I Protest

I was listening to Sara Groves, "Why It Matters", this morning... 

And... I had an epiphany.  

Why it Matters

Funny word... epiphany.  Sounds so BIG or so WOW.  But, actually, it usually comes very quietly and very softly.  It's an awakening.  It's simple awareness.  While listening to this ode to creativity written by Sara Groves twenty years ago, I became keenly aware of why I blog, why I paint, ...maybe why I live my every single day.  I guess that is big-awareness!

I wrote Why I Blog in August, 2011...  ten years ago.  In that post, I explore my need and desire to connect and be known.  This was why I started blogging.  This need and hunger to be known is still in me, of course.  But, I am realising that through the years, my motivation and reason for blogging is different now.  Or, at least, 'added to'.  Yes, I want you to know me and I need a place to process what God is doing in my life.  But, NOW...  I find that my blog is a bit of a protest.  

Yep, a place of protest.  

In my small way, in this very small place...  I protest.   I protest the darkness and hopelessness that seems to invade our every day lives with songs and sounds of death, destruction, and theft.  I long to speak life, creation, and generosity.  

I protest the idea that Christians are stupid/silly, ignorant, bigoted, and hypocritical.  I long to speak of wisdom and truth.  I want to write about the true things that invade my life.  I long to speak of where I see the truest things--- beauty, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness and sacrificial love--- invading the world all around me.  I protest with my desire to be authentic and vulnerable here.  I want to share struggle and pain and triumph and ambiguity--- all of which are the reality of most of the Christians I know.   I don't have all the answers at all!  I have a journey to walk.  I protest with my offerings of my own journey into being loved and loving others with Christ's unfailing, unbounded love.  

Am I sometimes very stupid/silly?  Ignorant? Bigoted? and Hypocritical… yes, of course!  We all are.  You are, too.  But, you and I are SO SO much more than that.  And, certainly that is not even close to ALL that I am.   So, I protest to these labels over me and over the thousands of Christians world wide--- spread far across cultures, denominations, generations, and this beautiful globe.  

I protest.   

I protest the idea that music, art, and writing must always be perfect like a photo, or always moody and dark, or only ever filled with happiness.   I protest!  I want to write about the real things.  My blog is full of questions, wrestling, dark frustrations, light moments, and bold truths that I still struggle to fully live out.   Our lives, ...our real lives... are so multi coloured! 

I protest that small things don't matter.  I protest that only things that ----cost much, or are 'liked much', or are 'celebrated' or are held up and noted---  that only these things matter.  This small place.  This very small life.  My life.  And, yours... they matter.  

I believe it matters that when I smiled yesterday on my walk... making every effort to pass by each individual, look them in the eyes, and smile.  I believe that THAT matters.  It certainly mattered to me.  And, I believe that it matters to them.  Their small lives. 

Because, I know that each life is small.  ...even the celebrated ones.  But, each life, each and every single life matters!  I believe that each one of us was created on purpose inside our mother's womb.  You.  Me.  Every.  One.  

So, I protest here.  

Like Sara Groves sings--- thank you Sara for again singing my soul----  "tell me of the beauty of the beauty...  speak to me until I understand...  like a rampart for the soul... like a single cup of water...  why it matters!"  

I want to be known, yes. 

But, I also want to speak of the beauty of the beauty.  I want to offer you, my friends, my sister, my brother, ...and those I do not know that read here...  I offer you this single cup of water:  

God is so very, very good.  He is powerful and knows all.  God is faithful.  His love endures forever.  He is love.  He acts in love.  His very nature is love.  His justice is love.  His justice is right and righteous.  He is active and alive.  He offers peace.  He gives us all we need for joy.  He speaks and wants to speak to His people.  He is making and continues to make...   

May these words be a cup of water for your soul today. 

Let us, my friends... add to the beauty and offer a small cup of water to each other!!  

Sabbatical Reflections: Words on a Page #35 Farmers Words

 The Farmer's Words

Something is always wrong with the sheep, 

the farmer says with disdainful tone.

Their feet, their bums, ever lost or caught.

Would never make it on their own.

Funny that He calls me sheep,

Rumbles of laughter fill my soul.

My body, my will, often lost or caught.

My freedom is found in His control. 

Something is always wrong with this sheep.

This truth sits like a wisdom crown.

