I collected a Bobblehead in last month’s Dodger’s game and my mom let it out of its neck brace recently. Along with my unamused stare comes its creepy over sized head bobbling its same facial expression towards my direction. It’s a little more responsive than the virtual Siri, such as when I ask Mr. Karros, “Did you wet your pants when you were a child?” “When you were ten years old?” In its unoffended look, it bobbles its head back “Yes”. Yeah, that’s right Siri. Until you learn how to look at your peer in his or her eye while talking, you won’t earn my respect.
Years back, I also shook my head inspired to find out that the real Mr. Karros is Christian. So to get our relationship flowing on good terms, I asked its figure and heavy wood set, “When did you accept Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior?” Thinking that his memory is vague I asked the same-stanced Mr. Karros, “Do you having a loving relationship with the Lord?” He bobbles,”Yes”. While the conversation ends on strictly a “Yes or No” basis, I sit the doll on the edge of my table as I sit in my bed thinking in “Total Recall” – that my body is not carved wood, nor is my mind a mindless Bobblehead, and most importantly nor is my heart shaved callously within a doll-like structure.
In His image I was made; His Trinitarian composition defines who I am- that I was created within a people called Family and in a placed called Home for a thing called Love. I embody the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit and while I am not sufficient for Him to accept my praise and worship, He does so anyways because He knows elements of His glory will give me joy and peace. Lord, I am in a season of understanding that to receive your glory, I must give you glory- that I would display you as “the only reason I keep on coming home” – that I would display your glory through my thoughts and actions. The correct choices that I make do bring glory to your name- not as a means to get you to bobble your head with satisfaction or for a bobble of more blessings, but as a way for me to know that our relationship is loving and real.
Failure is part of my biography, but failure is not my identity. Even through my shortcomings- it’s the COMING to Christ action that is important when we fall SHORT. On July 2nd, I started fresh as a paralegal assistant- filling out forms and preparing documents that I have never seen before prior to that Monday; However, as of July 11th, I was let go; through minor errors and the presentation of imperfection I had to see my way out the door. While grasping onto unexpected news, I walked on Crenshaw choking on the tears of my brief learning experience. Reflecting at the nearest Tom N Tom’s for 30 minutes, I was bound for another spurt. I googled and found other law offices in the area, and set route to my next interview. After my interview, I stood in front of a huge office building and ventured to set my eyes on its directory. My conscience brandished me to the excitement of seeing a swarm of law offices listed on each floor. I used the elevator as my physical friend and the Holy Spirit as my spiritual friend- I was bright about my chances.
Walking through the corridors of life are hard, and failure is the experience of opening the wrong doors, but failure is the failure to let go of failure (I just had to say it). I could only imagine how hard it must be for those who don’t walk in His presence, and for those who let failure lure them in to the possibility of the unknown- that the Known is hidden by the lies and manipulative tales of the Unknown- that King Jesus wants to be Known in their lives, but the Undercover Devil is the Unknown that they navigate through their failures. Lord, my first scent of morning is not failure, and my last breath of night is not failure; failure is not my identity, it’s just history.
My life is an attentive ear; I hear God speak words of love to me, but I also listen to how much He loves the person standing in front of me. Before I knew the Lord, my life was a clouded ear- one that needed a quality Q-tip, a start for a Quest to delve into a true relationship with my one and only Creator. Since, my relationship with Him has created a clearer sound as to how I should treat my parents and peers. He gave me that Q-tip- advice that never fails to love.
With her head bundled in my right arm, we laid next to each other. She talked and I listened. My mom giddily told me that she received a surprising phone call. She was this caller’s first love, and I was the birth and creation of her real love, my father. However, it was a love that quickly dried- a love that was more imaginative than committed, yet I was the fish that came from that small pond. She repeated once again, “I was this caller’s first love”.
Sadness started to drip from my face. Gravity pushed my tears to the side of my temple. I thought, “If only she knew, that there is one caller who loves her more, who has tried harder to reach her than this man on the other line” If only, she knew that God was actually her first love; yet when I asked her she laughed saying, “I don’t know who”. I smiled back and replied, “God is your first love.”
Later she expressed that she needed MAC products- specifically NW20 Foundation, mascara, and light colored lipstick. We went online shopping together and to her delight, I was able to place the order. I pray that one day she will apply more than make-up- that she would apply God’s word of love on her skin that would embed in her heart.