My Match

   I will have met my match when I meet my Mr. Knightly. Someone who is right most of the time, and wins arguments graciously. 

   He admires my spirit, and humors my whims. He is my best friend, loves to talk, know, and be known to me. 

   My match is skilled at many things; a renaissance man, and enjoys using his gifts to help others. 

   He loves children. 

   My Mr. Knightly is pragmatic and straightforward with his communication, and reserves his poetry for me. 

   He makes wise decisions with everyone in mind; me at the forefront. 

   He's discerning. 

   Loves Jesus. 

   Loves me. 

   ...Is handy around the house. 

"My Testimony, Of Sorts"

I have not always been kind. I have not always been a people lover. My parents, and those who love me assure me regularly, that I have always been a loving and compassionate, deep soul, but I know my heart. They tell me stories about how my first words were "please" and "thank you", how I preferred salad and water over junk food and pop, how I always played nurse to the sick family member, and stood up to the bus stop bully when others would not. Yeah...hmmm.

I was baptized by my Grandpa, David Taylor, at the age of seven. My brother, Cole, and I were baptized at the same time, and the whole family was there to witness it. I wore a bikini that was too tight for my healthy, little girl body. Mom made me wear a t-shirt over it, but I still felt hot, which was important for "sexy-baby-Shelby", since all eyes were going to be on me. I remember deeply caring about the day; what Cole and I were committing to. I remember, the night before, Grandpa Taylor sat us down at our cousins' house, and drew out stick figures of us on one side of a ravine, Jesus on the other, and our sins flooding the ravine, separating us from him. Grandpa, then, drew a cross, bridging the gap between me, Cole, and Christ. This was big; what we were doing the next day was big. 

I love water. I love to swim; I am a mermaid. Yes, I was getting baptized, and that was very important to me, but put me in a pool of water, in the middle of winter, wearing my "sexy-baby-Shelby" bikini, and I'm elsewhere. I remember taking the whole process very seriously, we took turns getting baptized by Grandpa Taylor, we prayed, it was over. I did well...and then I swam. And that's what everyone remembers; that's the story my Grandpa would tell everyone about his granddaughter! That in all his years of ministry, I was the only one to swim out of the baptismal! 

I do like that story. But it's difficult when your friend's testimony sounds like some supernatural thriller, or your mom's was full of longing, mystery, and love- a still, small voice kind of story. I swam out of the baptismal and gave my Grandpa a good, hearty laugh. I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior that day. I repented of my sins, and committed to live a life that would glorify him that day. Yes. And I've rededicated my life to Christ a couple of times since! At an Acquire the Fire conference, I'm sure, and when Billy Graham spoke at Arrowhead Stadium, I remember doing it then. 

Back to my first thought. I have not always been kind or loving to people. Well, to be honest, I have not always known Jesus. My spirituality has been my own since...ever. I was raised in a Christian home, with a PK for a father, and a spiritual, passionate, new believer, with Catholic roots for a mother. We all had our own spirituality and language for it, and they would intersect occasionally at home and at church. But it was my own, and I liked it that way most of the time. I'd get frustrated and impatient when my family tried to make spirituality, as a family, "a thing"; something I regret now, because I see it is very important. Must have been my hormones...

I was(am) very proud and stubborn. I had my relationship with God, and that was separate from everything else. I could love the Lord, and treat my brother so, so poorly. I could read my bible, and disrespect my mom. I could sing worship songs in the front row at church, and cause my dad to resent me at home. Not okay. It wasn't until high school that I really saw my hypocrisy-my humanity, and came to know Christ. 

In fact, I have the oddest confession: up until about the age of seventeen, it was the most awkward, painful thing to speak the name of Jesus Christ. Talk about some spiritual warfare/baggage! Before that, I would only say/pray to God/Father in Heaven/Lord; never Jesus. How could I talk to or about someone I hardly knew? The thought frightened me, and threatened my pride and my ego. Woof. I knew the Father. I had a great example of a father's love here on earth; I get him. The Holy Spirit? Mind you, my mother's background was very much so Italian-Catholic mysticism, so having the Holy Spirit dwelling within me, communicating with the Father, and leading me-totally up my alley. But Jesus? Jesus, you are Lord, and you are the standard, and you are my Savior, and you are man, and you were dead, and now you're alive, interceding for me at the right hand of the Father, and you're coming again. And you love me. And you're epic, but you're a man with scars on your hands and feet. You're glorious, holy, and magnificent...and humble. What. Jesus Jesus Jesus. I love you. 

Seriously, surrendering that stronghold, and truly seeking out this man named Christ Jesus; truly fixing my gaze on him changed my life. - Changes my life. He's transformed my heart. Maybe I always had manners, but I didn't always have Christ, and I feel unburdened by knowing and delighting in his goodness and power. 

I swam out of a baptismal, so I am claiming child-like faith. But I also recognize the sweet sound of Amazing Grace. I feel it more and more, and I am so in awe of my Jesus; all that I can comprehend, and all I can't even begin to fathom. 

My Voice.

I'd say something I'm independently working on is not being fearful of  my voice; the sounds it makes, how seemingly wild and unpredictable it can be. I have been afraid to sing aloud for many years because I've felt just...I guess not good enough. But in the past few months, I have come to really enjoy the sound of my voice. So, I'm going to practice sharing where I'm at with others. Vulnerability. It's all a process, for sure. These songs are ones I've decided I'd like to work on within the next couple of weeks. So...we'll see. Here we go!

