Am I ever moving with the Spirit? Today I lost it with my children and feel a failure. A good cry doesn't seem to help, but at least ends it with fatigue. I did manage to play the piano amidst the weeping and miserably sang praises. That's got to count for something. But I don't feel praise rising, I am forcing syllables out of my lungs. Is this the best life has? I want to run off and stop being a parent and a wife. I want to retreat and experience life without relationship conflict. I am tired. How is knowing I am loved unreservedly meeting any need in my life right now. Really? Yes, He loves me. So what? It's not helping me be a better mother at the moment. It has no effect on me at all... or so it seems. I need to see what Jesus sees.. I am blind and dumb.

Cadajavi. It is an invented word that describes, in one way, who I am, or perhaps, who I am not.

I am Ca. I existed independently for 29 years, but find it hard to remember what it was like to be without dajavi. I remember what I sought and who I saw myself to be. Learner. Driven. Athlete. Academic. Student. Traveler. Adventurer. Reader. God-chaser. Musician, singer and composer. Lover of nature and the outdoors. I lived life to the full for 11 adult years, following personal passions, seeking adventure, and training myself to follow God. I had expectations for an uncommon, prodigious, and satisfying life full of success.

Da came with little warning in a sudden engagement and marriage. Hardly knowing one another we joined and became one.. or at least tried to become one. I'm not sure I understand yet what oneness means in a marriage relationship. An argument could be made that in order to become one, I had to lose half of myself. But logic would demand that I was still whole and I had gained.... but the math is a bit difficult. Regardless, I no longer identified myself the same way. I was no longer just Ca, I was Da's wife, and Da himself was a bit of a complicated mess I couldn't wrap my head around. We did not share the same values or passions, although I tried my best to give him mine. Eventually the differences between us,(Outdoors vs indoors. Active vs sedentary. Adventurous vs hesitant. Learner vs play-er. Driven vs unmotivated) shaped me into something different, without my consent or even awareness of it. Twenty years with Da, going through these difficult give and take maneuvers has mixed me up quite a bit, revealing even more of who I am or have become. Controller. Manipulator. Withdrawer. Whiner. Improver. Teacher. Pusher. I am so much more common than I imagined and the prodigious, satisfying life has not been revealed, adding disappointment to the mix.

Ja and Vi joined this name 7 and 9 years into the marriage confusion. Identity fast became Mother, milk supplier, awake-at-all timer, rocker and comforter. From there it moved on, as it does for all mothers into organizer, playmate, and discipliner.  As they grow, more of me is revealed. Authoritarian. Yeller. Lecturer. Supervisor. Go-to-er-for-all-things. Lost item Finder. Educator. Food provider. Sit-&-wait-er. There are a multitude of things I am for these two. They are so much a part of me, in all their likeness and unlikeness. Twenty-four hours a day with them for 12 years or so has made us all into a little bit, well perhaps a large bit, of a messy, relational organism that is difficult to describe in parts, and difficult to manage each day. Those expectations I had for an uncommon, prodigious, and satisfying life full of success? I feel they have passed me by. I do cherish similar hopes for my children.

Which brings me to the point of the name, Cadajavi. As much as I try to define myself and who I am, I find I cannot separate myself from the others. I will never be, just me again.. I will never make another choice that doesn't take these people into account. When I want to know myself, I must be defined by the other three. Truth be told, I am engaged in an identity crisis. Trying to know myself better so that I can move forward. Attempting to rediscover passions only to find that they are no longer part of me. Seeking to define what parts of me are important to who I am, and what was never really me in the first place. It is a paradox that I can be me, yet not a definable me. What was true yesterday may not be true today, or tomorrow because the others are changing too. It must be another of the many paradoxes that exist in the Kingdom: the part exists, but it cannot exist without the whole. I am a whole part, but only part of the whole and life can't be defined in part, only the whole.

Cadajavi. Who am I really.. ?

The gift of dance

The gift of dance

I have always danced. It is part of who I am. I remember watching my older sister whirl and jump to her music in the basement and I had to join in. Then it became my thing, I would retreat to the basement and delight myself in the music and the moving of my body. Nightclubs followed and I would invariably show off, because I knew I was worth watching. When I began to trust that Father had something more for me and left that lifestyle, the gift of dancing became private. I had a large, hardwood floor in a suite where I would spin and twirl to worship music. I have since referred to this time as my honeymoon with Jesus, it was divine.  I did not understand it at the time, but there was power within the dance that transformed the atmosphere and me. Twenty some years later dance continues to transform me. It is in the worship dance that I continue to learn the subtle leading of the Spirit. When I dance I often just follow the flow of what my body is doing, not knowing what I will do, just doing it. But more and more I am receiving impressions that might say: ‘spin’, ‘be graceful’, or even ‘go wild’. Or the impression may direct me to kneel, lay down or wave fabric over a certain person.  All of this is wonderful by itself; I enjoy it and others are blessed. But Father has more gifts for me. My day to day life of parenting, keeping house and serving others has been slowly transformed; I am being led by the Spirit in a new way. I am more confident and more reckless in my obedience to such ‘vague’ impressions and words. It is a source of joy to me because years ago I longed for such communication and did not trust it. The Lord of the dance has transformed our intimacy and taught me simple trust and faith in His leading.  I could not have dreamed up a better use for the gift He gave me.

What my heart looks like

What my heart looks like

"What does my heart look like? That was the question that began a continuous conversation between Holy Spirit and I. It was beautiful... but it was vacant. The picture I received was of a single room; a ballroom in an European castle. It had ornate, gilded pillars with carvings at the top surrounding an immense hardwood floor. On two sides I could see the surrounding woods and distant ocean through massive windows; but the other walls were naked and it was vacant of furnishings or warmth. This is my heart.... As I pondered this I remembered that nothing is unchangeable, perhaps I could move in a couch to make it more welcoming. I asked permission and brought in a green velvet, overstuffed couch with old wooden carvings on the armrests. It was far too small for the room, but it was my start. I then invited Jesus to sit with me and thus began our conversations in my heart.