My shepherd, my farmer, my gardener, my friend.

Watched by Him, I'm safely found.  

Written November 2020

Sabbatical Reflections: Words on a Page #34 Painting Clouds

 Painting Clouds

I simply can't paint you. 

I try and I struggle. 

But you will not be held or captured. 

I can not pin you down.

Your splendour and majesty.

Your brilliance of colour and depth.

Your movement and grace.

Your diversity and changeability.

I cannot capture you with my brush.

An argument I will never win.

A venture that has no end.

Wrestling Leviathan or a fight with the sea.

I try.  I struggle.

I attempt new techniques. 

New colours and strokes.

I shift and shade.

My skills are lacking, to be sure.

Yet, I am convinced that even if...

If I had the skills of the masters, 

I could never paint you.

Vangough's brilliant use of colour, 

his light and shadows...

He failed to paint you.  

To paint you truly. 

You have been painted already.

Made, altered, mastered...

by the Master, Himself. 

He that pulls the great beast with a hook.

He that wrestles the waves.

He that says, thus far and no more!

He has painted you perfectly.

Displayed His magnificent skills!

November 2020

Sabbatical Reflections: Words on a Page #20 Midnight Call

 Middle of the Night Call

 A nudge.

A gentle tap.

3 am invitation comes again.

I roll over.

Pull covers up tight.

Certainly the clouds are too thick tonight, Lord.

A whisper.

A small thought.

'I want to show you, again!'

Another gentle nudge.

A push and a tap in my mind.

Barely conscious I am waking.

Doubt-filled thoughts.  

Questions rise.

This second-guess girl wonders at crazy midnight ideas.

Oh!  But, the tug.  

Now, the pull. 

With little expectation, I yank myself out of bed. 

Grab the coat

But, oh!, it's so very cold, Lord!

I slowly wander outside. 

Startled. 

Instant awe.  

I am shocked to my very core.

Dark clouds drawn back.

Opened like heavy curtains.

Pushed right to the edge of the earth.

Stars on display.

His masterpiece.

Singing His glory again!

Arrayed in majesty.

A picture of love.

Arranged by the greatest artist of all time.

To think! He invited me!

His hands pushed the clouds back.

Did He smile big that night?

When next will He call? 

Will I respond?

Will you listen?

"By the word of the Lord the heavens were made, their starry host by the breath of His mouth" Psalm 33:6

Written August 2020

Sabbatical Reflections: Words on a Page #11 Rubrics

 

Rubrics

Colour on a page

Do you know what it is? 

These easy going, even fun...  

Grace-filled criteria.

Rubrics in place.  

to judge

to know.

And, yet, 

Yet, even the colour is not bright

...enough.

Not muted enough. 

Not smooth

...enough.

Not well textured or blended...

...

My very existence

My every. moment. of. every. day

Not enough.

Falls short.

Do I know what it is?

A splash of colour on the page.

This day.

   This being.  

Me.

Written June 2020

Reminds me of this post I wrote in 2019

Sabbatical Reflections: Words on a Page #3 "Meaning...full or less"

 

Meaning...less or full

One, two, three, four... seven days.

The ebb and flow of the days as they merge together into a week, 

Each day unique, but intertwined and to be joined.

One, two, ...

One day full of light and life. 

Eyes see.  Ears hear.

Hearts awake and connected.

Laughter and dance trickle through.

Then a shift.  A flow.  

Dark rushes into the next...

Two, three, four...

Light seems hard to find.

Blind or blank stares.

Fingernails on a chalkboard.

Distance and frustration.

The walls feel close.  The air thin.  

The boundaries unstable. 

The ebb of light. 

The flow of darkness.

Three, four, five

One day full, the next empty. 

How have I been, you ask?  

Seven days...

Conflux of emotions make one week.  

Can happy and sad live in the same week?  The very same day?  

Solomon called each day "hevel"

A vapour.  A breath.  

There is a time for everything... 

Highs and lows.  

One week recedes and retreats.

Swirls and surges. 

Intertwined.  Merging together...

One, two, three, four...

Written May 2020

Sabbatical Reflections: Words on a Page #1 "To See and Hear"

 

To See and Hear

There are sounds and sights

I never did see.

Missed wisps, lost colour, 

All passed by with movement and noise.  

I paint these moments every day, He says. 

I ring these bells and sing this song each evening. 

