My Brain Feels Like…

My Brain Feels Like…

I’m currently writing about poems I’ve been writing during this time, a series of prompts called “Pieces in the Pause” by Indelible Ink Writers. To see more, see this post.

April 17th was supposed to be my little sister’s first formal, but (surprise, surprise) it was at postponed until June. The next day, we were to go to a For King & Country concert with our church family, but that too was cancelled. In light of all the cancellations and disappointments, I suggested we have our own formal that Friday night instead of letting the circumstances weigh us down.

So we did just that.


Andrew brilliantly coined the term “four-mal”, since there were four of us participating. The two of us, and my two younger sibling (much to Jacob’s dismay). Natalie and I dressed up (the confusion on my father’s face was hilarious when he realized his adult daughter was doing something that had never happened in their house before – the upstairs bathroom was taken over to do hair and makeup) and we even convinced the boys to put on decent shirts.

We went outside to brave the chilly evening for pictures and watched the boys throw string cheese at each other and dirt fall off Jacob’s jeans as he tried to hide from pictures on the trampoline. When we were sufficiently chilled and had decided we’d taken enough pictures, I shook the sticks out of the bottom of my favorite formal dress (a long, mermaid style red dress I got for my junior formal. It still fits the same after six years!) and we went inside.

Once we got our father to leave the living room, we danced to old wedding playlists I still have on my phone (thank you, Spotify). I don’t think we got Jacob to dance at all, but Andrew did a little. I believe we had more fun once the boys went downstairs, however. Natalie and I both have a little background in dance (and she’s in gymnastics, too), so we enjoyed the extra space and lack of judgmental eyes as we danced around the room, goofing off together.

We both wore red dresses, mine was bright red and hers was more maroon). Mine is floor length (my mother had to remove at least six inches of fabric from it when I got it, even with me wearing four inch heels), hers fell above her knees. Both of them were lacy with high necks, and mine has an open back. (That’s something I adore, especially since surgery gave me beautiful scars that I am proud to show off.)

We made the most out of what we had and we had a good time. Afterwards, the boys picked up Sheetz for us (dancing makes you hungry!) and suddenly it was 11 pm on a night well spent.

My Brain Feels Like…

At some point during the evening, I took a video of the bottom of my dress as I was spinning. The writing prompt for that day entered my mind.

“This is what a lot of our brains feel like right now.” I thought as I kept dancing.

Red from panic and fear. Blurry with anxiety and stress. Constantly moving, rippling, changing from one subject to another before we can fully process anything. Yet, there’s still beauty and grace in every moment. God is still here, He has not abandoned us. Perhaps He is simply waiting for us to decide it’s time to come to Him with whatever we have – formal gowns or worn out, filthy jeans – and let Him work in and through us.

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