The Creative Call and Being Enough
It's been a LONG time! There's so much to catch up on, and so much to discuss. Since my last blog, I've been married and teaching for three years now. I'm deeply involved in my husband and I's church here in Auburn. Tonight's blog is a more serious, contemplative, honest (and hopefully humble) blog...
My latest accomplishment is leading a group; we're reading this book:
You can read a synopsis of the book here. I purchased this book way back in 2007, and have been wanting to read it. I finally did, in the midst of being engaged, going to physical therapy, finishing community college and a plethora of other things. The book engages you to have quiet time, a journaling time and creative time. None of these things I could even carve out five minutes to do. 2010 was an exhausting year. I finally finished it, and was inspired to "lead" a group. And by lead I wouldn't be teaching; more of me reminding myself and interacting ({you} Christians call it "fellowship") with other artists and (re)-discovering that much needed time, creativity and the gifts in which we are blessed with and called to use.
I have a couple of concerns. It's not ordering enough books or having enough people involved or not having enough PR. Nope, it's a different type of enough. I honestly don't think I'm "Christian" enough to participate in such a thing.
The honest truth: I don't read my Bible everyday, and my prayers can be self-centered. I do take Communion at church, participate in our Prayers of the People and strive to be Christ-like. Yet, I do feel like I fail everyday. I have broken relationships and I judge...the list goes on. This is in the sense that the churches I was raised up in (and somehow got drawn back into as an adult) communicated that if you didn't do those things, these things, that thing, (and even some legalistic stuff) that I was not worthy of a person, nor worthy of grace, God's love or salvation. (Which can be individual things, depending on how you look at it.) Deep, deep, deep, deep down in my heart, I know I'm loved. I know in all of my imperfection I'm truly loved. I drew this in 2007, and painted it in less than a few hours in 2008:
The young woman is me. She is bound, bound by rope. Helpless. The necklace was of value from a man who I always wondered if he saw the value in me. She is blindfolded. She is bound to lies and is only hearing the lies told to her. It's almost as those words are so loud, they are written on the walls.
It was a reflection on how my father treated myself and the women in his life. He was never kind to my mother, and once she left, no longer saw me as his little girl. I had no value. I went to school, but my A's and B's were never a rescue from the hatred. I soon started dating someone who was like that in high school and somehow, never saw it, but once realized, left immediately. That particular boyfriend didn't physically hurt me, but still emotionally abused me the way my father did. I was grew up thinking I'd never be pretty enough or smart enough to go through life. As I got older, and started dating the man I was in love with for several years definitely who had a "type", and all the women he loved were slender, blonde had some musical talent. As a petite brunette, I don't think I could ever achieve that. On the promise that we were getting back together, I put those things away from my mind, and was eager to move forward. Only to learn that, he had been seeing someone as we talked about a future together. In that pain, I yelled all of the words on the wall in the background.
As time moved on, I realized that no matter, what, my faith told me that I still had love from Heaven. As I was painting the final details on my wood panel, I realized that the "ENOUGH" didn't really convey the message I was freeing myself from. I found myself adding red and didn't think it out why. I think I was looking at Bibles and having a completely different conversation, that I remembered Christ's words in red. God was saying, "ENOUGH. ENOUGH with the lies. ENOUGH of the pain. I. LOVE. YOU. And I won't stop. Ever." I think I found it without realizing. I think the Holy Sprit wanted to reveal it self in a special way.
I have this painting in our studio, still. And I still battle with all sorts of "Enoughs." I try to remain as optimistic as possible.
I still have those insecurities; they take on different forms now, and I realize they're taking the form of my faith, or the illusion of the lack therof. I KNOW I have faith. I know it could move mountains, yet I always fear that I'm just some noisy gong: That my activism won't save the world, that my art was done in vain, that my gifts are unused and unfocused. That the music I listen to is the opposite of what I truly believe and so on. I fear that if I'm not reading my Bible everyday that people won't take my "spiritual" art seriously, or love their kids in Godly Play, or lead teens in our Youth Group. That I'd be a fraud for Jesus, put bluntly.
In re-reading this book, I've found myself to be inspired by the tools around me to take on in this journey. There is so much music, literature, art and liturgy left unfound for the whole world to see. There are ways to act with justice, love mercy and walk humbly in ways we might have never imagined. Or maybe just haven't learned to share yet because of those insecurities. The "enough"'s.
Speaking of enough's...I've been married for a year, (NOT to the above boyfriends mentioned, obviously) and have been shown wonderful love from my husband, Jaron. It's hard to accept unconditional love from a person, ESPECIALLY my husband, and I struggle to accept it, once it's accepted, our relationship flourishes a little bit more.
I think what I'm trying to say is:
I hope my faith is enough.
My actions are enough.
