself for my every thought and action because I didn't meet my standards.  I never satisfy myself.  My faults and failures are perpetually before me. You should have talked to that girl.  You should have spent less time worrying about school.  You shouldn't have wasted energy by being consumed by friends and their opinions of you.  Then you could've been productive and happy.  Then you would've been effective for God, joyful, and fun to be around.   But you didn't.  But you're not.  But your wasting your life.

I'm afraid, afraid to waste my life, afraid to mess up.
 Yet, I feel like I am wasting it and I am messing up.

Thus I sit in my box, condemning thoughts weighing me down and fear of failing again to measure up to my own standard keeping me constrained.
I look at the world and sigh.
Aye-yeigh-yeigh.
I need freedom.

In my quest for this freedom these last few weeks, I have been searching my heart and pouring everything inside it out to God nightly.  As I verbalize my internal thoughts and feelings to God on a daily basis, He, ever faithful, has been revealing truth to me.

He's revealed that I need to put on my teal capris and cream shoes stance.  This stance is a three part adventure I am embarking upon throughout April.  I'm breaking out of my box, my "self-box" in reality.  Inside of it, I am concerned with me - how well I am living life according to my analyzed based observations.  That means most waking thoughts are about me, pleasing myself, and that is not right.  

I'm breaking out of my box.

I've tried breaking out by other means before, and all I end up doing is condemning myself more.  But this time, I am breaking out through somebody else's power.

"I can do all things through Him who strengthens me" (Philippians 4:13).

The goal of my April adventure is finding that it's not about me and living accordingly.  That means I can stop worrying and being so consumed with my actions!  I don't need to worry about if I can get out this time and about what will happen to me if I don't.  For, I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer Deborah who lives but Christ through her.  The life I now live is by faith in the son of God (Galatians 2:20).  So, I live by faith as I live out the rest of my April adventure below.

#1) Keep my head up and smile
I am going to have an underlying sense of positivity.
Instead of having an underlying attitude of "there's always a flaw...," and taking life so seriously, I am going to get real to the truth that Jesus is the Victor and cheer up!  That gives me an underlying sense of assurance and hope because through His victory, I have personal victory.  Accordingly, I am going to hold my head up and do as Phillipians 4:4 says "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice."  After looking back at the Greek meaning of the word "rejoice," I found that to rejoice in this way means to be cheerful, i.e. calmly happy or well off.  This is the underlying positivity that I must have.  
I am calmly happy because I have victory.

#2) Renew my mind
Romans 12:2a "Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind"  I must "...destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ" (1 Corinthians 10:5).  Every analytical thought I have, I must strain through my filter: "...Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worth of praise, think about these things." (Philippians 4:8).  Every thought, if it is allowed to find a dwelling in my mind, must pass this test.  You will always be consumed by your failures.  True?  Uh-un.  "Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail." (Lamentations 3:22).  I disgust myself.  Lovely?  Definitely not to me!  I wish that girl would be excluded.  Honorable?  Yeah no!  Further, I must be proactively fill my mind with truth through the Bible, songs etc.

#3) Find joy
Philippians 4:6 "do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be  made known to God."  With thanksgiving.  After already asking God to do a work in me giving and giving my anxiousness to Him (because worrying is not commendable), I must find things to fill me up with thankful joy to my King.  I must seek the beauty even amidst the broken.  These pieces of joy that make me smile, laugh and praise God will replace my condemning and analyzing.

This is my April adventure.
I am stepping out of my box into Jesus's arms.
Trusting that He will not let me drift back into my "self-box" again,  I embrace Jesus, the Word, and all that He says.
I am calmly happy in my victory.
I am taking every thought captive.
I am discovering joy.

You don't have the strength to do this, Deborah.  That's right.  I don't.  But I know someone who does.
"I can do all things through him who gives me strength" (Philippians 4:13).

I can do this.  I will do this.  
I refuse to hold back any longer.  I am letting loose.  I am throwing off my chained up stance from this analyzing, and I am stepping out of my box.  I am taking a deep breath and jumping into life wholeheartedly.  I am releasing fear's tension and relaxing.  I am losing myself to Christ and unlocking a whole new world.  I am no longer acting according to my assessments, but from the heart.
Freedom.  Carefreeness.  Boldness.
I can do this.  I will do this.

