A Peppercorn by Any Other Name . . .

If there’s one thing I often felt while growing up, it was, “I just don’t belong here.”

I always had this feeling that I’d been born out of time. Born way, way too late in the history of mankind.

I should’ve been born in the days of Barbara Cartland novels. In a time when normal was that girls were pure and caste in behavior.

But instead, I was born on the eve of the Sexual Revolution. Born into the time when youth was rebelling against the culture of their privilege. Rebelling against the society’s norms and sexual mores. It was a rebellion that would serve to violate the innocence of my childlike heart.

But at the same time, I was never the embodiment of the sweet and docile little girl. I was never the tender princess my father was hoping he’d one day sire.

No, I was born with a mouth. And I was born with eyes that could see through smoke and mirrors, and right into the reality of what was truly going on. Even as a child.

So, you pair that mouth with a nature that didn’t see anything wrong with speaking up about just what you saw wrong in your world, and you quickly learn that there’s a world out there that doesn’t want you speaking it.

And you slowly come to understand that your behavior is unacceptable.

But if you’re a child, with no ability to differentiate between your behavior and yourself, you end up learning that you are unacceptable.

Which is what I believed, deep, deep inside of me for oh, so many years: That I was unacceptable – to my parents, to society. And to the God who made me.

So, in believing this, I trained myself not to speak up. To shut up. And I began to edit myself in order to make myself acceptable to this world, thinking maybe this way I would be embraced.

Maybe this way I would be loved.

But they didn’t. And I wasn’t.

So, no, I never fit in.

Not even in church where you were supposed to be sweet and virtuous, like I was trying so very hard to be. I never fit in because there was more life in me than the deadness I found there. But, you know, if that’s what God wants, then maybe that’s what I needed to become!

Dead.

And so I edited myself even more, and quickly moved to kill the things inside of me that would rise up and say, “This isn’t right. This shouldn’t be so.” And I did it because maybe this is what God meant when He said we must “die to ourselves.”

And who knows? Maybe this is the way I will be accepted. Maybe this is the way to life.

But it wasn’t.

And in dying, you die.

And so I did. A little at a time, until I became a shell of myself, and my body responded in turn.

I had crippled myself, both emotionally and physically. I had refused to speak up and speak out. Had refused to stand up, when the knowing inside of me knew, and understood that this was all wrong. That this should not be so.

I had crippled myself to fit in. But I never did.

I was just sick, and crippled. And dying. Broken inside in too many ways to count.

And then, Jesus.

Yeshua! Salvation!

Jesus, the love of my life, my love since my childhood, pulled me aside. He pulled me apart from the world and the western “Church,” and piece by piece He restored me. Piece by piece He loved me, and healed me, and taught me that, how He created me, He intended me to be.

My mouth, my ability to see . . . . I am who I am supposed to be. He made me this way, on purpose. He placed me in this time, on purpose.

Here in this time, and in this era in history, where I’ve been given the ability to speak with you without ever having met you face to face. He put me. Here. Being given this virtual space where I can talk, heart to heart. With you.

And so I do.

I am a peppercorn.

And a pink one at that.

I’ve lived so many lives and seen so many things. And it is in this space that I can speak through the words I type, and tell you what I see beyond the smoke and mirrors.

And there are so many façades made of smoke and mirror in this age we live in. In this culture we have created.

I was introduced to the “pink peppercorn” one day while shopping for a new fragrance, of all things. A number of the fragrances I was attracted to had pink peppercorn as a common ingredient. So I looked it up.

I laughed at what I found:

“. . . pink peppercorns are feisty and flavorful champions of variety. Their delicate fruitiness can be a revelation to those who’ve only had black pepper before. These spicy, dried berries possess a deeper, more rounded pepperiness than the brash piper nigrum.

“Pink peppercorns lend foods a different kind of heat, closer to chiles than black pepper. They have the same peppery bite, but it’s wrapped in a sweet fruity flavor reminiscent of a berry with an attitude. The peppercorns have a thin, fragile skin that can easily be rubbed off . . .”

“Since they break apart so easily, they should be crushed with a knife or spice grinder . . . And as they’re so delicate, they’re better purchased in small quantities . . .

” . . . pink peppercorns make for an interesting twist on old school, black pepper-based recipes. They’re also superb substitutions for more exotic applications of black pepper . . .

“One of the best ways to appreciate pink peppercorns is to simply nibble them whole. . . . Since they’re so delicate it’s easy to eat them like snack food . . . . Just don’t go overboard: They can be toxic if used in very large quantities.”

LOL!

Are you a Pink Peppercorn?

Or maybe you’re Green or Red. You may even be a Black Peppercorn!

Whatever type of peppercorn you are, your Creator made you the way you are on purpose. And without the individual and particular spice of you, this world would be so very less spicey. So very bland.

So come with me on this journey, and let’s spice things up a bit by discovering and restoring our original spiciness!

Let’s learn to make life delicious, and taste and see that the Lord indeed is good!

Peppercorn