So many. …no, most...

Most miss the wisps of colour, 

the sights and sounds of My love.  

May 2020

Let's Dance Again

You know that moment when you are smiling so much, your face starts to ache just a bit?

I felt the ache in my cheeks the other night.  I sat, smiled, and watched them with deep joy.

How many were they?  Thirty?  Forty kiddos?  Up on stage...  standing in-front of a room of 250---some proud parents, aunties and uncles, and many they would not know.   Most of the audience friendly strangers. These kids of all ages were singing and dancing with all their might!   They sang song after song about Jesus--- His love and grace, His faithfulness and goodness.  Loud voices.  Full attention.  They sang out with their whole hearts.  They gave it their all.

Each song had movements.  Each child did the movements with their "stamp"---their personality.  Some made quiet, small movements. Some kiddos made exaggerated and beautifully flamboyant moves.  Some had hands, legs, faces all in sync.  They were perfectly orchestrated with the music.  You might say these were "on fleek"!   Others---little ones and bigger ones--- hardly managed the choreographed movements at all... they just danced.  Smiles.  Jumping.  Swaying.  Shuffling their little feet.

They performed with joy and freedom and so much fun!  It was pure delight to behold.

While I watched, I had a recurring thought which became a prayer:  When do we loose this?  When did we loose this, Lord?

When does this dancing, jumping, laughing, smiling, singing get lost?  Why don't we do this anymore when we sing of You?  

I began to pray these questions... When did I loose this unhindered joy in moving my body and singing songs for you?  What hinders me in worshiping You like this, Lord?  

As I watched and prayed, everything in me wanted to jump on stage and sing along.  Dance along.  I wanted to join them!

I know the stories that many of these kids walk.  I am aware of pain in their journey.  I know they don't live perfect lives, or in perfect families.  But, still... still...  this night they brought their whole bodies, hearts, and minds on stage and performed with exuberance.

Most faces in the crowd smiled.  Even the older teenagers--- this freedom already lost for most of them--- sat and watched with cheek-aching grins.

Joy begets joy.  Worship begets worship!

Father, I want some of it back!  What I lost... whenever it was... I want to know this childlike faith and purity again.  I want to worship You with my whole body, my whole heart, and all of me.  Teach me to join them in song.  Today... and moving forward.  "Let everything that has breath praise the Lord" (Psalm 150:6).  

"They should praise Him with dancing, they should praise Him with tambourines and harps!"  (Psalm 149:3)

His Third "Coat" of Paint on Me

I was hardly listening to the song.  The music and lyrics were just wafting in the background.  In one moment, though, one particular line jumped out and sang hope to my heart:  "There are victories yet to come.  They are certain as the rising of the sun!" (Matt Maher, Great is Your Faithfulness)

Victories.  Coming.  Certain and sure!  This does my heart such good to remember.  

God knows how utterly frustrated I am with the places in my life and heart that are still bent, broken, and in need of victory.  He knows the disappointment, resentment and anger I can feel at myself, at my sin.   

Yesterday, while praying for a particular long-standing "issue" of heart and sinful thinking, I had a clear picture in my mind.  Most of you know this last year I have taken up watercolor painting.  One of the MOST difficult disciplines that I struggle with in painting (aside from my desire to paint perfectly), is the time it takes to let it dry between stages.  You have to be really patient.  Almost all my "fails", hands down, in painting, thus far... have come from rushing the process or being impatient.  It really doesn't work to rush it.  You have to paint one layer, one “wash”--- and then let it dry completely.  In this humid climate, even more, this reality has brought much annoyance to my impatient self.  

The painting in each stage looks chaotic, messy, and the picture is very unclear.  It’s not very pretty--- sometimes not at all.  The end picture is barely discernible. 

Instinctively, I want to move on quickly, keep painting... make the chaos that is wash one or wash two, into something I can discern or make out.  I want to see it complete.  But, in all honesty, I almost ruin most of my paintings when I rush and move on too soon.  

This was the picture that came to my mind as I was asking Father about this particular issue of sin and pattern of wrong thinking in my life...  He showed me watercolor painting.  