Today, I am putting on my teal capris and cream shoes stance.

Because it's not about me.
It's all about my Savior.

I'm living all through Christ.

 © 2013 Deborah Hope Shining


God, I see her.

She is standing in the center of a group of teens flashing her perfect smile and casually flipping her perfect long, wavy brunette hair.  As her animated voice penetrates the air, she flounces over to a friend and her classy flats, skinny jeans, and adorable blouse seem to sparkle in the light.  Her bouncy personality is like a fragrance enveloping her.  A laugh bubbles through her perfectly glossed lips, and her glittering blue eyes amidst her perfectly makeuped face seem particularly intense.  She has captivated the group.  She is standing in the center.

But, she is captivatingly standing in the center of more than just a circle of people; she is standing in the center of what I could be and what my heart craves.

I, too, have brown hair.
I, too, have blue eyes.

By indulging my frivolousness - using that hair product, curling my locks, spending more time on makeup - by forgetting what I stand for and by ignoring Your still, small voice, God, I could invoke the same captivation.  By spending my hard earned money, I could create outfits that set a new standard of beautiful.  With me externally enhanced, I could adorn bubbly.  I know the talk, the glance, the laugh, the walk.  It is within my power.  With one choice I could become her.

No, I could become even more; I could surpass her.  I could be the idol to my idol.

Being thus completely captivating, I could fill some of my heart's cravings.  I would be noticed and paid attention to.  I would be valued and admired.  People would actually see me and my greatness, and I would be finally appreciated.  Hence, I would have satisfaction; I would have security.  Attaining this picture of bliss,  I could gain happiness and affection;  I could satiate my heart's cravings for joy and unconditional love.

God, I would be at the center and love it.

I want that.  My heart wants to burst from the vividness of my wishes.  My heart pounds as I am carried away in my mind to the place of admiration and captivation.  Yet, as I imagine myself at the center, I feel a tug at my heart and hear "You'd be at the center of what, Deborah?"  Two words pop into my head in answer: sIn and prIde.  Yet, I shake the thought off and think "But God! She doesn't seem to be a sinful, prideful grub!  Some adults even acclaim her!  Practically every girl I know wants to be her.  She's even a Christian, the model of a "good" girl.  She seems to be getting away with both worldly pleasure and the Christian life, a combination that I have to deny daily because of my convictions.  Yet, who is acclaimed by peers?  Not me, but her.  I could be that.  I could be more.  I could be known ..."  In the midst of these words deep from my heart packed with the power of all my pain and frustration, I am carried away again to the world where I am the idol.  I am angry because I know I cannot give into my dream but am reliving it all the same.  I crave admiration.  I crave satisfaction.  I long to be captivating.

With the thundering flood of my emotions pulsing through me, a thought drops into my mind and gushes into every corner of my consciousness.

Deborah, am I enough for you?

A heavy stillness in my heart and mind ensues as that question permeates me thoroughly.  God's voice continues.

What if I told you that you would never have giggling girls running to you and dotting on you? What if, at the mention of your name, no young men get excited and no girls immediately think of how they can mimic amazing you?  What if you never had the attention and admiration?  What if  no one ever knew you or if no one even cared to say hello?  What if you never were that girl?  

Would you be content with me alone? 

My mind is invaded with the thought of giving up the images of this love, admiration, and attention.  My desire for these images filled with laughter, groups of friends, and compliments overpower me, and I begin to cry.  What if I give up my desire to achieve them?  My grip is so tight, and they are so appealing.  Yet, through my struggle, the voice speaks on.

Will you be content with what I promise you? That I will never forsake you, that you have strength through me, that I love you, that if you lose your life for my sake only then will you gain it?

Will you be content with who I say you are?  That you are my royal daughter, that your sins are forgiven, that you are made new, and that you are my masterpiece?

Will you be content with what I say you should do?  That you should take up your cross and follow me, that you should be my hands and feet, that you are to be the last, the servant?

Will you be content with what I give you?  If I take away your health, your family, your money, and your friends or if I do not give you what you see fit?  Will you be content with me alone as your reward?

