Michael Flatley's Love Child

I'm dancing a jig right now, wearing green, drinking Guinness, and rooting for Notre Dame.  I really and truly do love ALL things Irish.  This passionate and senseless devotion is rooted in absolutely nothing.  I am not Irish.  I don't have any allegiance to anything Irish- school, sport, or person.  And yet I will get in a knife fight to the death, in a dark alley, defending any of my fair-skinned comrades.  Maybe it all goes back to Lucky Charms.  I'm really not sure.  All I can say is I AM LORD OF THE  DANCE. 

All kidding aside, I am semi-dead-serious.  I eat, sleep, and breathe the Dance.  Michael Flatley is my hero and I want him to carry my love child.  Presently, if not for the restraining order, that would be one of the first things checked off on my bucket list:  17.  Have Michael Flatley's love child.  Once upon a time, in my younger years, I think I was actually scouted for a role in Lord of the Dance.  I don't want to brag, and I am not sure it was a leading role or anything, but it was kind of a big deal.  And to be clear, I am not entirely sure I WAS scouted, but you could imagine if I was right?  And by all that I mean that I was not scouted and all, but, did in fact attend a production of Riverdance and wore my own Rachel brand of riverdance shoes with my formal attire.  You just never know when you might find yourself sitting watching, clapping, singing, crying (yes I said singing,) along to Micheal's beautiful display of musical, dancing prowess (I thought the crying might have escaped you, but yes, I said crying,) when lo, and behold, SNIPED, you have been ambushed.  There is a scout in the audience and he or she is looking for new, raw, young, REAL talent to join the troupe.  And because of that incredibly unlikely and obviously not possible, yet all too real scenario, I did indeed sit amongst the commoners attending the show, only to be caught at a moment's notice dancing my heart out there in my seat, my feet but a mere appendage with a mind and rhythm all their own. 

Whether it's been preparing for my debut, or simply exhibitioning my skills as a riverdancer in small productions in my apartment or in the hallway of an adjoining dorm, possibly jigging it up with all my heart 100% sober through an Irish pub (purely hypothetical) I have always felt and lived the music.  I think I am Irish.  I wish I was Irish.  Maybe I am Irish.  All I know is I vehemently support and cheer for Notre Dame and I know nothing about them.  I actually drove to the campus one time on a spur of the moment several hour road trip with my BFF who shall remain nameless because I don't want Susan's name dragged through the mud...she is about to get married and she has a lot going on, the least of which is defending her choices to drive 6 hours to an Irish college campus, just to look at it and walk through the chapel because of my love for the Irish. 

Green is my favorite color.  I used to draw freckles all over my face and wish for red hair.  I love Lucky Charms.  I think there really is gold at the end of the rainbow and that leprechauns are not only real, but representative of my homeland.  One day I will return to the motherland, and by that, I mean I am actually a native of Michigan and not only wasn't born in Ireland, but have never been even close to visiting, yet one day I WILL return.  You do the math on that.  I don't know what else to say so I'm peacing out because I am annoying myself.  Please disregard all of the above. 

Speaking the Truth in Love

I have had a couple different opportunities recently to either sweetly smile with a listening ear to a friend, seemingly in agreement, or to speak the truth in love, though difficult to hear.  Both situations were incredibly difficult to navigate through, regardless of the approach I chose to take, making it all the more necessary for me to use raw, unabashed, real-friend honesty.  Each was and is a friend going through a heartache in life I have never experienced myself and yet, hurt with/for, cried for, and yearned for them, so badly wanting their hurts healed and prayers answered. 

I call them opportunities, although at the time they happen, they feel more like an elephant sitting on your chest, weighing you down, making it nearly impossible to breathe, giving you heart palpitations, clammy palms, and sweaty armpits.  It sometimes is such a difficult task to say something to a friend that might sting a little or that they may not want to hear, simply because it is the truth and the right thing to do.  However,  that is precisely what they are:  opportunities.  And that is exactly what we are to do:  speak the truth IN LOVE.  For some only God knows reason, (and I am deadly serious because only HE knows the reason HE burdened gifted me with the uncanny knack for speaking the truth in tough situations)I am continually placed in situations where it would be oh so easy to let some things slide, rather than speak up, and yet HE continues to sit on my chest pushing the air out, until I give in and speak(and yes Lord, I just insinuated you were the elephant I was talking about earlier, but I meant it in the most flattering way..jk...but seriously...I am serious though God, you DO sometimes feel like an elephant sitting on my chest...but also I am kidding a little...but you did make me in your image as a jokester, a truthful jokester at that, so yes, I AM kidding, but yes I AM telling the truth, jk...but seriously, I AM.) even when it feels so uncomfortable and hard to do so. 

I have never just jumped for joy at the chance to say something contrary or confrontational (although I like to kid around with friends and family and instigate for sure)a hard pill to swallow, and yet time after time God places me in these situations.  And How? you might ask, do I know I'm not just perpetuating the cycle myself by say, instigating with said friends and family?  And I will tell you How.  How I know this, is because my entire life thus far, at the ripe age of 31, I repeatedly get phone calls from different friends or family members, confessing, confiding, or asking for counsel.  Each person always wants to know, "What do you think?" or "What am I supposed to do?"  There you have it folks, no easier way to corner a girl that has permanently taken truth serum, than to not give her a way out by asking her a point blank question.  Thank you Lord for that.  Both the truth serum and the cornering I mean.  I guess the point of all this is this:  it's hard, hard, hard as crap sometimes to speak the truth of Christ and HIS principles to a world that doesn't believe HE is the answer or that HIS principles apply to them, and many times, a million times harder to speak that same truth to your fellow believer who supposedly does believe.  And YET....we need to do just that.  There are times for everything..times for quietly listening because maybe it's not her time yet to hear and God hasn't told you to do so, times for nodding in agreement, and times for speaking up.  Whatever the time it is for you right now, if you are about to get your phone call, will you give in to the elephant sitting on your chest and do what HE asks?