Creative God... painting His masterpiece--- me (and you!)... is always at work.  He is faithful and says in His word, He will bring us to completion.  (Philippians 1:6)  He will bring us into perfection!  Scripture tells us we can be confident of this--- "as sure as the rising of the sun!"  But, in Philippians, He also clearly states that this completion happens in time.  The process works it's way out until the 'day of Christ Jesus'--- meaning when the Kingdom comes in it's fullness.  

He's is just on a second, third, or fourth layer of paint on me!

I want to be done.  I want to see it's completion.  All the things in me, in those I love, and in this world around me--- I want them perfect.  Yesterday, please!

But, be of good cheer, my friends!    I speak to my soul, "Be of good cheer, Stephanie!"  He is at work.  He is faithful.   He is good. If the good work has begun in you, then He will indeed bring it to completion.  It is certain and sure.  

"There are victories yet to come!  They are certain as the rising of the sun. Great is Your faithfulness---always and forever!" 



*the paintings above are not my paintings.... Just lovely wash art by others--- free online to use.  

Creativity Unleashed and the Battle Rages

In an effort to incorporate and 'lean into' a bit more fun in my life, I began watercolor painting in June.  I am enjoying the process and have been painting frequently--- in some cases even losing track of time (which never happens in my life!).

On a side note, that is a definition of 'fun' I once heard.  "Fun is when you are doing something and loose track of time".  According to this definition, I never have fun and my husband is absolutely always having fun!!  Which may or may not be true.

Joking aside, I am indeed having fun!  But, I can honestly say that this fun has had it's challenges and the enjoyment is often under siege.  Let me explain.

I don't think I am alone when it comes to a perfectionistic tendency.  I know that the critical voices, and the judgmental reality and struggle, come alongside any type of creativity.  I have yet to meet one author, one visual artist, dancer, singer, or musician that hasn't had their own battle.  The fierce fight with thoughts of all sorts...'didn't hit that note','missed that step', 'could be a bit more profound', 'doesn't look quite right'...   Judgment seems pretty constant when trying to create.

These negative voices have been loud and intense at times.  Just to be clear, by and large, the 'voices' I am talking about are almost always and exclusively in my head.  ...the inner critic, some call it.  The imagined judgment.  Or, the very real criticism that Stephanie has of Stephanie's work.  She can be really, really mean.

The other day I tore up, ripped in half, a piece of art I had been working on for a week.  I was fed up with the painting and threw it away.  When I told my son, he said (with this tongue firmly in his cheek) "Mom, are you going to cut off your ear any time soon?" (think:  Van Gogh)  No, son... I am not!  I laughed at his words and appreciated his reference.  But, here's the deal.  Creativity can be really hard.  Why am I so mean to myself?

It wasn't long ago--- even a few years ago---that I was in adamant, verbal denial of my creative abilities, at all.  "I am not a creative person", I would say to my husband.  He disagreed just as adamantly as I denied the fact.  I finally understand that every human being, being created in the likeness of our Father, is 'creative' by nature.  We create all the time, just as He creates all the time.  Call it cooking, baking, email, organization...  Call it what you like, we---as beings---create.  We are made to create beautiful, wonderful, and new things every single day.

Anyway, so... yes, I am creative.  So are you.  But, unlike God--- I create imperfectly.  And, there lies the rub.  I have been wrestling within this battle, indeed, as I paint, or write, or speak... sometime even when I cook!

Is my Father judging my picture?  Is He pointing out the flaws in the brush strokes or angle?  No!  By no means!  We, ourselves, are better parents than that, right?  What do we do when our children bring us their art work? We oooo and we ahhh and we enjoy the beauty they create--- pasting it to our refrigerators and posting it to our walls!

Why?  Why are we so mean to ourselves?  I know I am not alone.

Yesterday another friend voiced her creative struggle.  With deep frustration she blurted out, "But... I keep thinking... what is the point?  Why am I even doing this?  What does it produce?"

She vocalized a second problem and battlefield within creativity:  pragmatism.

Second to perfectionism is the issue of pragmatism.  Ah... the modern idea that everything has to be useful or practical.  And, if I am anything, I am practical--- practical to a fault.

My watercolor paintings have very little (if any) use.  Okay, yes,... to ease this discomfort, I have made a few birthday cards.  That's practical!  But, really, I now own a pile---ever deepening pile--- of 'useless' paintings.  Sunsets, buildings, landscapes, flowers.  Why?  For what purpose?

Oh the battle rages!