As the sobs shake my shoulders, the voice that had been escalating in force now reaches a climax and pounds into my heart and mind the question:

Deborah, am I enough for you?

The question is like a rock thrown into the pool of my mind and has a catastrophic moment followed by  ripples and a calm.  Crumbled on the floor with my mind ripples dying out, I hear only my sobbing turning into deep breaths.  My mind begins to refocus on truth.

I know I cannot stay desperately clinging to this longing for worldly fulfillment.  I must make my choice and give in fully to one of these two desires warring within me; I must give into Deborah on the throne of my heart or Jesus. I cannot keep living halfheartedly, giving half my heart to the world and half to You, God, because that only leaves me brokenhearted.  I cannot say that I am Your servant while I continually dwell on this sinful desire.  Indeed, I can never be full if I am never fully committed to anything, God.  I am capable of being more than torn and wishy washy;  I am capable of being fully alive.  Consumed.  Passionate.  Joyful. 


I know what I must do.

I take a very deep breath to keep the swell of emotions at bay as I verbally admit the truth that the world won't satisfy.  I don't feel this God.  I don't see it in the life of my idol.  

Deborah, what you see now is only a reflection.  One day you shall know fully (1 Corinthians 13:12)

Exhaling, I cry out "Oh God, I choose to believe that only You satisfy.  I acknowledge the lie of worldly fulfillment and trust that your plan and purpose for me is greater than any gloriousness I could conjure up on my own.  No matter what I feel, I will live accordingly.  Lord, I cling to You." 

Even as I say this, more truth comes to mind.  

"Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God?  Or am I trying to please people?  If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ." Galatians 1:10

"Do not love the world or anything in the world.  If anyone loves the world, love for the Father  is not in them. For everything in the world - the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life - comes not from the Father but from the world.  The world and its desires pass away, but whoever does the will of God lives forever." 1 John 2:15-17

I am Yours, Lord.

Here I am, Lord.  
You can have all of me.  

Take my whole heart - every fear, doubt, failure, desire, and dream. Take my distractedness and sinful desire for pleasure and applause.  Take my obsession with myself.  Take my idol.  I throw off everything that hinders me and the sin that so easily entangles; God, I will run with the perseverance the race has marked out for me (Hebrews 12:1). 

I am Yours, Lord.

I lay me down as a living sacrifice.

My identity is in You as Your servant.  
I choose to follow whatever comes after this Lord.  
Break me, cleanse me, purify me Lord, for everything I am is Yours.  
You are on my heart's throne, and I am never to take it back. 
No matter the pain, no matter the confusion, no matter what my logic says, I am Yours and will be about my Father's business.  
For I know in my heart that Your plan is greater and that You are greater.

Oh Holy One, I am Yours, obediently open to Your will as your wholehearted, faithful servant.  I will not look back and focus on what I lost.  I am thrown into Your work.

Father, not my will, but Yours be done. 

Here I am Lord.  I am Yours Lord.
No matter the cost.

Because You are enough for me.



 © 2013 Deborah Hope Shining
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Truth. 

Galatians 5:26 “We will not compare ourselves with each other as if one of us were better and another worse.  We have far more interesting things to do with our lives.  Each of us is original.” MSG
Psalm 119:37-38a “Take away my foolish desires, and let me find life by walking with you.  I am your servant!” CEV

2 Timothy 2:4 “No soldier gets entangled in civilian pursuits, since his aim is to please the one who enlisted him.” ESV
1 Corinthians 4:2 “The one thing required of such servants is that they be faithful to their master.” 
TEV
1 Corinthians 15:58a “Throw yourselves into the work of the Master” MSG

Here is a song called "Worth It All" by Meredith Andrews.  It speaks to the heart of what I just wrote about by telling of how everything we sacrifice in life is worth it all for Jesus.  Enjoy.




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Deborah Spooner is an analytical creative enamored by ideas and addicted to dripping words in candor. Serving as a Marketing Strategist for LifeWay’s Adults Ministry, she loves all things big-dreaming, difference-making, and Jesus-pointing. A pastor’s daughter with a background in communications and theology, you can find her at her local church with her students (and probably way too excited about the color yellow) as she seeks to know Christ more and make Him known.

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