Grass, straw hats, and lemonade.

The winter chill has settled in her bones.
No drink or aliment will warm her.
Only thoughts of future sunny days...

She pictures herself in the hammock of their back yard.
The aroma of mid-May fresh cut grass drifts by their noses as they laze in the sun with their lemonade and iced tea.
If they're not careful, the cool breeze will blow their pages past their present reading.

She dreams about the Summer, the beach, the big straw hat she doesn't yet own.
The big beach blanket that will form her shape when she invites the sun to soak in.
And the water...the water that will cool the heat, the water that will toss and turn her till she's positively tired.

She imagines a warm September evening when the sky is painting its daily masterpiece.
Both in each others arms, while basking in their own favorite stories on their porch swing.
For it's the comfort, peace and accord she waits to feel when one can lay in another's arms and enjoy them. No talking, just reading.

She enjoys the summer in the winter.
She sees it better by closing her eyes.
She waits for it, for it's in that moment that she loves the summer.

The Well Known Chapter 4

Chapter 4 has made me inspired to write and to choreograph, both of which I haven't done in a while, and writing is something I don't feel I necessarily do well, I just like to write sometimes.

I picture a girl that comes up to his knees

She's in a white dress, holding a bouquet of silk flowers, wearing a white veil...waiting...

Wanting to be told she was beautiful and worth waiting for.

I picture a girl trying to capture his attention

She's in a red sequenced leotard that has the slightest tutu with ruffles and tulle, 

twirling and spinning, leaping and longing...

Longing to be told she was graceful and lovely.

I picture a girl who hides underneath the table.

She grips the chair in fear and stays still, afraid she'll be found...

The violent yelling and use of words doesn't make her want to be sought after...she wonders what her mother had done to deserve the harsh and frightening affliction.

I picture a girl who is in her teens, who starts to believe she wasn't worth his time. 

To her, he didn't think she was worth loving. Who could believe otherwise when those three words had never been uttered from his mouth?

She has given up after this last time of pleading for his presence at her performance and failing. He went out of his way to not be there.

I picture a young lady, trying to find herself though all the negativity shoved in her face.

The unrequited intimacy became so great that she was desperate for any kind of affection.

She was driven to whatever she could get, and eventually believed that degenerate, horrid men were all that she deserved and could possibly acquire.

I picture a young women who's just walked out of the eye of the storm. 

She's a bit tattered and bruised, but she's still alive, and surprisingly still holding on.

She learned that through this storm, she was forced into the hands of her Father and He drowned her in His love. 

She was finally able to see the clouds clearing, while the Son engulfed her. 

This women has learned that all things come to pass for a reason. That her hurt could somehow comfort and relate to someone else's. That the forceful storm might have tossed and turned her, but it released her into the arms of the One that could love her the best through it all.

This book (Captivating) tells us that fallen men seem to become one of two things; either driven and violent or silent and passive. My father was all of those things. He was present verbally and sometimes physically abusive when he felt he had to be, yet he was passive and absent in every other way; he fancied the company and characters that the tv offered him that his family obviously could not provide.

Even though I know that my true Father cherishes and treasures me, I can still see that little girl...the one who wanted to see her father as her knight in shinning armor, to know that he was strong and there for her to protect her always. The biggest heartbreak this girl has known was not the recurring story in her life of the boy she loved who chose the other girl over her. No, it was the one where her father never told her she was strong, beautiful, confident and loved.

I might seem that I have it all together.

Who does?

I know my Father loves me, I know my place in Him...yet I too, still ask those questions...

Am I lovely?

Am I captivating?

Will there be a man who one day, can see past my need to please everyone? To be perfect, to be pleasant and happy and funny all time. One who can see to the very core of my soul and not run away after seeing the damage that's been done to my heart? 

I still know One who continues to relish in me, through all of my faults. 

For now and forever, that will always be enough.