Immediately when she said those words in frustration, I understood.  I deeply understood.  But, on the heels of the understanding was---literally--- a picture of a bright flower in a field of wild flowers, followed by the image of a giraffe.  A flower and a giraffe.  That's what came to mind.  Flower... bright and beautiful.  Here today and gone tomorrow.  Why?  What purpose is that splash of color?  And, a giraffe...  why?  So creative and so weird and ...fun and bold and bright.  Beautiful.  Why?

So, as the creation battle continues to rage, I will press in and lean into the fun.  I will make color on page... I tell myself.  I am creative, just like my God.  He splashes color on a page every single day.  So can I.

I will paint the weird, fun, bold and bright.  And, like a child... I can do this for no "purpose" and my Father can enjoy it, in all it's imperfection.

As a beluga whale was made to swim.  I was made to create.  So, create I must!  And, maybe, just maybe I will have fun and loose track of time.

Okay, God... let's have some FUN

A few months ago, as I was being prayed for, a brother felt he heard God whisper the word Fun into his heart.  After the prayer time, he approached me and said he felt God wanted me to have more fun in my life---especially in this season of transition with my children launching into the world and out of my nest.  He then asked me a pointed question, "What is fun for you?"

I was dumbstruck.  The feeling of utter confusion must have wafted across my face... because he laughed out loud.  "Ah!" he said, "That is probably where you need to start!"

I have been a wife for nearly 25 years and a mother for 20 years.   Almost half my life I have had the privilege of nurturing and raising two amazing children.  I have worked part time from home and we chose to home educate, as well; and so... my time has been very much all about them.  I truly don't regret this in any way, shape, or form.  I feel blessed by this truth.  But, when it comes to fun for me... well, ...I just didn't have an answer.  The question actually felt strange in my ear and hard for my heart to comprehend.  I know what is fun for my husband.  I know what is fun for my son and my daughter.

In all honesty, I am not sure I could have answered this question even 25 years ago.  'Fun' doesn't come naturally to me... I don't 'do' 'fun for me'.  Or at least, that is how it felt.

I began to pray.  What IS fun for me, Lord? Lord, help me know myself.

My 'go-to' solution to any dilemma is to pray and then read.  When in doubt, I say, read a book!  On the heels of this prayer time, a friend 'just so happened' to send me a book about the God-given creativity in every human being, The Soul Tells a Story by Vanita Hampton Wright.  I wondered if creativity and fun went together?  So... why not... I picked it up and gave it a go.  Maybe God would begin to answer my question in this way...

For years, I have had a very regular debate going with my husband.  "I am not a creative person" was my stance.  We had the--- 'yes, you are'... 'no, I'm not'--- going for years.  From the beginning, Ms. Wright suggests that creativity lives in each and every of us;  innate in us, creativity is like one fingerprint of God's design as 'made in His image'.  He created.  He creates still.  We also create.  Wright does a fabulous job explaining that creativity is so uniquely colored and varied with each individual...and so, I guess, sometimes it just isn't noted.  Or, understood and labeled as "creativity".

Or, in fact, it just gets lost for some of us.  In the first chapters, she offers a set of exercises which explore what was 'fun' for you as a child.  Like venturing back memory lane, you are searching for what was in you naturally... maybe what got hid away, or set aside.  What did you do as a child that you enjoyed?  What made you happy?  What did you do for fun?  For me, this question alone took quite a bit of time, quiet, prayer, and memory-journeying to find some answers.

I now believe with all my heart that I am indeed creative.  (My husband will be pleased with this!)  And, I have slowly ventured into the effort of 'doing' more fun things in my life.  Opening up.  Pressing in.  Things I used to do...?  Things that I have always wanted to do... or wondered about?  Slowly.  One thing at a time.

My newest venture has been into the realm of watercolor painting.  The ever-present practical-Stephanie assumed (wrongly, as it turned out)... that this was a cheap hobby.  So, I started here.

Today, I boldly---and it does take significant courage, mind you--- I share (below) a few of my first attempts to have creative fun in my life.  I figure, for the faithful few of you that read these posts, you hear the ins-and-outs of many vulnerabilities and very often the weaknesses in my life.  So, why not... I'll share this vulnerable place of creativity and strength, too.    And, I will assure you... I am really enjoying it!

...having a little bit of fun.  Thank you, God, for whispering on my behalf.