My gifts do not go un-used.
that I can show love.
And I can learn what grace is.
So I can tell everyone.
My latest accomplishment is leading a group; we're reading this book:
You can read a synopsis of the book here. I purchased this book way back in 2007, and have been wanting to read it. I finally did, in the midst of being engaged, going to physical therapy, finishing community college and a plethora of other things. The book engages you to have quiet time, a journaling time and creative time. None of these things I could even carve out five minutes to do. 2010 was an exhausting year. I finally finished it, and was inspired to "lead" a group. And by lead I wouldn't be teaching; more of me reminding myself and interacting ({you} Christians call it "fellowship") with other artists and (re)-discovering that much needed time, creativity and the gifts in which we are blessed with and called to use.
I have a couple of concerns. It's not ordering enough books or having enough people involved or not having enough PR. Nope, it's a different type of enough. I honestly don't think I'm "Christian" enough to participate in such a thing.
The honest truth: I don't read my Bible everyday, and my prayers can be self-centered. I do take Communion at church, participate in our Prayers of the People and strive to be Christ-like. Yet, I do feel like I fail everyday. I have broken relationships and I judge...the list goes on. This is in the sense that the churches I was raised up in (and somehow got drawn back into as an adult) communicated that if you didn't do those things, these things, that thing, (and even some legalistic stuff) that I was not worthy of a person, nor worthy of grace, God's love or salvation. (Which can be individual things, depending on how you look at it.) Deep, deep, deep, deep down in my heart, I know I'm loved. I know in all of my imperfection I'm truly loved. I drew this in 2007, and painted it in less than a few hours in 2008:
The young woman is me. She is bound, bound by rope. Helpless. The necklace was of value from a man who I always wondered if he saw the value in me. She is blindfolded. She is bound to lies and is only hearing the lies told to her. It's almost as those words are so loud, they are written on the walls.
It was a reflection on how my father treated myself and the women in his life. He was never kind to my mother, and once she left, no longer saw me as his little girl. I had no value. I went to school, but my A's and B's were never a rescue from the hatred. I soon started dating someone who was like that in high school and somehow, never saw it, but once realized, left immediately. That particular boyfriend didn't physically hurt me, but still emotionally abused me the way my father did. I was grew up thinking I'd never be pretty enough or smart enough to go through life. As I got older, and started dating the man I was in love with for several years definitely who had a "type", and all the women he loved were slender, blonde had some musical talent. As a petite brunette, I don't think I could ever achieve that. On the promise that we were getting back together, I put those things away from my mind, and was eager to move forward. Only to learn that, he had been seeing someone as we talked about a future together. In that pain, I yelled all of the words on the wall in the background.
As time moved on, I realized that no matter, what, my faith told me that I still had love from Heaven. As I was painting the final details on my wood panel, I realized that the "ENOUGH" didn't really convey the message I was freeing myself from. I found myself adding red and didn't think it out why. I think I was looking at Bibles and having a completely different conversation, that I remembered Christ's words in red. God was saying, "ENOUGH. ENOUGH with the lies. ENOUGH of the pain. I. LOVE. YOU. And I won't stop. Ever." I think I found it without realizing. I think the Holy Sprit wanted to reveal it self in a special way.
I have this painting in our studio, still. And I still battle with all sorts of "Enoughs." I try to remain as optimistic as possible.
I still have those insecurities; they take on different forms now, and I realize they're taking the form of my faith, or the illusion of the lack therof. I KNOW I have faith. I know it could move mountains, yet I always fear that I'm just some noisy gong: That my activism won't save the world, that my art was done in vain, that my gifts are unused and unfocused. That the music I listen to is the opposite of what I truly believe and so on. I fear that if I'm not reading my Bible everyday that people won't take my "spiritual" art seriously, or love their kids in Godly Play, or lead teens in our Youth Group. That I'd be a fraud for Jesus, put bluntly.
In re-reading this book, I've found myself to be inspired by the tools around me to take on in this journey. There is so much music, literature, art and liturgy left unfound for the whole world to see. There are ways to act with justice, love mercy and walk humbly in ways we might have never imagined. Or maybe just haven't learned to share yet because of those insecurities. The "enough"'s.
Speaking of enough's...I've been married for a year, (NOT to the above boyfriends mentioned, obviously) and have been shown wonderful love from my husband, Jaron. It's hard to accept unconditional love from a person, ESPECIALLY my husband, and I struggle to accept it, once it's accepted, our relationship flourishes a little bit more.
I think what I'm trying to say is:
I hope my faith is enough.
My actions are enough.
My gifts do not go un-used.
that I can show love.
And I can learn what grace is.
So I can tell everyone.
Comments
i think you closer to grace then you know
any how if you read this before I get to talk to you call me
thanks
--Cody