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God peels me like an onion, one layer at a time. He does this in his great mercy. For if he chopped right through, the tear-invoking transparency would prove too painful, pungent, messy. He examines an outer peel and then another deeper, bringing each to my awareness in its own time. Carefully measured, scored, then added to his percolating soup of life, enhancing its savor, adapting my palate to become more like his palate. God is a mystery and deals with me in peculiar ways.
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Instead of coziness and festivity, my holiday season brought cold, hard challenges. A sudden death, (a tribute to my precious mother can be viewed at the following link: http://laconnerweeklynews.com/main.asp?SectionID=7&SubSectionID=33&ArticleID=1559&TM=41702.54), unforeseen travel and expenses, illnesses in the family leading to hospital stays, a long term writing/work project I’d invested in unexpectedly terminated… Long story short, in the span of a month it felt like undergoing a series of swift firm stomach punches. Stress finally knocked me off my feet with vertigo, and I was reeling adrift, like a storm-tossed vessel desperately in need of recovery. Strangely enough, vertigo, although an awful sensation, was a blessing. It forced me to keep still, and through it I heard God’s voice through the currents of commotion. He addressed a particular scripture. “He who was seated on the throne said, ‘I am making everything new!’ Then he said, ‘Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.’" (Revelation 21:5). Realization smacked me that I’m in a time of transformation. So, too, those nearest me with altering decisions yet to be made. The words of Vladimir Nabokov have come to mind. “Transformation… Transformation is a marvelous thing. I am thinking especially of the transformation of butterflies. Though wonderful to watch, transformation…is not a particularly pleasant process for the subject involved.” For me, the New Year came in not with a jubilant bang but a hushed dawning. The following writer expressed a sentiment better than could I:  So, as 2018 wraps around you, may you embrace each day. Find something to be grateful for each morning as you rise to face the trials life brings. Troubles are a part of our existence. They will always come and go. But with intention, sometimes just by donning in a moment a humble spirit of thanksgiving, we can endure and expand hope to greater proportions.
With love, Tessa  Wouldn’t it be neat whenever we sense a need for renovation to do a flip? I’m not speaking in terms of real estate. Sometimes I think I’d like to trade any bad, static experiences in life for good, seeking a fresh perspective. A few words sweep into my mind for how to get there. “…be transformed by the renewing of your mind,” (Romans 12:2) and, “…in all things God works for the good of those who love him,” (Romans 8:28). The motivation of flipping negatives for positives rather than flipping out holds a more promising outcome, for sure. On the other hand, the ability to appreciate the good things is oft times amplified by having encountered the bad. Yin and yang, as many would say. #iamonlyhuman  “Break the ballerina,” I have deliberated. I want to be reconstructed, transformed into another kind of dancer – that of flamenco. I want to learn, I want to be of that world. Flamenco is something that has always drawn my attention, yet I've never had ample time or opportunity to pursue studying it—and unless you’re born into it flamenco is a type of study. It’s like learning a new language, a new culture. Serious students only, for flamenco is far too complex and challenging for the easy going. In many ways, I find flamenco more difficult than ballet or any other form of dance I've carried out. It requires absolute immersion physically, mentally, and spiritually. I don’t know whether it’s where I am in life today or if the timing is suddenly just ripe, but I am shifting things around to make room to absorb and to learn, to train. I can tell in my heart of hearts that there is no turning back for me. I've caught the “flamenco bug” and I’m in the midst of a new and lasting love affair. Currently, I am dancing with Pasión Flamenca under the direction of Lucia Andronescu. A good fit for me in both style and method, I am receiving superb technique training along with continual performance experience. I began this particular journey about two months ago.
One day, I will look back at the progression, my metamorphosis from one kind of dancer into another. Flamenco is truth by fire, a matchless, mystical pilgrimage that, in a strange way, provides a sense of balance for this spiritually attuned dancer/novelist.
While driving home yesterday, I caught a glimpse of a bumper sticker on a passing car. “Not all who wander are lost.” I’d read it before, somewhere, and I liked what it evoked. A transitional time in just about every avenue I walk, it’s been about a year since I’ve had a home congregation that’s right on the whole. For the first time in my life I’m devoid of a support group. It’s important to be a part of a body of believers who help keep you accountable. Having said that, in my wandering I’ve never felt as close to God as I do now. In losing myself completely I’ve found Him. I should have known where the quote came from, the wise and introspective J.R.R. Tolkien. “All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost; the old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, a light from the shadows shall spring; renewed shall be blade that was broken, the crownless again shall be king.”
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TESSA STOCKTON, AUTHOR -
Pressing through life, love, a few things that matter, and a lot of things that don't.
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