Diva's Lament 

   

        I Had Myself a True Love

                   I am Woman.                    

                 - Maya Angelou

    Well, I guess I'm a woman. Time has decided that for me, and I feel very blessed and fortunate because of this. Actually, I feel like a child; panicked, anxious, unprepared, ungrateful at times, fearful of what's to come. We all have our moments, but lately, I've been living in mine. 

    This-this is a beautiful piece of verse by a truly phenomenal woman. I'm going to borrow it; this is now my mantra. I know and know of some outstanding women, who could say this without blinking, or should be able to rather, and maybe that's why I am hesitant to join the ranks, but here I am. I speak this over my life. I speak this over my life because...when I make a list of the lies I believe about myself versus what Jesus knows to be true about me, where does this statement fall? Under truths. - By the grace of God I am made new- "I am a woman phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, that's me."

    Our lives have a storybook quality to them(probably because we're apart of the greatest story ever). But think about it- we're all created with a specialness, different character traits, fates, purposes... We will each have different adventures, tasks, endeavors. Our lives will intersect with other various characters and make an impact on their lives. We were all intentionally designed for a purpose-we all have roles in this story. And what a crying shame when I misinterpret my role; when I don't understand how my character is developing.

    I can tell you this: my role will not be waylaid by any lulls, mishaps, heartaches, or misfortunes life has to offer! That WOULD be childish. The role I am embracing and speaking over my life is one given to me by my Creator: a phenomenal woman, that's me.

"Oh, you're an actor..."

I have always had a hard time communicating with people. I never know how to share my heart with others. It’s as if my whole life is a junior high missions’ trip to Mexico, and I don’t know a word of Spanish. I struggle with the knowledge that I have something so special to share, and no way to tell it. Sometimes I can only express myself through sounds, movements, or facial expressions. Rarely can I find the words I desperately search for.

     I have found that the theatre is a great medium for communication; a type of translator, if you will, that aids me in sharing a part of myself with other humans.  My ultimate delight is when I play a role I identify with. I portray someone who has had their heartbroken, harbors guilt or ill-will towards another, is overjoyed, or in love, and I’m saying to the audience, “I have felt this way! Have you?”

My whole being desires to reach out to people; to communicate. We humans were created to do so. We were created to be in fellowship with one another. Actually, we were created to be in fellowship with our Creator. I have no doubt that being an actress relates to my soul’s search to recover glory. I am imitating my creator, and wanting the same relationship with others He wants from us. Intimacy. The arts create intimacy.

No doubt I could do something else with my life. I have always cared about justice, children, the impoverished, and downtrodden. I could easily seek out another outlet. I love the miracle of life, and will sacrifice and suffer to preserve its sanctity. I could become a social worker, doctor, or midwife. I could be a foster parent, and mother a tribe of children; I most likely will! But I cannot escape the arts. I and the arts will never be separate from one another.

I am not just drawn or called to the arts. Words like drawn and called may sound lovely, like it’s not by my own strength or will, but those words imply I was once without art. They suggest that God had to do an altar call to get me down the aisle, when really I had the desire to be there all along. Like my Father in Heaven, I was born to create. I am so invested in creation, I can’t escape it. I cannot help but use the imagery of a working heart, with veins pumping blood throughout the body. Like those veins assisting the heart, I am too invested in a good thing to quit.

I was raised surrounded by beauty. My parents are artists as well, so everything always came back to art. I relate to my family through the arts, all of us having a great spiritual bond through beauty and our understanding of God’s glory for us. My relationship with Jesus, God the Father, and the Holy Spirit have much to do with the arts. It is my way of imitating my Creator, worshipping my Father, working with the Spirit, and being with Jesus. I have to point out that the Creator of the universe loved me enough to die for me, and sent His Holy Spirit to dwell within me. He is invested in me, His creation, so it is no wonder I have inherited His love to create.

I am an artist because… I see glimpses of eternity through creation. I love the constant reminder to have hope for Glory and the Joy of the Lord. 

Royalty! Aslan! Travel! Adventure!

Dear friends, 
I have been inspired lately by God's desire to give us purpose- good stories. I have been reading the Old Testament in my Biblical literature class, and I am in awe of time and how it absorbs us until we lack faith. God has plans for every single person on this earth...I wonder what happens when we grow cowardly and refuse the Lord's task. God uses the faithful, those who persevere through time, fog, and the mire. We were all born to reclaim humanity and seek to have our glory restored; born for a true adventure, a task. What would have happened had Frodo felt no responsibility towards mankind? What if Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy denied being sons of Adam and daughters of Eve-Human? No story. And to think, people aren't living their stories because they are too rushed to consider what their story was originally intended to be. Maybe they feel unworthy. Maybe they are ashamed of their old story; can't accept the new, and have hushed the still, small voice calling them to purpose. I don't know. I just can't shake what I envision just overseas, as if attainable here on earth...someday: Me riding lions with fellow tribesmen to other kingdoms across the great land, governing the world, maintaining peace. Being stewards of the land, and having fellowship once more with our Creator. I see it. That is my heart song! What does our glory look like here on earth? What is our purpose now? What is our story? I'm certain we were written as an epic.